"We don't know, Jimmy. He just followed us after we left the state road. Mr. Ames says he doesn't belong to anyone around here, 'cause he knows every dog in the county," answered Natalie.
"He must have lost his way, then. Maybe he was with a party of autoists who passed that way. They will surely come back to hunt for him, so we had better hang a large sign out on the tree by the front gate," said Mrs. James.
"That's a good plan," assented Natalie. "I'll run in and get a cardboard box and print the sign."
"Don't describe the dog,--just say we found a strayed canine," advised Janet.
"If no one comes for him, we may as well keep him until we determine what to do about it," added Natalie.
"We must find a name for him, too. What do you suppose he was called?" asked Mrs. James.
"If we knew that, we might have a clue to his owners," laughed Janet.
"The best way to name him is this way," suggested Natalie. "Let each one write a name on a slip of paper and fold it up. Rachel shall deal out the votes and the last one out of the box shall be his name. How is that?"
"Good! Run and get the paper, Nat," laughed Janet.
So in a few moments six slips of paper were cut and handed out. The pencil was passed around and everyone wrote her choice of a name for the dog. Rachel was called out to collect the votes in an old hat, and when they were well shaken she removed them, one by one, until the last one was taken up.
[Illustration: Mrs. James leaned over to see who was coming in.]
She opened it slowly and spelled out carefully: "G-r-i-t."
"Ho, _Grit,_ that is my choice!" shouted Natalie, clapping her hands. As if the dog was pleased with his name, he jumped around madly and barked shrilly.
"He seems to like his name," said Janet, laughing at the way the animal tried to lick Natalie's face.
"Maybe it sounds something like his real one," suggested Mrs. James.
"Wall, whatever it is, I says he oughter have a pan of water to drink. Affer all dis excitement he needs refreshin'," remarked Rachel, going to the kitchen and calling the dog to follow her.
He went obediently, and just as the girls began to plan the sign, and what to write thereon, the gate clicked. Mrs. James leaned over the piazza rail to see who was coming in, and saw a short, fat, colored youth of about eighteen, approaching.