"Well done," shouted Alan in delight. "Isn't he a game little beast?" And he stretched over the top to give Jock a lift.
In his efforts to reach the dog he overbalanced, the barrel tipped over and rolled from side to side, and for a few minutes all that could be seen was a kicking tangle of boy, dog, and rat, for Jock would not let go his prey.
Peter stood shouting with laughter, holding his sides, and quite helpless, and the two girls were much in the same condition. Marjory was just trying as best she could to stop the barrel rolling and to help Alan out of it, though she was so weak with laughing that her hands seemed to have no strength in them, when the doctor's voice said, "Come, children, didn't you hear the dinner-bell?"
They all, including Peter, straightened up as if by magic. Dinner already! They had never given it a thought. They stood irresolute, a queer-looking company, while Jock glanced around the group, as much as to say, "What's the matter with you all? Just look at my lovely rat."
The doctor stood leaning on his stick, contemplating his guests. Alan was the worst. His face was scratched, and blood and dust together had streaked it in a most unbecoming way; his clothes were torn, his cap was gone, and his never very tidy hair stood in a shock above his forehead. The girls, too, showed unmistakable signs of the fray. Their hair ribbons were gone, wisps of straw and hay were sticking to their clothes, and their cheeks were scarlet with exercise and excitement. Even Jock had one eye bunged up, but he was the coolest and most unconcerned of the party. He saved the situation by trotting across to the doctor, laying the rat at his feet, and then looking up at him with his only available eye, as if for approval.
The doctor could not resist this appeal. He stooped and patted the dog, saying kindly, "Well done, little man." And then turning to the children, "Now then, you three graces, be off with you. Go and wash yourselves clean, if you can, and don't keep me waiting any longer for my dinner. A hungry man's an angry man, you know." And he sent them off with a flourish of his stick.
When they came to the dining-room the change in their appearance caused the doctor's eyes to twinkle, but he made no remark. Alan's face positively shone with soap, for though the application of it had made his many scratches smart, he had manfully persisted in the most vigorous cleansing operations. He had soaked his hair with water to make it lie down, but there was one lock in the region of the crown of his head which had refused to accept his ministrations. The girls, too, had smoothed their hair, brushed their clothes, and composed their countenances. All three looked as solemn as judges as they took their seats.