“That’s Sammy Pinkney’s bulldog,” declared Tess, in fright. “And it’s Sammy’s father, too.”
The boy crawled over the high fence at the back of their garden and got through the hedge. When the girls caught up with the man, Tess asked:
“That young rascal has been in my strawberry patch again,” declared Mr. Pinkney, wrathfully. He seemed to forget that he had a boy of his own who was always up to mischief. “I’d like to wallop him.”
“But the dog might have bit him,” said Dot, trembling, and drawing away from the ugly looking animal.
“Oh, no, little girl,” said Mr. Pinkney, more pleasantly. “Jock wouldn’t bite anybody. He only scared him.”
“Well, he _looks_ like he’d bite,” said Tess, doubtfully. “And he scared our cat, Sandy-face, almost to death.”
“Well, bulldogs always seem to think that cats are their enemies. I am sorry he scared your cat, girls.”
Tess and Dot hurried on to their gate. They looked for the boy in the garden, but he was nowhere to be found. When they entered the house, the back door was open and everybody seemed to be at the front.
The two girls went immediately up the back stairs to the bathroom to wash and make themselves tidy for dinner.
“Where do you s’pose he went, Tess?” asked Dot, referring to the strange boy.
“I don’t know,” said Tess. Then she stopped to listen in the hall outside the bathroom door.
“What’s the matter, Tess?” demanded Dot, quickly. “Did you hear something? Up the garret stairs?”
“It sounded like the latch of the garret door,” said Tess. “But I guess it was just the wind. Or maybe,” she added, laughing, “it was your goat, Dot!”
“Humph!” said the smaller girl, in disgust. “I know there isn’t any old goat living up in that garret. That’s silly.”
The girls thought no more about the odd noise at that time, but hurried to join the rest of the family down stairs.
Some of Miss Ann Titus’ gossip was not unkindly, and some of it amused Ruth and Agnes very much.
Miss Titus had known Aunt Sarah when they were both young girls and what she told the Corner House girls about Miss Maltby, who had taken the name of “Stower” of her own accord, satisfied much of the curiosity the older Kenway girls felt regarding Aunt Sarah and her affairs.
“I remember when old Mr. Stower married Mrs. Maltby,” said the busy Miss Titus, nodding vigorously as she snipped and talked at the same time. “The goodness knows, Sally Maltby an’ her mother was as poor as Job’s turkey—an’ they say _he_ was sartain-sure a lean fowl. It was as great a change in their sarcumstances when they came to the ol’ Corner House to live, as though they’d been translated straight to the pearly gates—meanin’ no irreverence.