"Well, there's plenty of time for that," said Sam. "They've got to get the sense of the fields and the woods first. You get 'em so they'll come when they're called, and a little later on I'll have time to take 'em in hand and teach 'em the fine points of the game. How have they been, anyway? They're lookin' as sound as nuts."
"They've been very well," answered Ernest, "except for one thing. We don't know what's the trouble, but their teeth are dropping out."
"Their teeth----" began Sam, and then burst into a roar of laughter, in which the boys presently joined, though they did not know why.
"Don't you worry about them teeth," said he, when he could speak again. "I'll bet it wasn't so very long ago that Jack here had the very same trouble. Didn't you know that dogs lose their first teeth the same as boys do? Sure thing. Some folks are a good deal troubled about it and pull out the loose teeth for fear the dogs will swallow them, but it ain't likely to hurt 'em if they do. Just let 'em alone and nature will look out for 'em. New and stronger teeth will grow in their places and then they'll be fixed for life."
The boys, relieved to find that the matter was not serious, laughed again.
"I guess this joke's on father, too," said Ernest.
This trip to Sam's shack was the first of a number of excursions thither which Sam seemed to enjoy as much as the boys and the dogs. And when vacation time came and every day was like Saturday, Ernest and Jack Whipple came to understand better what it really means to have good dogs for constant companions. It was in these days that visits to the swimming hole over by the brickyard began, and Romulus and Remus were taught to enjoy the water as much as their masters did.
This swimming hole, in fact, proved to be the accepted meeting place for most of the boys and dogs of Boytown, for it became a regular practice for the boys to bring their dogs and to invent various aquatic sports in which the dogs played an important part. Old Mike hated the water and could scarcely be induced to go in, but most of the others entered into the spirit of the game with zest. Little Alert proved to be a regular cork in the water, and even huge Hamlet splashed about in a dignified sort of way. But the general favorite was Rags. He could dive for stones, retrieve sticks, and even stand up in the water, with his fore feet pawing the air in a manner to bring laughter to the soberest. And he had a way of devising sport of his own, not always respecting the sanctity of the boys' clothing.