E. M. Stooke

“ The speaker was Squire Filmer's son, a well-known bully of about fifteen years of age. As his voice—always a dreaded one—fell on Dick's ears, the little boy thrust his precious shilling into his deepest pocket and turned pale.
"Here! Are you deaf?" continued Stephen, as his demand received no answer. "Let me see this instant what the gentleman has given you, or I'll make you turn out your pockets. Oh, it's no good!" he went on as the child looked anxiously around him. "There's no escape for you. And as for calling, you might shout yourself hoarse, and no one would hear. ”

“ Why, Dick, folks would think I was a grand body, if they knew how careful you were of me."
"I want you to see the doctor, mother. You do look ill and bad!" declared Dick gravely.
"That's nonsense! It's the cold that nips me up," was the prompt return. "'Tis freezing hard to-night again. I shouldn't be surprised if the ice on the lake bears soon. Then you and the children'll be able to go and watch the skating between whiles. Lord Bentford is certain to throw his grounds open to the public as usual. ”

“ How like a miracle!" ejaculated the woman, with a sob of thankfulness. "But are you sure there's no mistake? Are you sure that that's the right box?"
"As good as sure," declared Dick. "Anyhow, I'll very soon make certain. I shall go to Leigh Grange at once and ask to see the colonel. Then if it's the right one, we'll pay Stranger's tax the first thing to-morrow morning, and after that's done, we shall feel he's safe."
"Very well, my dear; I daresay, we shall all sleep the better to-night for having the anxiety about the poor dog taken off our minds. ”

“ Finder will receive TEN SHILLINGS REWARD
by returning same to Colonel Flamank, Leigh Grange."
"Dick, Dick, my little boy, what's the matter with you? Are you ill?" demanded Mrs. Wilkins; for the small face at her side had grown suddenly as pale as death, and the child had clutched convulsively at her arm.
"Ill?—No! No! No!" was the emphatic reply. "I'm well enough; only I can scarce believe 'tis true!"
"What's true, Dick? I don't know what 'tis you're talking of."
"Why, the box, to be sure—the little carved ivory match-box that the colonel's offering ten shillings reward for. See!" ”

“ Give it to me this minute, and take your match-box back. A thing like that's no good to me and mother. You're a coward and a thief."
"Now stop that noise," said Stephen. "It's no use your making a fuss; I want your shilling badly. I'm saving for new skates; and there's certain to be ice on the lake in Lord Bentford's grounds early in the new year."
"And I want to buy all sorts of things for mother and the children," sobbed the miserable and indignant Dick. "Listen to me, sir!" He ceased crying, took a step towards young Filmer, and looked fearlessly into his face. ”

“ But why didn't you tell me you had found that match-box, Dick? You're not generally so close about things."
"I didn't tell you because I didn't find it, and I could not bring myself to worry you by saying how it got into my hands," was the child's admission. Then, as they walked on side by side in the direction of Leigh Grange, Dick narrated the story of his meeting in the woods with Stephen Filmer, adding, "And I thought God was so cruel to let that great bully rob me of the shilling when I wanted it so badly. I little dreamed that things would turn out as they have." ”

“ What has become of it? 'Twas the one thing that father prized above all else we had, 'cos grandfather gave it to him on his wedding-day."
"Ah, my child," sobbed the poor woman, "I have been forced to sell it to Squire Filmer in order to pay the rent. The landlord was here yesterday, and he threatened to sell us up if the money wasn't paid by to-morrow. It's a great blow to me, but we must live."
There was a long pause; then Dick said: "O mother, however can we get the money for poor Stranger's tax? O mother! Mother! Whatever happens, we can't part with our dog." ”

“ And the children do eat such a lot this cold weather, and—and wear out so many boots."
"Come, you don't whine badly for a youngster! Poor folks are born grumblers, and a discontented set at best," stated Stephen. "Look here, Dick Wilkins, I may as well tell you at once that I am going to have that shilling of yours, whether you like it or no; and in return, I intend to give you this pretty little box that I picked up in the road yonder about half an hour ago. Exchange is no robbery, and you may think yourself lucky to have anything." ”

“ As long as it's paid by the last day of January it will be in time; and if 'tis right for us to keep our dog, why then we shall find ways and means for doing so. Don't fret, child, more than you can help. Whatever happens will be sure to be for the best. Now, dry your eyes, and we'll have our supper cosy like in front of the fire. If you lose heart, Dick, what'll become of us all? ”

“ What's amiss with it?"
"There's a sore place on one of the fingers; and when I knocked it against the table, it made me cry out. 'Twill be easier in a minute;" and Mrs. Wilkins turned her face aside that Dick might not see it was drawn with pain.
"How long has your finger been bad?" the little boy demanded.
"Not more than a few days. I hurt it on Tuesday with a pin that one of the servants at the Manor House left in her apron when she gave it to me to wash; but I didn't bind it up till an hour ago."
"And you've been working with it sore all day!" cried Dick, in much concern. ”

“ Oh, he will get beneath the boathouse, and—"
"Please—please, your ladyship," gasped Dick, elbowing his way through the crowd to the place where both parents were standing, "Stranger'll do it, if you let him try. Stranger'll save the little gentleman."
"Stranger?" Lord Bentford panted. "Who is Stranger, child?"
"My dog, your lordship. Here he is. He's a first-class swimmer is our Stranger."
Then leading the retriever to the brink of the ice, Dick pointed out the spot where the child had sunk.
"Fetch him," he cried incitingly. "Fetch him, good dog, good dog!" ”

“ God knows what happens everywhere. The parson said so last Sunday. He told us that there wasn't anything too small or poor to escape God's notice. So He must know that this poor dog has come whining to our door." Then, positively, "Of course He does!"
Mrs. Wilkins was silent.
Dick earnestly continued,—
"'Tisn't as if God ever made mistakes. He knows we're poor folks, and that at times we can scarcely find food for ourselves. Depend upon it, He won't let us lose by giving this dear old fellow a home. And when the time comes for paying his tax—"
"Eh, Dick, what then?" ”

“ And straightway she knelt down and began to rub the animal's rain-sodden coat. "We shall never get him warm as he is," she continued, "for he's so wet the water is running off him into pools on the floor. Try and take off the rope, Dick. And when you've done it, get me a rag and a piece of string, and I'll bandage up his paw—it's very sore; I find he can hardly bear me to touch it."
Dick wanted no second bidding. Setting to work with nimble fingers, he soon succeeded in untying the knotted rope that had in some places rubbed the dog's neck into wounds. ”

“ Wilkins, and a hot tear fell upon her work; she was knitting to-night by the uncertain light of the fire. "Life's a struggle at the best of-times for poor people," she went on; "and when the father of a family is taken, it's bound to go hard with those he leaves behind." ”

“ And the squire's son passed out of sight, for once in his life really frightened and abashed.
"O sir!" gasped Dick, when he had gone, "I'm 'fraid he'll do some mischief even now if he can. Supposing he should get my mother out of her work at the Manor House! We should starve! And—and our landlord's a hard man, he is!"
"Don't fear, my lad," returned the colonel reassuringly. "Squire Filmer will see that no injustice is done. But here," he added, "we are already at Farmer Smerdon's gate. You shall stay where you are, whilst I go in and interview the donor of the shilling. ”

“ And it's no more for his lordship to lose his youngster than 'twould be for me to lose one of mine."
"Oh, my child! My darling! He will be drowned—I know he will!" wailed the distracted mother. "Can nothing be done to save him? ”

“ The sticks you fetched this morning blaze up splendidly; they give out better heat than any we've had as yet."
"That's right!" in gratified accents. "I'll bring home some more to-morrow."
And Dick Wilkins took a stool, a sharp knife, and a basketful of sticks, and sat down making clothes' pegs in the poor but well-warmed kitchen; whilst Molly stood knitting by the firelight; and the twins and Stranger occupied a prominent position on the hearth, and watched the lifting cover of the already boiling kettle.
CHAPTER IV. TEN SHILLINGS REWARD.
"MOTHER, how fast the days go by!" ”

“ Then all at once a bright idea flashed into Dick's mind. To-morrow would be Saturday, and school holiday. He would put a gimlet in his pocket, go to Lord Bentford's lake, which by now was bearing, and try to earn a few coppers by putting on the gentlefolks' skates. He would not breathe one word of his intention to any one; no, not even to his mother. So he went supperless to bed that night, full of hope for the success of his new venture on the morrow.
CHAPTER VII. A GALLANT RESCUE.
JUMPING out of bed early next morning, Dick dressed himself in haste and went downstairs. ”

“ Dick Wilkins's countenance brightened.
"Stranger is a dog, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir; a retriever. He came to our cottage one awful stormy night. His paw was cut and bleeding; and some body'd been trying to drown him, 'cos he'd got a rope with a stone at the end of it tied around his neck ”

“ Only, I don't want to wake up ever again, if it is."
"Hark!" said his mother. "Do you know that sound—that 'scratch, scratch,' outside the door?"
"Stranger!" breathed the sick boy, his blue eyes brightening. "May he come in and see me?" ”

“ Wilkins, heaving a deep sigh. "Poor thing, he shall sleep where he is till morning. Now, dear, we must go to bed."
"Must we?" The boy stooped over the exhausted animal and caressed its curly jacket. "Good-night, old man!" he said softly. "I'm glad we heard you whining. I'm glad we let you in."
CHAPTER II. DICK RUNS AN ERRAND.
THERE was no small amount of excitement next morning when the three younger children became aware that a dog had gained admittance to the cottage on the previous evening. ”