often as we could, so we are sure of a welcome if he is at home. Stand ready to back me, if you think circumstances require it, but don't be surprised at any thing I say."
As Tom uttered these words he opened one of the wide gates that gave entrance into Mr. Wayring's grounds, and the three walked up the carriage way toward the house, until their progress was stopped by the sudden appearance of one of Joe's pets—a Newfoundland dog, which came out from among the evergreens and stood in their path. He was a noble-looking fellow, and although he was gray with age, the attitude of defiance he assumed seemed to say that he considered himself quite as able to keep intruders off those premises as he had been during his younger days.
"Come on," shouted a familiar voice. "Mars won't trouble you. He don't like tramps," added Joe Wayring, leaning his double paddle against the side of the house, and coming forward to greet his visitors. "But fellows like you could go all over the place; and so long as you did not pick up any thing, Mars would not say a word to you. How are
