said Dandy, with a sorrowful mew; and he thought with terror of the morrow when the cruel man would probably come and pull his tail, and make him yowl that the folks might hear.
"Frisky," he said,—and his voice had a faraway and husky sound,—"I am afraid that I shall never see you again; but you might run home and tell master, and perhaps he would rescue me."
"I'll do my best," said Frisky. "Good-by, Dandy; you are the best cat friend that I have got; I do not know what I shall do without you."
"Good-by," replied Dandy; "give my love to the cats that I like, and tell them all to keep away from this horrible place."
The door by which they had entered was shut tight, and Frisky could not return that way; but he was a very wise little dog, and so he trotted down-stairs into the vestry. There he found a low window, and one strong bound carried him through a pane of glass and on to the pavement. Once out in the open air, he started for home at such a pace that you could not have counted his jumps. People upon the street stepped one side as he galloped by with his head low, and running like a race-horse.
When he arrived home I was sound asleep, but his sharp bark under my bedroom window soon woke me. I was very tired; and remembering the night before when Frisky had gotten out of the barn, I was angry. "We have had
