“I think it very probable that it is my dog.  I lost one of that description six or eight months ago, and advertised him; but I couldn’t hear any thing of him, and so I got another as much like him as I could.  It is probable yours is the same dog; but I don’t know that there is any particular proof of it.  You haven’t called him Ney, have you?”

“No, sir,” said Jonas; “we call him Franco.”

“If he should come at the call of Ney, that would be proof.  Where is he now?”

“He is with me, sir; he is out in my sleigh.”

“O, well, then,” said the man, “we can tell in a moment.  I’ll step to the door and call him.”

So Mr. Edwards put on his hat, and stepped to the door.  The dog was standing up in the sleigh, and looking wildly around.  When he saw Mr. Edwards, he seemed more excited still.

“Here, Ney,” said Mr. Edwards.

The dog leaped down from the sled, and came bounding up the road.  He leaped first about Mr. Edwards, and then about Jonas, as if at a loss which was his master.

“Why, Ney,” said Mr. Edwards,—­“poor Ney,—­have you got back at last?  Come, walk in, Ney.”

Ney slipped in through the door, and turned immediately into the little room, as if he was perfectly familiar with the localities.  Jonas and Mr. Edwards followed.  They shut the door, and took their seats again.  Ney ran around the room, and examined every thing.  He looked at the strange dog lying so comfortably in his old place upon the warm carpet, and then came and gazed up eagerly into his old master’s face a moment.  He came to Jonas, and wagged his tail, and then he went to the door and whined, as if he wanted to go out.

“Won’t you let him out?” said Mr. Edwards.  “We will see what he will do.”

Jonas opened the door, and the dog ran out into the entry, and then made the same signs to have the outer door opened.  Jonas opened it, and let him out.  Jonas stepped out himself a moment, to see what he would do, and presently returned again to the room where he had left Mr. Edwards.

“Where did he go?” said Mr. Edwards.

“He has run to the sleigh,” said Jonas, “and jumped up into it, and is lying down on the buffalo.”

“The dog seems to have become attached to you, Jonas,” said Mr. Edwards, “and I presume that you have become somewhat attached to him.”

“Yes, sir, very much indeed,” replied Jonas.

Mr. Edwards was silent a few minutes, appearing lost in thought.

“I hardly know what to say about this dog,” he continued, at length.  “You did very right to come and let me know about him.  I am afraid that some boys would have kept him, without saying any thing about it.  I am glad that you were honest.  I valued the dog very much, and would have given a large sum to have recovered him, when he was first lost.  But I have got another now, and don’t really need two.  Should you be disposed to buy him?”