Topaz’s ears flapped with joy as they started on their tramp.

Gabriel put away all thought of the future and frolicked with his playmate as they went along, throwing a stick which Topaz would bring, and beg with short, sharp barks that the boy would throw once more, when he would race after it like a streak of sunshine, his golden curls flying.

From time to time Gabriel ran races with him, and no boy at school could beat Gabriel at running, so Topaz had a lively morning.

By the time the sun was high in the heavens they were both hungry and glad to rest.  They found the shade of a large tree, and there Gabriel opened his package again, and when he tied it up it made a very small bundle on the end of the stick he carried over his shoulder.

There was not so much running this afternoon.  Gabriel and Topaz had come a long way, and toward evening they began to see the roofs of the town ahead of them.

The dog no longer raced to right and left after butterfly and bird, but trotted sedately at the boy’s heel, and after a time Gabriel picked him up and carried him, for the thought came that perhaps Topaz could earn them a place to sleep, and Gabriel wished to rest the little legs that could be so nimble.

It was nearly dusk when they reached a cultivated field and then a farmhouse.  Some children were playing in the yard, and when they saw a dusty boy turn in at the gate, they ran to the house crying that a beggar was coming.

Their mother came out from the door, and the expression of her face told plainly that she meant to drive the dusty couple away.

Gabriel set down the dog and took off his hat, and his clear eyes looked out of his grimy face.

“I am not a beggar,” he said simply.  “I go to the town to return this dog to its master, but night is coming on, and we should like to sleep on the hay.”

“How do I know you are not a thief?” returned the woman.  “It is not a very likely story that you are tramping way to town to give back a yellow dog.”

“He is a dog of high degree,” declared Gabriel, “and if you will let us sleep in your barn he will dance for you.”

Upon this the children begged in chorus to see the dog dance, and the mother consented; so Topaz, when he was bade, sat up, and then, as Gabriel whistled, the dainty, dusty little white feet began to pirouette, and the children clapped their hands for joy and would have kept the dancer at his work until dark, but that Gabriel would not have it so.

“We have come far,” he said.  “Let us rest now, and in the morning Topaz will dance for you again.”

So all consented and escorted the strangers to the barn, where there was a clean, sweet hay-loft.

The little dog remembered the night before, and whined under his breath and wagged his tail as he looked at Gabriel, as if begging the boy not to leave him.