"That's the maid, clearing away the breakfast things."
"Hum! She'll wear the carpet out," commented the old man. "I must speak to Mortimer about it. I think I'll caution her now."
He rose, to do this, but accidentally stepped on one of Grit's legs, as the animal was reposing under a chair, where Dick had sent him to get him out of the way. The dog let out a howl, and then a savage growl, and made for the man he felt had purposely injured him.
"Hold him! Catch him!" cried Uncle Ezra, as he sprang away. "Hold him, Nephew Richard!"
"Grit!" called Dick. "Come here!"
But the dog refused to mind. Growling and snarling, he ran after Uncle Ezra. The latter did not stop to speak to the maid about wearing out the carpet. Instead he kept on to the front hall, and to the entrance door, which was, fortunately, open. Down the steps, three at a time, jumped Mr. Larabee, the dog close behind him.
But, by this time Dick had caught up to his pet, and grasped him by the collar.
"Grit! Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" he asked, but he could hardly keep from smiling, while, as for Grit, he nearly wagged off his stump of a tail, so glad was he at having routed Uncle Ezra.
"I'll go down and see your father at the bank!" cried the excited man, turning when he was safely on the sidewalk. "The idea of having a
