it was that Spot came manfully to her assistance when his father, for once, sided with his daughters.
"She can have Doctor to look after her. No darkey living would dare to come near her if Doctor has her in charge," said Doctor's master.
Major Taylor looked at his son quizzically, but refrained from bantering. He understood what it meant to Spot to offer his dog for the child's protection. Major Taylor well knew that his son, as well as his daughters, doubted Rebecca's claim to kinship. Certainly there was little in her favor. The fact that she had known about Aunt Pearly Gates, and her habit of hatching chickens in her bed, could hardly stand in a court of law as proof that she was Tom Taylor's daughter. Now that her hair was clipped close, Major Taylor fancied he could detect some resemblance to his dead son in the shape of her head and the way her ears were set, but he had to confess to himself that he was so eagerly looking for a likeness that it was easy to fool himself into finding one.
He was constantly seeing in Rebecca traits of character that reminded him of Tom, the same gallant fearlessness, the same philosophical way of accepting disappointment, the same faculty of seeing something amusing in the sim-
