TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
Where the glad rush to gather his son to his yearning bosom? ‘The ecstatic reunion expected by all? —Simply the man stood and stared, while Bateese dozed on and Cairlo did not so much as blink an eyelid. Patty shivered a little with nervousness and laid a hand on Pat’s arm as he in turn braced himself for the coming outburst of recognition, which he imagined to be merely delayed by the gorgeous attire of Bateese. The seconds dragged on; still no sound from the gaping foreigner, who was motionless save for restless glancing from dog to boy. Feeling eyes upon him, Bateese slowly wakened, sat up with a yawn and stretched his little legs. The spell was broken, the Frenchman stepped back muttering, “Wan boule dog! Ma foi! I see wan boule dog go on ze cab.” He turned to the captain, who said in sharp interrogation,
“Well, sir, what now?”
