"Has he been hurt?" he asked sympathetically.
"Yes," I answered, still stroking the old hound's head. "Very badly.
But he'll be all right in a few days--and we'll go on watching the
mountains--and thinking--and chasing foxes--to the end--the end that
comes to all poor dogs."
"It's curious how attached one gets to a dog," said Perry sagely,
resuming his rocking from heel to toe and toe to heel.
"It is curious," I said, smoking calmly. I even forced a grim smile.
Now that I could smile, I was prepared to hear what Perry had to tell
me, for after all I had been drawing conclusions from what might prove
to be but inferences of his. But he had been so positive that in my
inmost heart I knew the import of all he had to say.
"Well, Perry," I said, "you did give me a surprise. I didn't know it,
and, to tell the truth, was taken back a bit, for it hurt me here." I
imitated his effective waistcoat-pocket gesture, which caused him much
amusement. "I had hopes myself--you know that, and as I neither
fiddled nor recited poetry your own conclusions may be wrong.
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