Chapter XIII: A Regular Brick

"KITTY! Kitty!" called Bob. "Oh, there you are! Keep Snip here with you, will you, till I'm gone? Don't let him get away and follow me!"

"Why not?" demanded Kitty.

It was again a Saturday afternoon, several weeks having passed since the sister and brother had been entertained next door. The little girl, who had been watching Fluffy eating a sprig of parsley, turned away from the rabbit hutch as she spoke, and joined Bob, who, fishing rod in hand, and accompanied by Snip, had addressed her from the back door.

"Because I'm going to Lang's pond, with Shuttleworth," he explained, "and if Snip went with us he'd for certain spoil our sport by hunting for water-rats and disturbing the fish. He seems to have an idea that I want to get rid of him, for he's keeping as near me as he can, and—"

"Oh, do let me go with you this afternoon!" interposed Kitty, eagerly. "Why can't I?" she asked, as her brother shook his head.

"Well," he said, "it's possible that we may meet Richards, and that he may ask us to his house to tea—that is, if you're not there."

"Then you'd better go your own way!" snapped Kitty, adding under her breath, "Such selfishness!"

"But will you keep Snip with you?" questioned Bob.

Kitty assented. She took Snip into the house, and shut herself into the dining-room with him, feeling deeply aggrieved. Mr. and Mrs. Glanville had gone away for the day, therefore it was exceedingly unkind of Bob, she considered, to go off with Tim Shuttleworth and leave her.

"He makes a great deal too much of Tim," she reflected. "It's all very well to let bygones be bygones, but Bob seems to have forgotten altogether how disgusted he was with Tim at one time, and is making him his chief friend. I haven't such a short memory as Bob."

This was true. Bob had a happy knack of putting anything he wished to forget away from him. But Kitty, though she had agreed never again to mention the ill-turn Tim had done her, often allowed her mind to dwell on it, and the consequence was that she was considerably less genial to him than was her brother.

By-and-bye, when she judged the boys must have taken their departure, she decided to go out with Snip. It had rained earlier in the day, but the weather had cleared about noon, and now the sun was shining brilliantly. It was a really perfect May afternoon.

"I'll get some wild hyacinths for mother," the little girl thought, remembering that she had heard Mrs. Glanville remark at breakfast that they must now be in bloom and she would like some. "And on my way home, I'll pass by Lang's pond and pay the boys a surprise visit. I'll see Snip doesn't interfere with them."

Accordingly she sallied forth, with a basket on her arm, and accompanied by the faithful Snip. First she went to a confectioner's, where she purchased some chocolate creams, then left the town by a side street, and a quarter of an hour later found her in a pretty wood, carpeted with masses of wild blue hyacinths. She filled her basket with the fragrant flowers, after which she sat down on the moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree, and ate her chocolates, sharing them with Snip.

"There!" she cried, as she popped the last chocolate into her mouth, and rose. "Now we'll go to Lang's pond—we've as much right there as anyone, eh, Snip? Still, I think I'd better lead you. Bob can't complain if I do that."

Nevertheless Bob was not altogether pleased when, ten minutes later, standing by the side of Tim Shuttleworth, on the edge of Lang's pond, his eyes fixed on the float of his fishing rod, he heard a shout and recognised his sister's voice.

"It's Kitty," Tim informed him. "She's brought Snip with her, but she has him on the leash."

"Well, boys, what sport?" Kitty questioned, as she joined them. "The fish are biting well, I suppose, after the rain? Let me see what you've caught!"

She opened a fishing-basket which lay on the ground, and gave a little laugh as she viewed its contents.

"Three dace, two roach, and an eel!" she cried. "The dace are the smallest I ever saw. You ought to have put them back into the water again, they aren't worth cooking. The roach are not so bad, but—"

"I daresay you think you could catch bigger ones!" Bob broke in, sarcastically. He was disappointed that they had not had better sport, and his sister's candid comments had vexed him.

"Richards is not here, I see," observed Kitty, after a few minutes' silence.

"No, he has not turned up," Tim answered. "He did not promise to come—only said that he might. What lovely hyacinths you have there!"

"Yes, haven't I?" said Kitty.

She placed her basket on the ground, and stood watching the boys for some while, but she soon tired of inactivity, and strolled around the edge of the pond, still leading Snip. By-and-bye she caught sight of some fine forget-me-nots growing close to the water, and stooped to gather them. At that exact moment Snip spied a water-rat, and, jerking the leash out of his mistress' hand, sprang Into the water in pursuit of it.

"There!" cried Bob. "I knew what it would be!" He threw aside his rod as he spoke, and glared angrily at his sister. "You must have let him go on purpose, Kitty!" he asserted.

"I did not!" the little girl declared. "Indeed I did not! Oh, Bob, I'm so sorry! Come here, Snip! Come here, sir!"

But Snip paid not the least attention to her. He was now swimming around the edge of the pond, and sniffing into the rat-runs which undermined the bank. Tim was secretly as vexed with Kitty as was Bob, but out of pity for her he did not show his feelings, and stood listening in silence to the hot words which were now passing between the sister and brother.

"Well," Bob said at length, his anger beginning to cool, "of course, if you say you didn't let him go on purpose, I believe you, and we'll drop the subject. We'd better go home to tea now, I suppose."

"I'm sorry I came," murmured Kitty, almost tearfully. "I know you didn't want me. Oh, oh!" she cried, her tone suddenly changing to one of great excitement. "Look at Snip, boys! Oh! Do look! What's the matter with him? Oh, see how he's struggling! Oh, Bob! Oh, Tim! He'll drown—he'll drown!"

Snip had turned a rat out of its lair in the bank, and had been swimming across the pond, which was very deep in the centre, after it, when something had become entwined about his hind legs, and he was now struggling in vain to get them free.

"Don't be silly, Kitty!" Bob said, speaking sharply, because he was frightened and could not think what had happened to the dog. "How can Snip drown when he can swim like—"

"Oh, you don't understand!" broke in Kitty, wringing her hands in her distress. "It's the leash! It's got around his legs, and—Oh, Bob, go to him, go to him!"

It was all very well to say "Go to him!" But Bob could not swim, and knowing that he would be out of his depth in the water before he could reach Snip, he naturally hesitated. At that minute, evidently realizing the peril of his situation, the little dog uttered a piteous cry, which nearly drove his mistress frantic; she would have dashed into the pond herself if her brother had not prevented her.

"Oh, what can we do?" she wailed. "Oh, this is awful—awful! Oh, Bob, can't you do anything? Oh, Tim!—where's Tim?"

"Here!" answered Tim, behind her. "It'll be all right, Kitty! Don't you be frightened! I'll get him!"

Kitty now perceived that Tim had divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and was hurriedly unlacing his boots.

"I can swim—a little," he told her. "I think I shall be able to reach him. There!"—As he pulled off his last boot. "Now I'm ready!"

He waded into the pond till the water reached his chin, Kitty and Bob watching him with deepest anxiety, then swam a few strokes which brought him within reach of Snip. He grasped the little dog by the back of the neck, and, turning, essayed to swim back with him, but Snip continued to struggle, and no progress was made.

"Can you get off the leash?" shouted Bob. "Try! Try!"

Tim did try, and, after several vain attempts, succeeded in disentangling the leash, and setting the dog free. That done Snip swam ashore of his own accord, and his rescuer followed him, to be greeted with tearful thanks from Kitty as he waded out of the pond, and a warm hand-clasp from Bob, who told him that he was "a brave chap, and no mistake!"

"Yes, indeed," agreed Kitty. "But for you, Tim, poor Snip would certainly have been drowned. Oh! I wonder what mother and father will say when they hear about this? Oh, dear me, how dreadfully wet you are, to be sure!"

"It would be a miracle if he was not!" Bob exclaimed, with a laugh, which hid deep feeling. "What silly remarks you do make, Kitty! We must get you home as quick as we can, Tim, or you'll catch cold!"

Tim had pulled on his boots over his wet stockings with some difficulty by this time, and was now kneeling to lace them up.

"Oh, I shan't catch cold!" he declared cheerfully.

"I hope not," said Kitty, her voice full of concern, "because if you did you might get pneumonia again. Oh, Tim, I haven't thanked you for what you've done."

"Please don't!" Tim interposed, adding—"I'm so glad I could swim!"

He rose from his knees as he spoke, and, meeting Kitty's eyes, still rather tearful, smiled at her.

"Oh," the little girl cried, "you don't know how grateful I feel to you."

"You're a brick, Tim—yes, a regular brick!"