Chapter X: Stray to the Rescue

"BOBBIE," said Jackie, "I wonder if Mrs. Winter will ask us to tea to-day?"

"I don't know," his brother answered; "I don't expect so."

It was Sunday afternoon, and the boys were returning from Sunday school. They had not been invited to take tea with Mrs. Winter for several weeks. At first Bob had been puzzled to know the reason, but he was beginning to fear that it was because their kind old friend was not in the position to entertain guests. He knew that food had become very expensive, and suspected Mrs. Winter had all she could do to provide necessaries for herself.

"Don't you think she wants to have us?" Jackie inquired wistfully.

"Oh, yes!" Bob assured him, adding quickly, "Don't speak about it to her, Jackie, whatever you do!"

"Why not?" questioned Jackie.

"It might hurt her," Bob replied, sighing.

Jackie looked puzzled, but he said no more. That afternoon the boys had tea with their aunt in the kitchen. Lizzie had gone to her home, which was in Bristol.

During the meal Mrs. Mead remarked—

"I suppose Mrs. Winter's grown tired of your company, as she doesn't ask you to tea with her now. I'm afraid you wore out your welcome."

"Oh, no!" cried Bob. Then, as Mrs. Mead laughed, he flushed and said: "I think she can't afford to have us to tea any longer, Aunt Martha."

Mrs. Mead became serious in a minute.

"I wonder if she can be as poor as that?" she said thoughtfully. "She may be. She had no fire the other day when I went up for her rent, and the weather was bitter. Poor old soul! I know what I'll do; I'll ask her to supper. I owe her something for her kindness to you boys."

So Mrs. Winter was asked to supper, and came—Stray too. Afterwards she sat by the fire for half an hour, and that night she went to bed warm, which she had not done before for several weeks.

The next day, on their return from school in the afternoon, Bob and Jackie learnt that their aunt had had a visitor.

"I never thought to see her again," she said, her face expressive of gratification, "and I was never more surprised in my life than when she threw back her veil—she came in a motor-car—and I recognised Lady Margaret Browning."

"Oh!" cried Bob excitedly. Then he drew a deep sigh of disappointment.

"I'm so sorry Jackie and I weren't here," he said regretfully. "Did she come in, Aunt Martha?"

"That she did, and we had a nice chat together. She'd read about your father in the newspaper, and spoke so nicely about him. I felt proud to think he was my brother. It seems her father has a big house on his estate in Somersetshire, which he's turned into a soldiers' hospital, and she's helping nurse the patients. She's going back there in a few days. But she said she should call again; she's staying with friends at Clifton for a little change, because she's been working too hard nursing."

"Did you tell her about Mrs. Winter; that Mrs. Winter used to be her mother's nurse, I mean?" Bob asked eagerly.

Mrs. Mead shook her head.

"I quite forgot all about the old woman," she admitted, "But, if I'd remembered she wouldn't have been able to see her," she added, "for Mrs. Winter's been out with her dog all the afternoon."

When Mrs. Winter returned Bob went to her attic and told her of Lady Margaret Browning's visit. She would have liked to have had a peep at her, she said, to see if she was like "Miss Peggy"; then she drew Bob's attention to Stray and the collar he was wearing—not his old, shabby one, but another made of strong leather and ornamented with brass studs.

"What a handsome collar!" Bob exclaimed. "Why, it must have cost shillings!"

"I expect it did," Mrs. Winter agreed, "and it's all but new. It's a present. Oh, Bob, I've had such a fright this afternoon! Do you notice that Stray is wet? Well, he's been in the river!"

"Did he fall in?" asked Bob.

Mrs. Winter shook her head.

"Oh, no!" she replied, "he jumped in; but I'll tell you what happened. We'd been for a walk and gone further than I'd meant to, so we came home by the back lane as it was the shorter way. A lot of children were playing in the lane, some of them close to the river. Suddenly I heard a splash and a scream, and some one shouted there was a little girl in the river. Then there was another splash. Stray had seen what had happened, and had gone to the child's rescue!"

"Oh, dear, brave Stray!" Bob cried, putting his arms around the dog, wet though he still was, and hugging him, "And he saved the little girl?"

"Yes. He caught her by her skirt and swam with her to the bank, where I took her from him. She was not hurt in the least, only frightened. Someone had run for her parents, and you can imagine their joy at finding her safe. They could not make enough of Stray, and insisted I should bring him into their house so that they might give him something to eat. Then, whilst Stray was eating a plateful of nice scraps, and the little girl's mother had taken her upstairs to change her clothing, the father left me a minute and returned with this handsome, brass-studded collar, which he said he thought would just fit Stray, and begged me to accept it. I didn't quite like taking it, but he explained that it hadn't been pawned—oh, I forgot to say that the little girl's parents were the people at the pawnshop!"

"Then the little girl is Tom Smith's sister!" exclaimed Bob excitedly.

Mrs. Winter assented.

"Mr. Smith said he'd bought the collar from someone whose dog had died," she continued, "and that I needn't mind taking it, and that he'd feel hurt if I didn't. So then I accepted it, of course, and very glad I am Stray has it. Mr. Smith took off the plate with my name on it from the old collar, and put it on the new one."

"I see," Bob said, examining the collar. "I suppose you didn't see anything of Tom at the Smith's?"

"Yes, he came in whilst I was there, and his father told him what had happened. 'Your sister would have been drowned but for the dog!' he said. Then I told them that I didn't usually go home by the back lane, and I felt sure God had sent me that way to-day, and they must thank Him for sparing them the life they loved. I think they will, Bob."

"I should think so, too!" Bob agreed. He caressed Stray again. "Dear old fellow!" he murmured. "Good, brave, old dog!"