82 The Partridge Family 



white sterns were dyed pink from whipping rough 

 brush, and dark welts along silken flanks told that 

 it had not been all fun. We examined their feet 

 and removed every burr from their coats. When 

 the word was given, they sprang to their work as 

 though they had not run a yard that day. 



We tramped across country for an hour before 

 they again made game, but they never slackened 

 speed, beating every field as prettily as the first. 

 Where a wheat-stubble joined a sea of standing- 

 corn, Madge suddenly halted. Upon our turning 

 to see Joss back from the open, we discovered 

 that amiable lady rapidly roading along a furrow. 

 In a moment she too halted, and there were two 

 bevies, or one dog was on foot-scent. Doc's secret 

 preference showed itself. He at once started for 

 Joss, remarking, " They've run out of the corn 

 to feed, come on ! " 



I looked at Madge. She was steady as a rock, 

 and I hated to slight the creature that had carried 

 a memory of me for a year. I walked to her, 

 past her, turned and looked at her and said, 

 " Madgie, old girl, you're wrong this time, I'm 

 afraid." The stiffened stern waved slightly, the 

 quivering ears dropped a trifle, then rose again, 

 and the grand eyes rolled toward me with an ex- 

 pression which said as plainly as words : " If I'm 

 wrong, I don't know it; I'm doing my best to 

 please you." I turned aside, made one step — 



