of 



when he imagined I was in danger; then he was 

 instantly alert for my defense. When the stage 

 overtook us, and stopped to let me in, he leaped 

 in also, and squatted by the driver with such an 

 air of importance that I half expected to see him 

 take the lines and drive. 



I lost him in my rush to make the train at the 

 station. He could, of course, have kept with 

 me had he been without fear, or if he had really 

 so desired. As the train pulled out, I saw him 

 start down-street with an air of unconscious 

 confidence that told of wide experience. He 

 was a tramp dog. 



The next time I saw him was several months 

 later, in Leadville, some two hundred miles from 

 where he left me. Where, in the mean time, he 

 may have rambled, what towns he may have 

 visited, or what good days or troubles he may 

 have had, I have no means of knowing. 



I came walking into Leadville with snowshoes 

 under my arm, from two weeks' snowshoeing 

 and camping on the upper slopes of the Rockies. 

 The ends of broken tree limbs had torn numer- 

 ous right-angled triangles in my clothes, my 



98 



