"Oh, are we going to have a dog, too?" asked Ollie.
"You wait a minute," insisted Jack.
Just then we passed the railroad station. Jack craned his
head out of the front end of the wagon. Ollie and I did the same.
Lying asleep on the corner of the station platform we saw a dog.
He was about the size of a rather small collie; or, to put it
another way, perhaps he was half as big as the largest-size dog.
If dogs were numbered like shoes, from one to thirteen, this
would have been about a No. 7 dog. He was yellow, with short
hair, except that his tail was very bushy. One ear stood up
straight, and the other lopped over, very much wilted. Jack
whistled sharply. The dog tossed up his head, straightened up his
lopped ear, let fall his other ear, and looked at us. Jack
whistled again, and the dog came. He ran around the wagon, barked
once or twice, sniffed at the pony's heels and got kicked at for
his familiarity, yelped sharply, and came and looked up at us,
and wagged his bushy tail with a great flourish.
"He wants to get in.
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