But, for some reason, Patches appeared to be in an unusually happy frame of mind, and went singing and whistling about the corrals and buildings as though exceedingly well pleased with himself and with the world.
The following day was Sunday.

In the afternoon, Patches was roaming about the premises, keeping at a safe distance from the walnut trees in front of the house, where the professor had cornered the Dean, thus punishing both Patches and his employer by preventing one of their long Sunday talks which they both so much enjoyed.

Phil had gone off somewhere to be alone, and Mrs.Baldwin was reading aloud to Little Billy.

Honorable Patches was left very much to himself.
From the top of the little hill near the corrals, he looked across the meadow at exactly the right moment to see someone riding away from the neighboring ranch.

He watched until he was certain that whoever it was was not coming to the Cross-Triangle--at least, not by way of the meadow lane.