Themar," added Philip, packing his pipe, "is an infernal bounder!" Diane's camp lay barely two miles to the west.

Homing at sunset Philip had veered and circled over it.

Now as he turned westward toward the river, the nature of his errand chafed him sorely.
"Nor can I see," mused Philip, puffing uncomfortably at his pipe, "why in the devil he wants to know!" A soft, warm nose suddenly insinuated itself into his hand with a frank bid for attention and Philip turned.

A shaggy, soft-footed shadow was waggling along at his heels, Dick's favorite setter.
"Hello, old top!" exclaimed Philip cheerfully.

"When did you hit the trail ?" Old Top barked joyously but didn't appear to remember.
"Well," said Philip, lazily patting the dog's head, "you're welcome anyway.