I'll show you, and I'll show you he's got a brain that counts to five an' knows wireless telegraphy.

You just watch." At the moment the steward made his faint lip-noise--so faint that he could not hear it himself and was almost for wondering whether or not he had made it; so faint that the Shortlands planter did not dream that he was making it.

At that moment Michael was lying squirming on his back a dozen feet away, his legs straight up in the air, both fox-terriers worrying with well-stimulated ferociousness.

With a quick out-thrust of his four legs, he rolled over on his side and with questioning eyes and pricked ears looked and listened.

Again Daughtry made the lip-noise; again the Shortlands planter did not hear nor guess; and Michael bounded to his feet and to his lord's side.
"Some dog, eh ?" the steward boasted.
"But how did he know you wanted him ?" the planter queried.