"He's too knowing by half." "Oh, he'll come along fast enough after me," answered Bob with some reserve of manner, thinking it rather beneath his dignity, as well as unjust to Rover, to bandy words about the latter's disobedience of orders; and so, he walked on up the platform, whistling as he went and followed by Nellie, towards where aunt Polly and the Captain were chatting, the old sailor explaining to Mrs Gilmour how Dick's acquaintance had been made, she having been much impressed by his civil and attentive demeanour, if not by his appearance.
"Come on!" shouted Bob between his whistles, as he got nearer; Nellie, close behind him, likewise whistling and repeating his cry, "Come on, Rover!" Rover came on; but, not altogether in the way his young master and mistress wished.
Galloping now in front, now in rear of the two, and then prancing towards them sideways, but always out of reach, he whirled his heavy chain about like a lasso, to the danger of everybody around; many of the passengers being still on the platform looking after their belongings or waiting for cabs, most of the vehicles that had been drawn up on the cab-rank having already driven off loaded.
"Do catch hold of him, Bob!" cried poor Nellie in accents of alarm.
"He'll trip up somebody." Rover seemed to hear and understand what she said; and, as if anxious to oblige her, at once twirled his clattering chain round the legs of a fat old lady, who, with her arms full of a number of parcels, was waiting for one of the porters to extract yet more from the carriage in which she had come down.
"Look out, ma'am!" said the Captain, seeing what was coming.

"Keep clear of the dog, ma'am, or he'll foul your hawse!" But, he was too late for the warning to be of any use; for, at the same instant, the old lady was whirled violently round and round like a teetotum and fell to the ground, uttering the while a series of wild shrieks, coupled with the smothered exclamation--"My good gracious!" "I thought so!" ejaculated the old sailor as he hastened up to her rescue, and, with the aid of the porter, succeeded in placing her on her feet again; while Nellie and Bob set to work collecting her parcels which were scattered in every direction.

"I hope you are not hurt, madam," Captain Dresser added when the lady was, as he expressed it, `all a-taunto' once more.

"I hope you are not hurt!" However, she did not pay any attention to the polite inquiry, displaying more solicitude for her portable property than her person.
"Who's to pay for my eggs, I'd like to know ?" was all she said.

"I s'pose they be all bruck to pieces!" She evidently alluded to the largest of her parcels, which still lay close to her on the platform, neither Bob nor Nellie having yet reached this to pick it up; for, a thick yellow fluid was oozing out from the wrappings, plainly betokening the nature of its fragile contents and their fate.
"Oh, never mind your eggs, ma'am," cried the Captain impatiently.
"We'll reimburse you for their loss, as the dog has caused the mischief.
I was thinking of your bones!" "Drat my bones and the dog, too!" said the old lady with equal heat.
"One doesn't get noo laid eggs every day, I'd 'ave yer to know, sir, and I was a-taking these a puppose for my darter, which I brought all the way now from Gi'ford only to 'ave 'em bruck at last!" "Never mind, never mind," replied the Captain soothingly; and on Mrs Gilmour at the same time telling her that she kept fowls and would send her some more fresh eggs the very next morning, to replace those broken, if she would give her address, the old lady was finally pacified.
She went off presently, with all her remaining parcels, in a cab, which the Captain insisted on paying for; the good dame beaming with satisfaction and looking as if she thought she had made rather a good thing than not by the mishap! Meanwhile, Bob and Nellie had to interrupt their task of parcel- collecting to go after the truant Rover, who, not satisfied with the damage he had already done, was in active pursuit of the traffic manager's favourite cat, right through the station.
The roving delinquent ultimately `treed' his prey in one of the waiting- rooms, where poor pussy sought refuge on the mantelpiece, knocking down a glass water-bottle and tumbler in jumping thither out of the reach of the frantic Rover, who scared half to death the occupants of the room as he dashed in, all in full cry! Then a most delightful concerted duet ensued.
"Mia-ow, phoo, phit, phiz!" screamed pussy with all the varied expression of which the cat language is capable, running up the gamut into the treble and dying off in a wailing demi-semi-quaver.