WHAT was the wretch doing in the house with my dear Miss Laura?
I thought I would go crazy.

I scratched at the door, and barked and yelped.

I sprang up on it, and though I was quite a heavy dog by this time, I felt as light as a feather.
It seemed to me that I would go mad if I could not get that door open.
Every few seconds I stopped and put my head down to the doorsill to listen.

There was a rushing about inside the room, and a chair fell over, and some one seemed to be getting out of the window.
This made me worse than ever.

I did not stop to think that I was only a medium-sized dog, and that Jenkins would probably kill me, if he got his hands on me.