Elsie on the Hudson Part 21

"Is it your doing? did you bring that dog here?" asked the lad, jumping up and going toward the door.

"Yes," said the voice; "but you needn't worry; she wasn't hurt, though she did do sich tall screamin'. That was jist fer fun and to scare you folks."

"Who are you, anyhow?" asked Don; "and why don't you show yourself?

You neither act nor talk like a gentleman."

"Don't I?" asked the voice, ending with a coa.r.s.e laugh.

"I wouldn't go out there if I were you, little boy; that fellow might do you some harm," said a pleasant voice that seemed to come from a far corner of the room.

Don turned to see who was the speaker, but there was no stranger to be seen, and the voice had certainly not been a familiar one.

"Why," exclaimed the little fellow, "who said that? What's the matter here to-night, that we hear so many folks that we can't see?"

As he spoke, a low whine, that sounded as if made by a young puppy, seemed to come from his pocket. With a startled jump and exclamation, "Oh, how did it get in there?" he clapped his hand upon his pocket.

"Why--why, it isn't there! Where is it?" he cried, turning round and round, looking down at his feet, then farther away under chairs and tables. "I can't find it," he said presently, looking much bewildered.

"Grandpa, I never saw such things happen in your house before--no, nor anywhere else. What's the matter with me? am I going blind?"

"No, my boy," said the doctor, "we all seem to be as blind as yourself--hearing people talk but not able to see them."

"None so blind as those that won't see," remarked the voice that had spoken last, but this time coming apparently from the doorway. "Here I am, and you are welcome to look at me as closely as you please."

A sudden fierce bark from their very midst seemed to answer her. It was so sudden and sharp that everyone started, and some of the children screamed.

"Nero, be quiet, sir, and walk right out here," said the voice from the hall, and it was answered by a low growl; then all was silent.

"Why, where did he go? and why couldn't we see him?" asked one of the little ones.

"Perhaps we might if we knew where to look and what to look for," said Violet with a smiling glance at Cousin Ronald.

"But where's that little pup that was in my pocket?" cried Don, as if with sudden recollection, and glancing about the floor. "I can't see how in the world he got there, nor how he got out again."

Just as he finished his sentence the puppy's whine was heard, seeming to come from behind the large armchair in which Cousin Ronald was seated.

"There he is now!" cried Don. "I wish he'd come out of that corner and let us all see him."

"Perhaps he will if you invite him," said the old gentleman, rising and pus.h.i.+ng his chair a little to one side.

Don made haste to look behind it. "Why, there's nothing there!" he cried. "What does go with the little scamp?"

"Perhaps he's afraid of you, Don, so gets out of sight as fast as possible," said Percy.

"Then why did he get in my pocket?" asked Don; then added quickly, "But maybe he wasn't there, for I couldn't find him, though I clapped my hand on it the instant I heard his whine." Just then the whine, followed by a little bark, seemed to come from the farther side of the room, and the children hurried over there to make a vain search for the strangely invisible puppy.

"Where did it go to?" they asked. "How could it get away so fast? and without anybody seeing it?"

"Well, it isn't here, that's certain," said one. "Let's look in the hall."

They rushed out there, then out to the porch, looking searchingly about everywhere, but finding nothing.

"Oh, it must have got away into the grounds," cried one. "Let's look there," and they ran down the path to the gate, off across and around the grounds--some in one direction, some in another. But it took only a few minutes to satisfy them that no little dog was there; and they trooped back to the house to report their inability to find it.

They were all talking at once, discussing their failure in eager, excited tones, when again that strange, gruff voice was heard in the hall.

"Say, youngsters, what have you done with my little dog? He's of fine stock, and if you don't hand him over right away--why, I'll know the reason why, and it won't be good fur ye, I can tell ye."

"We didn't take him," answered Don; "we've never seen him at all--no, not one of us; and if we had, we wouldn't have done him a bit of harm."

Just as Don p.r.o.nounced the last word, a shrill little bark sounded out from behind Cousin Ronald's chair.

"Why, there he is now!" exclaimed Don, hurrying to the spot. "Why, no, he isn't! How does he get away so fast?"

"He seems to be an invisible dog, Don," said his brother Percy; "and, if I were you, I wouldn't let him trouble me any more."

"No; but I've set out to find him, and I don't mean to give it up,"

replied the little fellow.

"That's right, Don," laughed his father. "I'm pleased to see that you are not easily discouraged."

"But he might as well be, for there's no dog thar," said the voice from the hall. "He's a plucky little feller, but he'll not find that thar dog if he looks all night."

"I guess I'll find you then," said Don, running to the door and looking searchingly about the hall. "Well, it's the queerest thing!"

he exclaimed. "There's n.o.body here--n.o.body at all!"

"Is the boy blind, that he goes right past a body and never sees him?"

asked the voice; and Don turned quickly to see the speaker, who seemed close behind him. But no one was there, and Don looked really frightened. Cousin Ronald noticed it, and said in kindly tones, "Don't be scared, sonny, it was I who spoke; and I wouldn't harm you for all I am worth."

"You, sir?" said Don, looking utterly astonished. "How could it be you? for the fellow was over here, and you are over there."

"No; I only made it sound so," Mr. Lilburn said with an amused laugh; "and I must confess that I have been doing all this screaming, scolding, and barking just to make a bit of fun for you all."

At that the children crowded around the old gentleman, eagerly asking how he did it and what else he could do.

"I can hardly tell you how," he said, "but perhaps I can show some other specimens of my work." He was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking. Then a loud, rough voice said: "h.e.l.lo there, youngsters, what are you bothering with that stupid old fellow for? Why don't you leave him and go off to your sports? It would be a great deal more fun."

The children turned toward the place from which the voice seemed to come, but saw no one. They were surprised at first, laughed, asking, "Was that you, Uncle Ronald?"

"n.o.body else," he said with a smile.

"Oh, hark! there's music!" cried one of the little girls; and all listened in silence.

"It is a bagpipe, playing a Scotch air," said Percy, who was standing near their little group.

"What queer music!" said one of the little girls when it had ceased; "but I like it. Please, Uncle Ronald, make some more."

Several tunes followed, and then the children were told they had monopolized their Uncle Ronald long enough and must leave him to the older people for a while.

"But you'll do some more for us some other time, won't you, Uncle Ronald?" asked one of the little girls as they reluctantly withdrew from his immediate neighborhood.