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e dog had far outdistanced him。 And； knowing how hard must be the trail to follow by sense of smell； he forbore to call back the questing collie； lest Lad lose the clew altogether。 He knew the dog was certain to bark the tidings when he should come up with the fugitive。
The Master by this time began to share his wife's worry。 For the trail Lad was following led out of the grounds and across the highway； toward the forest。
The newborn snowstorm was developing into a very promising little blizzard。 And the icy lash of the wind proved the fallacy of the old theory； 〃too cold to snow。〃 Even by daylight it would have been no light task to steer a true course through the whirling and blinding storm。 In the darkness； the man found himself stumbling along with drunkenly zigzag steps； his buffeted ears strained； through the noise of the wind for sound of Lad's bark。
But no such sound came to him。 And； he realized that snow and adverse winds can sometimes muffle even the penetrating bark of a collie。 The man grew frightened。 Halting； he shouted with all the power of his lungs。 No whimper from Cyril answered the hail。 Nor； at his master's summons； did Lad come bounding back through the drifts。 Again and again； the Master called。
For the first time in his obedient life； Lad did not respond to the call。 And the Master knew his own voice could not carry； for a single furlong； against wind and snowfall。
〃I'll go on for another half…hour；〃 he told himself； as he sought to discern the dog's all…but obliterated footsteps through the deepening snow。 〃And then I'll go back and raise a search party。〃
He came to a bewildered stop。 Fainter and more indistinguishable had Lad's floundering tracks become。 Now；by dint of distance and snow；they ceased to be visible in the welter of drifted whiteness under the glare of the Master's flashlight。
〃This means a search…party；〃 decided the man。
And he turned homeward； to telephone for a posse of neighbors。
Lad； being only a dog； had no such way of sharing his burden。 He had been told to find the child。 And his simple code of life and of action left him no outlet from doing his duty； be that duty irksome or easy。 So he kept on。 Far ahead of the Master； his keen ears had not caught the sound of the shouts。 The gale and the snow muffled them and drove them back into the shouter's throat。 Cyril； naturally； had not had the remotest intent of laboring through the bitter cold and the snow to the house of any neighbor； there to tell his woeful tale of oppression。 The semblance of martyrdom； without its bothersome actuality； was quite enough for his purpose。 Once before； at home； when his father had administered a mild and much…needed spanking； Cyril had made a like threat； and had then gone to hide in a chum's home； for half a day； returning to find his parents in agonies of remorse and fear； and ready to load him with peace…offerings。 The child saw no reason why the same tactics should not serve every bit as triumphantly； in the present case。
He knew the maids were in the kitchen and at least one man was in the stables。 He did not want his whereabouts to be discovered before he should have been able to raise a healthy and dividend…bringing crop of remorse in the hearts of the Mistress and the Master； so he resolved to go farther afield。
In the back of the meadow； across the road； and on the hither side of the forest； was a disused cattle…barrack； with two stalls under its roof…pile of hay。 The barrack was one of Cyril's favorite playhouses。 It was dry and tight。 Through his thick clothing he was not likely to be very cold； there； for an hour or two。 He could snuggle down in the warm hay and play Indians； with considerable comfort； until such time as the fright and penitence of his hosts should have come to a climax and make his return an ovation。
Meanwhile； it would be fun to picture their uneasiness and fear for his safety； and to visualize their journeyings through the snow to the houses of various neighbors； in search of the lost child。
Buoyed up by such happy thoughts as these； Cyril struck out at a lively pace for the highroad and into the field beyond。 The barrack； he knew； lay diagonally across the wide meadow； and near the adjoining woods。 Five minutes of tramping through the snow ought to bring him to it。 And he set off； diagonally。
But； before he had gone a hundred yards； he lost his first zest in the adventure。 The darkness had thickened； and the vagrant wind…gusts had tightened into a steady gale； a gale which carried before it a blinding wrack of stingingly hard…driven snow。
The gray of the dying dusk was blotted out。 The wind smote and battered the spindling child。 Mechanically； he kept on for five or six minutes； making scant and irregular progress。 Then； his spirit wavered。 Splendid as it would be to scare these hateful people； there was nothing splendid in the weather that numbed him with cold and took away his breath and half…blinded him with snow。
What was the fun of making others suffer； if he himself were suffering tenfold more？ And； on reaching the barrack； he would have all that freezing and blast…hammering trip back again。 Aw； what was the use？
And Cyril came to a halt。 He had definitely abandoned his high enterprise。 Turning around； he began to retrace his stumbling steps。 But； at best； in a large field； in a blizzard and in pitch darkness； and with no visible landmarks； it is not easy to double back on one's route； with any degree of accuracy。 In Cyril's case； the thing was wholly impossible。
Blindly； he had been traveling in an erratic half…circle。 Another minute of walking would have brought him to the highroad； not far from the Place's gateway。 And； as he changed his course； to seek the road； he moved at an obtuse angle to his former line of march。
Thus； another period of exhausting progress brought him up with a bump against a solid barrier。 His chilled face came into rough contact with the top rail of a line fence。
So relieved was the startled child by this encounter that he forgot to whine at the abrasion wrought upon his cheek by the rail。 He had begun to feel the first gnawings of panic。 Now； at once； he was calm again。 For he knew where he was。 This was the line fence between the Place's upper section and the land of the next neighbor。
All he need do was to walk along in the shelter of it； touching the rails now and then to make certain of not straying； until he should come out on the road； at the gate lodge。 It was absurdly easy； compared to what he had been undergoing。 Besides； the lee of the fence afforded a certain shelter from wind and snow。 The child realized he had been turned about in the dark； and had been going in the wrong direction。 But now； at last； his course seemed plain to him。
So he set off briskly； close to the fence；and directly away from the nearby road。
For another half…hour he continued his inexplicably long tramp； always buoyed up by the hope of coming to the road in a few more steps； and doggedly sure of his bearings。 Then； turning out from the fence； in order to skirt a wide hazel thicket； he tripped over an outcrop of rock； and tumbled into a drift。 Getting to his feet； he sought to regain the