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The fire raged and flickered along the base of the bare rocky knoll； and； finding no path of advance； turned back on itself； fire…fashion； seeking new outlet。 The thin line of bushes and other undergrowth at the hillock's foot were quickly consumed； leaving only a broad bed of ember and spark。 And the conflagration swept on to the left； over the only course open to it。 To the right； the multiple ridges of rock and the dearth of vegetation were sufficient 〃No Thoroughfare〃 enforcement。
This same odd rock…formation had kept the wagon track clear； up to the twist where it bore to leftward at the base of the knoll。 And the Mistress and the Master were able to guide their rattlingly protesting car in safety up the trail from the main road far below。 The set of the wind prevented them from being blinded or confused by smoke。 Apart from a smarting of the eyes and a recurrent series of heat waves； they made the climb with no great discomfort；until the final turn brought them to an abrupt halt at the spot where the wide swath of red coals and flaming ashes marked the burning of the hillock foot bushes。
The Master jumped to earth and stood confronting the lurid stretch of ash and ember with； here and there； a bush stump still crackling merrily。 It was not a safe barrier to cross； this twenty…foot…wide fiery stretch。 Nor； for many rods in either direction； was there any way around it。
〃There's one comfort；〃 the Master was saying； as he began to explore for an opening in the red scarf of coals； 〃the fire hasn't gotten up to the camp…site。 He〃
〃But the smoke has；〃 said the Mistress； who had been peering vainly through the hazecurtain toward the summit。 〃And so has the heat。 If only〃
She broke off； with a catch in her sweet voice。 And； scarce realizing what she did； she put the silver whistle to her lips and blew a piercingly loud blast。
〃What's that for？〃 asked the Master； crankily； worry over his beloved dog making his nerves raw。 〃If Lad's alive； he's fastened there。 You say you saw him struggling to get loose； this morning。 He can't come； when he hears that whistle。 There's no sense inHow in blue blazes he ever got fastened there；if he really was；is more than I can〃
〃Hush！〃 begged the Mistress； breaking in on his grumbled monologue。 〃Listen！〃
Out of the darkness； beyond the knoll…top； came the sound of a bark；the clear trumpeting welcome…bark which Lad reserved for the Mistress and the Master； alone； on their return from any absence。
Through the night it echoed； gaily； defiantly； again and again； ringing out above the obscene hiss and crackle and roar of the forest…fire。 And at every repetition； it was nearer and nearer the dumfounded listeners at the knoll foot。
〃It'sit's Laddie！〃 cried the Mistress； in wondering rapture。 〃Oh； it's LADDIE！〃
The Master； hearing the glad racket； did a thoroughly asinine thing。 Drawing in his breath and holding his coat in front of him； he prepared to make a dash through the wide smear of embers； to the hilltop； where； presumably； Lad was still tied。 But； before he could take the first step； the Mistress stayed him。
〃Look！〃 she cried； pointing to the hither side of the knoll； lividly bright in the ember…glow。
Down the steep was galloping at breakneck speed a great； tawny shape。 Barking rapturously；even as he had barked when first the whistle's blast had roused him from his lazy repose in the lakeside shallows；Lad came whizzing toward the two humans who watched so incredulously his wild approach。
The Master； belatedly； saw that the collie could not avoid crashing into the spread of embers； and he opened his mouth to order Lad back。 But there was not time。
For once； the wise dog took no heed of even the simplest caution。 His lost and adored deities had called him and were awaiting him。 That was all Lad knew or cared。 They had come back for him。 His horrible vigil and loneliness and his deadly peril were ended。
Too insanely happy to note where he was treading； he sprang into the very center of the belt of smoldering coals。 His tiny white forefeetdrenched with icy waterdid not remain among them long enough to feel pain。 In two more bounds he had cleared the barrier and was dancing in crazy excitement around the Mistress and the Master； patting at them with his scorched feet； licking their eagerly caressing hands； 〃talking〃 in a dozen different keys of rapture； his whimpers and growls and gurgles running the entire gamut of long…pent…up emotions。
His coat and his feet had； for hours； been immersed in the cold water of the lake。 And； he had fled through the embers at express…train speed。 Scarce a blister marked the hazardous passage。 But Lad would not have cared for all the blisters and burns on earth。 His dear gods had come back to him；even as he had known they would！
Once more；and for the thousandth timethey had justified his divine Faith in them。 Nothing else mattered。
CHAPTER IX。 Old Dog； New Tricks
A mildewed maxim runs： 〃You can't teach an old dog new tricks。〃
Some proverbs live because they are too true to die。 Others endure because they have a smug sound and because nobody has bothered to bury them。 The one about old dogs and new tricks belongs in both categories。 In a sense it is true。 In another it is not。
To teach the average elderly dog to sit up and beg； or to roll over twice； or to do other of the asinine things with which humans stultify the natural good sense of their canine chums； is as hard as to teach a sixty…year…old grave…digger to become a musical composer。
But no dog with a full set of brains is ever past learning new things which are actually needful for him to learn。 And； sad to say； many an old dog； on his own account； picks up odd new accomplishmentsexploits which would never have occurred to him in his early prime。 Nobody knows why。 But it has happened； numberless times。
And so it was with Sunnybank Lad。
Laddie had passed his twelfth birthday； when； by some strange freak； he brought home one day a lace parasol。 He had found it in the highroad； on his way back to the Place after a sedate ramble in the forest。 Now； it was nothing new for the great collie to find missing articles belonging to the Mistress or to the Master。 Every now and then he would lay at their feet a tobacco pouch or a handkerchief or a bunch of keys that had been dropped； carelessly； somewhere on the grounds； and which Lad recognized； by scent； as belonging to one of the two humans he loved。
These bits of treasure trove； he delighted in finding and restoring。 Yes； andthough those who had never seen him do this were prone to doubt ithe was certain to lay the recovered object at the feet of whichever of the two had lost it。 For instance； it never occurred to him to drop a filmy square of lace…and…cambric at the muddied feet of the Master； or a smelly old tobacco…pouch at the Mistress's little feet。
There was nothing miraculous about this knowledge。 To a high…bred dog； every human of his acquaintance has a distinctive scent； which cannot be mistaken。 Lad used no occult power inn returning to the rightful owner any article he chanced to find on lawn or on veranda。
But the lace parasol was different。 That； presumably； had fallen from s