Lassie rose obediently. Then the man, the boy, and the dog left the cottage. Behind him, Joe could hear his mother’s voice still going on, but full of weariness, as if she would soon cry from her tiredness.

“If she’d stay, then happen we could have a little peace and quiet in the home, though heaven knows there’s not much chance of that these days, things being what they are…”

Joe heard her voice trail away as silently he followed his father and Lassie.

*   *   *

“Grandfather,” Priscilla said, “can animals hear things that we can’t?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course,” the Duke roared. “Take a dog, now. Hears five times as well as a human being. For instance, my silent dog whistle. It isn’t silent, really. Makes high frequency sounds, but we don’t hear them. No human can. Dog hears them, though, and comes running. That’s because…”

Priscilla saw her grandfather start and then begin waving his blackthorn stick menacingly as he went down the path.

“Carraclough! What’re ye doing there with my dog?”

Priscilla saw down the path a great, tall, village man and beside him a sturdy boy, who stood with his hand resting lightly on the mane of a collie. She heard the dog growl softly, as if in protest at the menacing advance of her grandfather, and then—the low voice of the boy quieting the dog. She followed her grandfather toward the strangers.

Sam Carraclough, seeing her coming, lifted his cap and poked his son to do likewise. This was not in any sense a servile gesture, but because many of the rough village people prided themselves in being well brought-up and conducting themselves with politeness.

“It’s Lassie,” Carraclough said.

“Of course it’s Lassie,” the Duke boomed. “Any fool can see that. What’re ye doing with her?”

“She’s run away again, and I’m bringing her back to you.”

“Again? Has she run away before?”

Sam Carraclough stood silent. Like most of the village people, his mind moved very slowly. From the Duke’s last words, he realized that Hynes had not told of her previous escape. And if he answered the Duke’s question, he felt that in some way he would be telling tales on Hynes. Even though he disliked Hynes, he could not tell on him, for, as he phrased it in his own honest mind, he “wouldn’t like to do a man out of his job.” Hynes might be discharged, and jobs were hard to get these days. Sam Carraclough knew that.

He solved his problem in a typical Yorkshire way. Stubbornly he repeated his last words.

“I’m bringing her back—that’s all.”

The Duke stared at him menacingly. Then he lifted his voice even louder.

“Hynes! Hynes! Why does that man always run away and hide every time I want him? Hynes!”

“Coming, sir—Coming,” came the nasal voice.

Soon Hynes came hustling from behind the shrubberies beside the kennels.

“Hynes, has this dog broken away before?”

Hynes squirmed uneasily.

“Well, sir, hit’s this way…”

“Did she or didn’t she?”

“In a way, sir, she did—but Hi didn’t want to disturb Your Grace about ’er,” Hynes said, fingering his cap nervously. “But Hi’ll jolly well see she doesn’t get away again. Can’t think ’ow she did it. Hi wired hup all the places she dug underneath, and Hi’ll see…”

“You’d better!” the Duke shouted. “Utter nincompoop! That’s what! I begin to think ye’re an utter nincompoop, Hynes! Pen her up. And if she breaks out again, I’ll—I’ll…”

The Duke did not finish explaining what dire things he intended to do, but instead went stumping away in an evil temper without so much as a “thank you” to Sam Carraclough.

Priscilla somehow felt that, for she started to follow her grandfather but then halted.