"Really, missy, he's a wonderful dog. I'll show yo' what he can do.

Come, Fritz, dance for missy."

The ragged leader held up a warning finger. Fritz wagged his stubby tail, but did not budge.

"Come, come, Fritz. Dance for de missy."

Fritz wagged his stubby tail more vigorously, but gave no other response. The boy looked wise.

"He's bashful, missy, jes' like me. Perhaps, if I whipped him like my mother whips me----"

"Does she whip you?"

"Yes, 'deed she does--if she kotches me," added the boy laughingly.

"If I'd whip Fritz, he'd dance, but I likes him too well to whip him."

Beth liked all dogs, with or without pedigree, and said warmly:

"I wouldn't whip him either, but it's too bad he won't dance. I'd really like to see him."

Again the boy said coaxingly, "Fritz, do dance," but the dog was not to be coaxed.

The boy frowned. "Yo'll think he can't dance, but 'deed he can.

Maybe, if I dance, he'll dance too."

At the word, the ragged pickaninny began whistling, and then he capered around and around performing some wonderful steps. Whereupon Fritz began to bark and caught at his master's heels.

"Stop, Fritz, stop," but the dog would not heed, and so the dancing came to a sudden stand-still.

The pickaninny c.o.c.ked his head on one side and whispered to Beth:

"He's out of sorts with me. I'm disgraced in his sight. He can dance so much bettah 'n me."

"Can he really?"

"Oh, a hundred times bettah."

"He must be a wonderful dog"--Beth was about to add, "Although he doesn't look it," and then desisted out of consideration for the dog's master.

"He's mighty smart. Why, 'less yo'd see all the tricks he does, yo'd never believe dem. Besides dancin', he jumps the rope, plays ball, says his prayers, gives his paw, jumps that high yo' wouldn't b'lieve it possible, rolls over----"

"What kind of dog is he?"

The boy scratched his head. "Well, missy, I can't jes' 'xactly say."

"If he is so very wonderful, you ought to know."

The boy was nonplused for a moment. Then he declared triumphantly; "Angels am very wonderful, ain't they? But yo' can't say 'xactly what they am."

Beth had not been much impressed by the dog, but now she began to feel astounded that she had had so little discernment.

"I'd like to own such a dog," she said.

"I'd give him to yo', only I couldn't spare him. Fritz never goes any place widout me. But, I'll tell yo' what: I'll let yo' play with him when yo' want to."

"Do you work for us?"

Again the boy laughed. "I work for yo'? No, 'deed; I'se too no 'count to work for the likes of yo'. I wuz jes' cuttin' 'cross fields through yo'r yard. If t.i.tus found me here, he'd kick me an' Fritz out."

"What is your name?"

"Caesar Augustus Jones, but they calls me Gustus. I wish I could work for yo'."

Beth pondered a moment. "If you did, would you keep Fritz here?"

Gustus caught the trend of her thoughts. His eyes sparkled and his teeth gleamed.

"Me and Fritz 'd stay all the time--nights, too, if yo' wanted."

"I'll ask papa. He'll take you to please me, I know. Come on."

Gustus hung back, and his face sobered.

"Why, what's the matter?"

"t.i.tus 'll kick me."

"I won't let him. Come on."

Thus encouraged, Gustus and Fritz followed her as she ran to the front steps, and on into a large old-fashioned hall. She stopped, momentarily, to peek into rooms on either side. There were two apartments on the right. She afterwards learned that they were parlor and library. On the left was one s.p.a.cious room designed either for a sitting-room or a bedroom.

At the end of the hall was the dining-room, running two-thirds of the way across the house. To Beth's surprise, she found the table unset, and no one within. She feared she had missed luncheon. Chancing, however, to look out through an open door, she immediately gave a little cry of delight, for she beheld Mr. and Mrs. Davenport and Marian seated at a table on the roomy piazza that ran between the dining-room and the kitchen.

Beth seized Gustus by the hand and drew him towards the family party.

Fritz bounded and yelped at their heels. His cries attracted the attention of the occupants of the piazza.

"Why, Elizabeth Davenport, what----"

"Oh, papa, this is Gustus, and I want you to let him work for us. This wonderful, wonderful dog is his, and if Gustus works for us, I can have Fritz to play with."

Beth stopped an instant for breath, which gave some of the others a chance to speak.

"Mamma, aren't his rags disgraceful?" whispered Marian to her mother.

"James, what shall we do?"

Mr. Davenport addressed the boy. "Are you looking for work?"

Gustus hung his head, but managed to say: