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The Doves' Nest and Other Stories


Lino's nose quivered so pitifully, there was such a wistful, timid look in his eyes, that Potts' heart was wrung. But of course he would not show it. " Well," he said sternly, " I suppose you'd better come home." And he got up off the bench. Lino got up, too, but stood still, holding up a paw.

" But there's one thing," said Potts, turning and facing him squarely, " that we'd better be clear about before you do come. And it's this." He pointed his finger at Lino who started as though he expected to be shot. But he kept his bewildered wistful eyes upon his master. " Stop this pretence of being a fighting dog," said Potts more sternly than ever. " You're not a fighting dog. You're a watch dog. That's what you are. Very well. Stick to it. But it's this infernal boasting I can't stand. It's that that gets me."

In the moment's pause that followed while Lino and his master looked at each other it was curious how strong a resemblance was be- page 155 tween them. Then Potts turned again and made for home.

And timidly, as though falling over his own paws, Lino followed after the humble little figure of his master . . .