“What’s it mean by ‘without’?” asked Harry. “Without any money,” Chub suggested. “I suppose,” said Dick, “it means that if the owner isn’t inside he’s up there on top.” “He should have said ‘Inquire above or below,’ then,” said Roy. “Let’s change it for him,” Chub proposed genially. But Roy glanced at the dog and shook his head. “There’s no sense in carrying philanthropy too far,” he answered. “We’ll let him make his own changes.” “I wish we could see inside of it,” said Dick. “Do you suppose he’s in there? We might say we wanted to purchase and would like to look it over first.” “That’s so,” said Chub. “We could tell him we were particular about the drains. I wonder how much land goes with it?” “Just what’s in the flower-boxes, I suppose,” answered Roy. “Let’s call out and see if he’s at home,” whispered Harry. “All right; you shout,” Roy said. But Harry told him it wasn’t a lady’s place to shout. “I guess if he was at home,” remarked Dick, “he’d been out here five minutes ago to see what the trouble was; Snip’s been making enough racket to wake the dead.” “Who do you suppose he is?” wondered Harry. “And how long do you suppose he’s going to stay here?” “I think,” said Chub, “that he’s a traveling salesman for a paint factory, and this is his color card. I think I’ll go in and order a gallon of that old-shrimp pink.” “I think it’s painted very prettily,” murmured Harry. “Ought to have a touch of blue, though,” said Dick. “And orange,” Chub added. “There ought to be more variety; it’s too--too somber as it is.” The others laughed; all save Harry. She had advanced across the rock until she had only to take a step to reach the deck of the house-boat. The setter didn’t move an inch, but he kept his eyes on her very intently. “How do you do, Mr. Red Setter?” inquired Harry affably. The red setter flapped his tail once or twice, feebly but good-naturedly. “Will you kindly tell us where your master is?” For reply the dog arose, stretched himself luxuriously, and walked dignifiedly to the edge of the deck. Harry had no fear of any dog that ever was born, and so she reached forward and patted the setter’s head. He responded by wagging his tail in a leisurely and friendly manner and looking up into her face with a pair of very intelligent brown eyes. “Isn’t he a dear?” cried Harry. “He’s a rascal, that’s what he is,” laughed Chub. “Here he had us all scared stiff and he’s just an amiable old Towser, after all!” And Chub started across the rock to join Harry. But he thought better of it, for the setter turned his head toward him and growled warningly, the hair along his back standing on end. “Well, of all the rank partiality!” cried Chub, rejoining Dick and Roy, who were laughing at his discomfiture. “He knows I love dogs, don’t you, you old dear?” murmured Harry. “I love dogs myself, don’t I?” asked Chub offendedly. “Why doesn’t he know that?”