"He won't like it much!" said David. "His teeth aren't good; he can only eat chicken bones, but hunger will make him nibble it by-and-by. Now, Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring me a square, flat board, which you will find there?" "What a funny board!" said Fly, returning in a moment. "It's all over little square holes." "Those are for him to breathe through," said David. "Now, then, master, here you go! You won't annoy any one in particular here, unless, perhaps, you interfere with Mr. Bull's arrangements. Hold the board over the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now then, I hope you'll enjoy yourself, my dear amiable little friend." The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion's mouth was removed. He was popped into the hole, and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which not even tortures should wring from them. At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared late on the scene. Her eyes were red with weeping. She also looked extremely cross. "Helen, I must request you to have some fresh coffee made for me. I cannot bear half cold coffee. Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. Yes, my dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for being late; the dog is nowhere to be found." A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. Fly crimsoning greatly, lowered her eyes; but David looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron. "Is it that nice little Scorpion?" he asked. "I'm awfully sorry, but I suppose he went for a walk." Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David's sympathetic face. "No, my dear boy, that isn't his habit. The dear little dog sleeps, as a rule, until just the last moment. Then I lift him gently, and carry him downstairs for his cream." "I wonder how he likes that bare beef bone?" murmured Fly, almost aloud. "He's sure to come home for his cream in a moment or two!" said David. He gave Fly a violent kick under the table. "Helen," said Mrs. Cameron, "be sure you keep Scorpion's cream." "There isn't any," replied Helen. "I was obliged to send it up to father. There was not nearly so much cream as usual this morning. I had scarcely enough for father." "You don't mean to tell me you have used up the dog's cream?" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. "Well, really, that _is_ too much. The little animal will starve, he can't touch anything else. Oh, where is he? My little, faithful pet! My lap feels quite empty without him. My dear children, I trust you may never love--_love_ a little creature as I love Scorpion, and then lose him. Yes, I am seriously uneasy, the dog would not have left me of his own accord." Here, to the astonishment of everybody, and the intense indignation of Mrs. Cameron, Fly burst into a scream of hysterical laughter, and hid her face in Polly's neck. "What a naughty child!" exclaimed the good lady. "You have no sympathy with my pet, my darling! Speak this minute. Where is the dog, miss?" "I expect in his grave," said Fly.