“I hope not, lad, for all hands of us are getting a good bit of satisfaction out of you and the dog.” Benny was kept busy in the kitchen a greater portion of the succeeding forty-eight hours, and then the shipwrecked sailors were sent to the neighboring city, after which the crew at the station settled down to the old routine of drill and patrol, every man looking forward eagerly to the reply from headquarters regarding their request in the boy’s behalf. Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing had taken it upon themselves to teach Maje that Fluff was entitled to the liberty of the station grounds, and, at the expense of considerable time, and much loss of temper on the part of Maje, the lesson was so nearly learned that the big dog allowed the little one to go here and there without interference, but Benny did not trust wholly to appearances. “It won’t do any harm if I keep my eye on Fluff when he goes out,” the lad said gravely after Sam Hardy had suggested that there was no longer any good reason for being suspicious of Maje. “Of course your dog is bound to be jealous for a spell, and till he gets over it I wouldn’t want to trust Fluff alone with him very long at a time.” Both Sam and Joe were positive Maje could be depended upon to behave himself, and appeared eager Benny should allow matters to take their natural course, so far as the two animals were concerned, therefore the boy permitted Fluff to go out of doors whenever he was so disposed; but he was careful to first make certain that Maje was not in the immediate vicinity. It was nearly sunset on the day the shipwrecked mariners had been conveyed to the city. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the sea was so calm that it was almost difficult to believe it could ever be aroused to a roaring fury. The lookout on day-duty had come down to the station for supper, and the two whose time for patrol began at sunset were already eating the evening meal that they might be ready to set out at the exact moment. Benny had been assisting the cook as usual, but was now waiting upon the men who were about to go on patrol. Fluff, ten minutes previous, had whined for permission to go out of doors for a stroll, and, after learning that Maje was in the oil-room, where he usually found a shelter during exceedingly cold or stormy weather, Benny opened the door for his pet. So white was Fluff, thanks to his master’s custom of giving him a bath every other day, that it was almost impossible to distinguish him in the gloom of early twilight while he remained on the snow, and Benny lost sight of him before he had gone a hundred feet from the building. Then he was called by one of the men, and while attending to whatever trifling duty had been set him, it was observed that the boy appeared anxious. “What’s the matter, Benjamin?” Sam Hardy asked. “Anything wrong with Mr. Fluff C. Foster?”