"He may have done so, but I doubt it. He's just naturally mean and cranky, and when he found Grit wandering about the street he probably notified a dog-catcher. I didn't think they were so strict when cool weather set in. Poor Grit! In a pound with a lot of curs! His feelings will be hurt." In answer to Dick's inquiries one of the stable men stated that Cadet Porter had come and gotten Grit, leading him off by a leash attached to his collar. "Did he say I said for him to take Grit?" asked the young millionaire. "No, sir, I can't say as how he did. But he's been real friendly with the dog, Mr. Porter has, and Grit knows him. Mr. Porter and Mr. Weston went off together with him. I hope you don't blame me, Mr. Hamilton," and the man seemed a bit alarmed. "No, it wasn't your fault. But, after this, please don't let any one take Grit without my permission. First thing I know he'll be stolen, and then Uncle Ezra will be as happy as a lark." On the way to town Dick and Paul met Porter and Weston returning. The faces of both were flushed, and they were smoking cigarettes. Porter seemed ill at ease as he encountered Dick, and the latter resolving to settle the matter once and for all said: "What right had you to take my dog, Porter?" "I'm mighty sorry, Ham," was the contrite answer, and for a change Porter was not blustering and overbearing as he usually was. "You see I took him in, as I've done once before, and you didn't mind, but----" "Yes, but this time I _do_ mind!" exclaimed Dick sharply. "He got away from you, didn't he?" "Yes, I tied him to the leg of the billiard table, while I shot a match with Weston. Beat him, too, and I must have felt so jolly over it that I forgot about Grit. When I went to look for him he was gone--he'd slipped out of his collar. I guess he was lonesome for you. He got home all right, I hope." "No, he didn't!" replied Dick in no gracious tones. "He didn't?" Porter was manifestly surprised. "He's in the pound, and I have to pay ten dollars to get him out." "Whew! That's tough luck! I'm mighty sorry about it. If I wasn't so counfoundedly short of funds now I'd give you the money for the fine right away. As it is I'll owe it to you." "No, you won't!" cried our hero sharply. "I'll pay it myself, but don't take Grit away again--please." He added the last as he happened to remember that he was captain of the football team, and that Weston, Porter's crony, was a member of the eleven, and that Porter might also play later. It would not do to be on bad terms with them, for the sake of the team. "Oh, well, you needn't be stiff about it," murmured Porter. "I didn't mean any harm. How did I know the dog would get away." "You didn't, I presume," agreed Dick, a little mollified. "But don't do it again. Come on, Paul." "You cad!" muttered Porter, as Dick swung around. "I'm beginning to hate you! I'll get even, some day too. You put me off the team!"