"A young man, not very nice-looking, Master Dick, and smelling very strong of the stables. In fact, that's what made Grit finally take to him. Grit's very fond of horses and stables, sir. He'll let almost anyone come near him as long as they've been around a barn." "That's so. Did the man say anything, or give any name?" "No. He just said you were going for a walk and wanted Grit to go 'long. Said you was too busy to come and had sent the leash so's he'd have no trouble. He didn't have--that is, not very much--barring that Grit wanted to get hold of his leg first. But when the dog had sniffed at the leash, probably knowin' it came from you, he was quiet enough. But I could see the man was askeered of him, Master Dick. He walked to one side like. Why, Master Dick, is anything wrong?" "Wrong? I should say so! Grit's been stolen, Peters." "You don't say so, Master Dick!" exclaimed the man, much alarmed at his part in the matter. "Yes, he's been stolen, and by a clever trick," went on Dick. "But I don't blame you, Peters. I remember now, I lost the leash thong last night. I had it on Grit and I took it off and put it in my pocket. Then I missed it after the party, and I was too tired to look for it. Someone must have found it, and, knowing it belonged to Grit, made up his mind to steal him. The fellow must have known he'd come more willingly after smelling his own leash." "But you must have lost it somewhere around here," went on Peters. "Someone at the party may have found it." "If they had they would have known it was mine," answered Dick. "No, I think someone outside found it and he stole Grit. Well, I've got to find him, that's all. Saddle Rex, and I'll make some inquiries about town." "But it's near dinner-time, Master Dick." "I don't care. I can't eat if Grit is gone," and with a heavy heart Dick waited for the horse to be saddled. He whistled shrilly his favorite call to Grit, hoping the dog might have broken away not far from the stable, and be in hiding somewhere, but no Grit appeared. On the back of Rex, Dick made a hasty tour of the immediate neighborhood, inquiring of various persons he met if they had seen the bulldog. Grit was well known about Hamilton Corners, for he was often seen in his master's company. But this time no one had noticed him being led off in leash by a young man who seemed quite afraid of the brute that was so handsome for his very ugliness. "He's been stolen for a reward," was Mr. Hamilton's opinion when he came home to lunch and heard Dick's woeful story. "You'll hear from him sooner or later. Better advertise in the county papers." Dick put in several notices that afternoon, offering to pay a reward of a hundred dollars for the return of Grit. "Now we'll have to wait," said the millionaire. "Never mind, Dick; if Grit is gone you can get another dog," for Mr. Hamilton was as fond of animals as was his son. "There'll never be another Grit," answered Dick, sorrowfully.