Dick looked up and down the street. Not far from the restaurant was a stable, setting back some distance, and reached by an alley. "Maybe he's in there," suggested Paul. "It may remind him of the barracks at Kentfield Academy." "Maybe," assented Dick. "I'll take a look." As he neared the stable he heard the muffled barking of a dog. A burly man sauntered out of a shed and demanded: "Whatcher want here?" "Have you seen anything of a bulldog?" asked Dick. "Naw." "That sounds like my dog barking." "Aw, that's me own pup. He's allers barking." Something in the man's manner made Dick suspicious. "Would you mind letting me see him?" he asked, quietly. "Perhaps my dog got in there by--er--mistake." "Naw, he ain't there. An' dis is private property--see? You'd better vamoose!" "I think I'll take a look just the same," insisted Dick. He glanced about and saw that Paul and Innis were coming into the alley. "Reinforcements," thought Dick. "Did you locate him?" called Paul. "I think so." The surly man came forward. "Hi, Bill!" he called to some one in the shed he had left. "Here's a couple of fresh guys that need lookin' after." "Oh, we can look after ourselves; thank you," said Dick. Then, raising his voice, he called sharply: "Here, Grit! Hi, old man!" A perfect chorus of barks answered him. The young millionaire sprang toward the stable, but before he could reach the door there was the sound of a rattling chain, that seemed to snap. Then came a choking gurgle, and the next moment the door burst open and Grit, leaping and bounding, rushed out. "Grit!" called Dick. The dog barked an answer, and then, trailing the broken chain after him, made a rush at the surly man. "Look out!" called Paul. "If he gets hold of you----" The man did not stop to hear the rest of the warning. With a leap he made for the shed he had left, pushing his companion before him, and slamming the door shut in time to cause Grit to bound fiercely up against it. "He's a lucky chap," murmured Innis, while the dog leaped and bounded about the closed portal, barking with rage. "Here, Grit!" called Dick. His pet, after a moment of hesitation, and a longing look at the shut door, came to him limping. "The brutes!" exclaimed Dick, as he saw where his dog had been kicked. "I've a notion to have them arrested." "It will only make a lot of trouble, and delay us, to testify against them," said Paul. "Let's get out of here." "I guess that's best," assented Dick. "They tried to keep my dog, though. But you were too much for 'em; eh, Grit?" The bulldog nearly turned himself inside out trying to wag his short tail, and fawned about his master and the latter's chums.