Rick and Ruddy: The Story of a Boy and His Dog

"Well, now we'll have breakfast and go home with Ruddy," said Rick, as morning dawned and the boys, rather stiff and cold it must be confessed, arose and stretched themselves out of the bunks. They had been obliged to "double-up" when it was decided that it was no longer needful to stand watch as the bunks were only intended to hold four.

"Yes, we'll be getting back," the Scout Master said. "We have just about enough food for breakfast."

"Won't you come up to our house?" invited Sam Brown. "Mother will be glad to have you."

"Yes, come on!" urged his brother Pete. "I'll run ahead and tell 'em you're coming," and before they could stop him he had sped away. He came back a little later shouting:

"Come on! Mother's all ready for you! She's going to have pancakes and sausage and hot coffee and syrup and gravy and everything! Come on!"

And you may well believe that Rick and his friends did not pass by an invitation like this.

Ruddy had a good breakfast, too, though he did not eat at the table with the boys and the Scout Master. And between bites the boys told the farmer and his wife of the events of the night.

"Those junk fellows ought to be cleaned out!" declared Mr. Brown. "They're as bad as the Gypsies! We farmers will have to get together and drive 'em away."

After breakfast preparations were made for the boys to go back to their homes. As it was Saturday there would be no school, so they planned to have a good time after reaching Belemere.

"But first I want to take a look at the log cabin," said Mr. Brown. "If those junk fellows are around I'm going to give 'em notice to clear out."

However he did not have that chance, for when Rick and his friends reached the old log cabin where they had camped out for the night the junk man's horse, and the wagon loaded with odds and ends, were gone.

"They came and got 'em while we were eating!" exclaimed Mr. Brown. "They must have been watching their chance."

And, very likely, the men were. At any rate there was no further sign of them, and as Rick had Ruddy back, and as it was thought best not to get into a dispute, just then, with the junk men living in the ramshackle old house near the swamp, nothing was done about it.

"But we farmers will get together and drive those fellows out!" declared Mr. Brown. "If they'll take dogs they'll take other things, especially now with winter coming on. We must clear them out!"

Then Rick, with Ruddy following joyously, the dog now and then running back and sniffing at the legs of the boys, started for home.

"We did what we set out to do," said Mr. Taylor, "and that is generally the way with Boy Scouts. But we didn't do it in just the way we planned."

"But we got Ruddy back!" exclaimed Rick, "and I'm going to be a Boy Scout!"

"That's the way to talk!" cried Chot.

Mr. and Mrs. Dalton and Mazie listened eagerly to the story Rick told—of the night spent in the log cabin, and how Ruddy came back.

"But who cut him loose?" asked Rick's father.

"That's what we don't know," said the boy. "It must have been somebody who liked dogs."

And it was not until some time later that they heard about the sailor, who, with his knife, slashed the rope that kept Ruddy a prisoner.

For several days after this adventure Rick kept close watch over Ruddy, as, indeed, Mrs. Dalton did when Rick was at school. The whole Dalton family, as well as the boys and girls in the neighborhood of Rick's house, had come to know and care for the brown setter. The setter is a very lovable sort of dog, not perhaps as strong in character as a bull, a collie or Airedale, but of a disposition that makes you love him in spite of the tricks he sometimes plays.

But as the days passed, and neither the ragged sailor nor the still more ragged junk man was seen in Belemere, Rick began to feel that his dog was safe.

"I guess he won't try to take him again, Rick," said Sig Bailey, the coast guard. "And if I see that sailor along the beach again I'll tell him what I think of him!"

But the sailor did not come again for a long time.

Winter was now at hand. Several times the clouds had seemed to promise snow, and the hopes of the boys and girls who had sleds rose high. But the hopes came to naught, for the clouds blew away without sending down the sifting, white flakes.

At last, however, the glorious days of winter really came. One morning when Rick jumped out of bed and looked from the window, he saw a sight that gladdened his heart.

"Oh, Mazie!" he cried. "It's snowing! It's snowing!"

And Mazie took up the happy cry:

"It's snowing! It's snowing!"

Down in the kitchen, where he was having a warm breakfast, Ruddy barked joyously.

"Oh, what fun we'll have!" chanted Rick. "We'll ride down hill, we'll make a snow man, a snow house, a fort and everything! Oh, what fun we'll have!"

And Rick and the boys did have fun. So did the girls. So did Ruddy and his friend Peter, the bulldog, floundering about in the snow. It was ever so much more fun for the dogs to play in the snow than in the rain, just as it is more fun for boys and girls to scatter the white flakes rather than dodge the pattering drops of water.

As Rick had said, there was coasting and the building of snow houses. Snow men were made, and pelted with snowballs. Snow forts were built on the hills and the boys divided into soldier companies and had battles with snowballs.

One day when Rick had been coasting with the other boys he had stayed so late that it was almost dark. One by one his chums went home after long, swift rides over the snow-covered hill, but Rick and Ruddy remained on the slope. One or twice Rick took Ruddy down on the sled with him, and the dog seemed to like the swift motion, just as dogs like auto riding.

"One more coast and we'll go!" said Rick, as he saw that he was the last boy left on the hill. His sister Mazie had gone home some time before, telling Rick he had better hurry or he would be late for supper.

"One more ride!" the boy told himself.

He got on his sled. Ruddy, who had been capering about until he was tired, lay down in the snow at the top of the hill. Rick gave himself a push and started down the steep grade.

Just how it happened he never knew, but his sled must have struck a stone, or some obstruction, and in a moment it went off the side of the hill, down into a deep gully, filled with a deep, white drift.

Into this drift plunged Rick, head first, sled and all. And down into the soft snow he fell. At first he was not alarmed, for he had often rolled from his sled into a drift. But this drift was different. At one edge was a big rock, and Rick's head struck on this.

In an instant all seemed to get black before the eyes of the boy—much blacker than the blackness of approaching night. A queer, dizzy feeling came over Rick. He appeared to be sinking away down deep—as if into the depths of the ocean out of which Ruddy had come to him.

And the last thing Rick remembered was the distant barking of his dog. Then the boy fell into the drift, making a hole as he plunged into the soft mass of snow. Down, down he went, he and his sled. And then Rick disappeared from the view of Ruddy up on top of the hill.

CHAPTER XXI
THROUGH THE ICE

That was where he found himself now, and, as he opened his eyes, though his head hurt him very much as he did this, he saw the snow all about him.

And then Rick heard the barking of a dog, and at once he knew whose dog it was.

"That's Ruddy!" he murmured. "Good, old Ruddy! Here, Rud! Rud!" he called.

The barking came louder, and Rick looked up toward the top of the hole. It was as if he were down in a well, the sides of which were made of snow. At the top he could see the sky, from which the last glow of the sun had faded, but a few stars were glittering there. And Rick saw something else. It was the head of Ruddy.

Ruddy was leaning over the hole in the snow drift, looking down at Rick who had fallen to the bottom.

"Come on down, Ruddy. Come and help me up!" called Rick, after he had tried to move and found that he could not. Something seemed to be the matter with one of his legs, and when he turned his head the least bit, he felt dizzy. It even hurt him to call to his dog.

And no sooner had Rick told Ruddy to jump down into the snow hole with him than he wished he had not done so.

"If Ruddy comes down here," thought Rick, "he can't get out either, and then we'll both be in a hole! Stay back, Ruddy! Stay back!" he called, faintly.

But there was no need to tell Ruddy that. The setter was a wise dog, and though he very much wanted to aid his master, he was not going to run into danger himself, and so make it impossible for him to help Rick. Ruddy was a wise dog.

He had seen Rick go down in the snow drift, and at first thought nothing of it. It was not the first time Rick had toppled into the snow that day.

But when several minutes went by, and Rick did not come out, laughing as he always did, Ruddy became uneasy. He ran down the hill, almost as fast as the coasting sled had gone down, and when he came to the edge of the hole he stopped. That was where Ruddy was wise.

If he had gone on much farther he would have slipped into the drift himself, and, while he might have been able to flounder his way out, he would not have been of any use to his master.

So Ruddy stopped on the hard, firm edge of the hole, at the place where Rick had toppled in. And there Ruddy stood, looked down at his master, and barked.

Ruddy could not see as well, by looking down into the hole of snow, as Rick could see by looking up, but the dog knew his master was there.

"Stay up there, Ruddy! Stay there!" called Rick, faintly, trying to fight off the feeling of weakness and the blackness that appeared to be trying to cover him with a heavy blanket. "Stay up there—and go get help! Go home, Ruddy!"

Ruddy barked again, and there was a different meaning to it. If another dog had been there he could have very easily have understood what Ruddy was saying. It was this:

"All right, Master! I'll go home! I'll go get help! But I just wanted you to know that I wasn't going to run off and leave you all alone. I'm going to help you, but I can't do it if I jump down there with you."

Giving a last bark, as if to tell Rick to keep up his courage and not to worry, Ruddy sprang away, and raced up the hill toward home.

Rick had a final glimpse of his dog as the animal drew back from the top of the well-like hole in the snow. Then Rick decided to try to do something for himself.

"I wonder why I can't get up and dig my way out?" he asked himself. "I can use my sled for a shovel."

But when he tried to move he felt such a sharp pain in his leg, and his head pained him so, and he felt so dizzy, that he had to stop. The night seemed to be settling down now, blacker than ever. Rick could see no stars now, but he began to feel a warm glow coming over him, as though he had drawn near some blazing fire.

Somehow Rick remembered reading that travelers, overcome in the snow, felt this warmth before they lost their senses and froze to death. And he tried to fight off the drowsiness.

"I must wake up! I must wake up and dig my way out of here!" he said to himself over and over again. But each time he tried to move he was unable.

And then for a time he knew nothing. He just lay there, all crumpled up at the bottom of a deep hole in the snow.

The next thing Rick knew was that he heard voices. At first they seemed to be a long way off, but they came nearer. Then he felt himself being moved, and he opened his eyes to see lights gleaming. He saw his father bending over him, lifting him up, and he heard his father's voice saying:

"Well, Rick, my boy! Ruddy did you another good turn! He brought us to you! Now you're all right!"

And somehow, though his leg still hurt him, and his head pained, Rick knew it was all right. He settled back in his father's arms, and felt himself being carried along, through a sort of snow tunnel.

And that is just the way Rick was taken out of the hole into which he had fallen with his sled. Ruddy, after leaving his master, having barked, as well as he knew how to tell him what he was going to do, had raced home. There he acted so strangely, grasping Mr. Dalton by the coat, and fairly pulling the boy's father toward the door, that Mazie cried:

"Oh, what makes Ruddy act so funny? Something must be the matter!"

"Something has happened to Rick!" exclaimed Mrs. Dalton. "I know it!"

"I think that must be it," her husband replied. "I'll go with Ruddy and see."

Quickly putting on his hat, Mr. Dalton went out with the dog, and Ruddy showed, very plainly by his joyful barks, that this was just what he wanted.

"It's just like the time Rick fell out of the tree when he was chestnutting," said Mazie.

"But he wouldn't be climbing trees now," said Mrs. Dalton, who was beginning to get worried. "Rick went coasting."

"Maybe he went so fast that his sled climbed a tree," suggested the little girl.

And Ruddy led Mr. Dalton right to the hole down which Rick had fallen with his sled. Mazie had not guessed it quite right. The sled had taken her brother down, not up.

Flashing the rays of a pocket electric torch he carried, down into the hole in the snow, Mr. Dalton saw Rick lying at the bottom, and it did not take the father long, with the help of some neighbors who brought shovels, to dig a tunnel through the snow to where Rick was and carry him out of the drift. If they had started to get him from above they might have caved the pile of snow down on top of him.

"But what made my head feel so funny?" asked Rick, when he had been taken home, put to bed and the doctor called.

"You struck on your head pretty hard," answered Dr. Wayne with a smile. "It made you partly unconscious at times, and then you got numb with the cold, and almost went too sound asleep."

"Is my leg broken?" asked Rick. "I couldn't stand up on it."

"No, it was only twisted by your fall," the doctor told him. "You will be all right in a few days."

And so Rick was, but during those few days he had to stay in bed, though part of the time he could lie on a couch and look out of the window at the snow. And all this time Ruddy never left him. The dog stayed beside his master, only going out at night to his kennel when Rick had fallen asleep.

"And don't let that old sailor or the junk man get him," Rick begged of his father and mother, when it came time to put Ruddy out.

"I guess Ruddy himself won't let them come near him again," spoke Mr. Dalton.

And so there grew between Rick and Ruddy a firmer bond of love and affection than ever. When Rick grew tired of reading or of looking out of the window he would glance toward Ruddy. And the dog, who had been, perhaps, asleep on the rug near his master's chair, seemed to know the minute Rick looked at him, even if the dog's eyes were shut, for Ruddy would give a low bark of pleasure and his tail would thump the floor.

That was Ruddy's way of talking.

The winter days passed. Rick grew strong again and went out to play in the snow and on the ice with Ruddy. And all the boys wished they had such a dog as was the red setter.

There came a thaw, a rain and then a freeze. Instead of the ground being covered with snow, all the ponds, lakes and streams were frozen over.

"Now for some skating!" cried Rick. And Ruddy barked joyously. For, though he could not skate, and though he slid over the ice when he tried to walk on it, still he had fun, and loved to be out of doors with his master and the other boys.

One day Rick, Chot and Tom were down on Weed River with their skates. Rick had taken Mazie with him, and while she skated with some other little girls, her brother and his chums started a game of hockey.

They were in the midst of it, and Rick's side was winning, when, suddenly, there sounded a loud, cracking noise.

"There goes the ice!" cried Chot. "Skate to shore, everybody! The ice is breaking!"

Forgetting their game, Rick and the others headed for the safe shore. But even as Rick glided along, followed by Ruddy, the boy glanced down toward where he had left Mazie. He could not see her, but he noticed the other girls fleeing toward the river bank. And then from one of them came the cry:

"Mazie's in the water! Mazie went through the ice!"

CHAPTER XXII
THE SAILOR COMES AGAIN

The boys turned, as soon as they reached the bank, and ran toward the place where they saw a hole in the ice. And, as Rick ran he caught a glimpse of his sister Mazie. She was down in the hole that had broken open when the ice cracked. Her head and shoulders were out of the hole.

But even ahead of the boys ran Ruddy, the dog. He seemed to know something had happened, as he knew it the time Rick was caught in the tree, and when his master fell into the snow drift.

He barked loudly, did Ruddy, and he looked back, every once in a while to see if the boys were coming. And they were, you may be sure of that. Rick, Chot, Tom and the others were hurrying to save Mazie.

"How—how we going to get her out?" gasped Tom.

"Run right up to her and pull her out!" cried Chot. "She's holding to the edge of the ice. I can see her. Her head isn't under water! We got to pull her out!"

"But we mustn't run up to her!" exclaimed Rick. "If we do—we'll—go in the water, too! The ice will break with us—same as—it did with—Mazie!"

He could hardly talk he was so excited and out of breath from running. He was gasping for breath.

"How we going to get your sister to shore if we don't pull her up out of the hole?" asked Tom.

"We got to get a board—or something—put it on the ice and walk out on it!" Rick answered.

"That's right!" cried Chot. "I remember now! It's in our Boy Scout book. You got to use fence rails, or something to put down on the ice when it's cracking, to hold your weight. There's a fence! We can pull off some boards."

The girls continued screaming and jumping up and down on the bank, pointing toward Mazie, who was still in the water. She was holding to the ice at the edge of the hole through which she had fallen, and she was trying to call for Rick. But she was so cold and frightened she could hardly make a sound.

"Get the boards!" cried Rick to his chums.

But Ruddy waited for no boards. He saw that Mazie was in danger and he went to help her in the only way he knew—by going straight to the hole, reaching down and catching hold of the loose shoulder of the little girl's coat.

That's what Ruddy did! He ran straight over the ice toward the hole. And because Ruddy was a dog, and had four feet resting on the ice, instead of only two, like the boys, and because he was not as heavy as either Rick, Chot or Tom, the ice did not break under the dog's weight. Ruddy, standing on four feet, spread his weight over a larger part of the ice, and this is just why a board should be used by anyone who is trying to save a person who has fallen into an ice hole. A board, or two or three fence rails, will hold you up on ice that would be too thin to walk on.

So it was that Ruddy did not break through, even when he went to the edge of the hole, in which poor Mazie was floundering. He reached over, caught hold of her loose coat in his teeth, and tried to pull her out. But this was too much for Ruddy. His paws were not made for getting a good hold on the ice, and he began to slip toward the dark, cold water.

"Ruddy! Ruddy! Come back!" cried Rick, when he saw what was happening. "You can't get Mazie out, and you'll go in yourself."

"We'll get her out! We have the fence rails!" shouted Chot. "Come here, Ruddy!"

But Ruddy would not let go of Mazie until he saw Rick and Chot close beside him, at the edge of the hole. The boys were standing on some fence rails, and these bore them up on the thin ice.

"Catch hold of her, now!" cried Rick, and he and Chot took a firm grip, one at each of the little girl's shoulders. The fence rails were on either side of the hole, and the boys, lifting with all their strength, pulled Mazie out of the water. Ruddy ran back, barking, toward shore, when Rick told him to. Tom held the two shore ends of the rails steady so they would not slide on the smooth, hard, frozen surface.

In another moment Rick and Chot had Mazie safe on the firm ice and were hurrying with her toward the bank.

"Oh, Mazie! are you—are you drowned?" asked Edna, one of her chums.

"No—no! I—I—I'm not drowned," chattered Mazie, "but I'm terrible c-c-c-old!"

"We got to get her home!" cried Rick. "She's got to be warm!"

Quickly the boys took off Mazie's skates, and then, with Rick on one side of her and Chot on the other, while Tom took the other frightened girls in charge, the homeward trip was quickly made.

You may be sure there was much excitement in the Dalton house when the children were seen coming along, Mazie dripping wet and with Rick and Chot holding either arm. But Mrs. Dalton was accustomed to things happening, and as long as she saw that Mazie was alive and not hurt, she did not worry, but began making ready to warm the drenched and cold little girl.

Mazie was soon dried and put into a warm bed, with a hot water bag at her feet. She was given hot chocolate to drink and when the doctor came he said she might not be any the worse off for her adventure; at least he hoped she would not be.

And Mazie was not. Aside from a little cold, which she could hardly help having, she did not suffer much from having broken through the ice.

"Were you scared?" asked Rick, when it was all over.

"I just guess I was!" answered Mazie. "But when I saw Ruddy coming for me I seemed to know it would be all right. He saved me and he saved you; didn't he, Rick?"

"He sure did!" exclaimed the boy.

"And you and your chums did well, too," said Mr. Dalton. "You did just the right thing in getting the fence rails. I am glad to know Chot remembered some of his Boy Scout rules, and glad that you did not get so excited that you 'lost your heads,' as it is called."

"They would look funny without any heads!" laughed Mazie.

And so Rick loved Ruddy more than ever, and so did everyone who knew the dog.

The winter brought many good times to Rick and his friends, but there were no more such accidents as falling into a snow drift or breaking through the ice.

The snow storms and the freezing nights began to pass away. Spring was near and though Rick liked winter he was glad the days were coming when he and his dog could roam over the fields and through the woods; when he could toss sticks into Weed River or Silver Lake, and have Ruddy swim out to get them and bring them back.

One day, when Rick had come home from school, after a little April shower, and when it seemed as if May flowers were just ready to bloom, he fed his pet crow, Haw-Haw, and then ran to Ruddy's kennel.

"Come on boy! Now for a run!" cried Rick.

And Ruddy, with a joyful bark, seemed to answer:

"Here I am, Rick, ready and waiting for you!"

As dog and boy ran toward the front gate, and as Rick gave his cry of "Ee-oh!" to call Chot to come out and have fun, a strange, harsh voice snapped out:

"There he is! There he is!"

And down the street came the old ragged sailor!

CHAPTER XXIII
HAPPY DAYS

The voice appeared to come from the ragged sailor, yet the strange man of the sea had not opened his lips.

And again came the harsh cry:

"There he is! Over the fence with him! Ha! Ha! The stormy winds do blow! Do blow! Do blow!"

And then, with a start of surprise, Rick saw, crawling up from behind the sailor, and sitting on his shoulder a green parrot. And the parrot, as he pulled himself along the sailor's coat, using claws and his big, hooked beak, opened his mouth, stuck out his queer, thick black tongue and cried:

"Ship ahoy! Where away! Two points off on the weather bow! Bow wow! Bow wow!"

Ruddy uttered a growl and started forward, his eyes fixed on the green bird, but Rick pulled him back.

"Quiet, Ruddy! Down!" spoke the boy in a low voice, and Ruddy, with one look up into his master's face stretched out at his feet. Ruddy, like a good and well-trained dog, had learned to mind, and a dog that will not obey is of very little use, even as a pet.

"Well, I've come back, you see!" said the sailor, and he reached up his hand to stroke the gaily-colored feathers of the parrot. "I've come back."

"Yes—yes," said Rick, slowly. "I—I see you!"

"And do you see my parrot?" went on the sailor. "Do you see Poll? Look at her!"

Indeed Rick was looking at the green bird, and the parrot, as she heard her name spoken, screeched out:

"Pretty Poll! Very pretty! Polly bite!"

"No you don't!" quickly exclaimed the sailor, shaking his finger and tapping the bird's beak. "If you bite not another cracker do you get for a week!"

"Ha! Ha! Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll! Over the fence is out! What ho! Sail ho! Ho! Ho!"

Thus cried the green parrot, and then from the woodshed came another voice, almost like that of the bird on the sailor's shoulder.

"Haw! Haw! Haw!" was shouted from the wood shed. "Get up! Get up! Whew-ew-ew-e-e-e-e-e-ah!" and a shrill whistle ended the jumble of queer sounds, at which Ruddy barked again.

"Have you a parrot, too?" asked the ragged sailor, in surprise.

"No, that's Haw-Haw, my tame crow," answered Rick, who still stood close to Ruddy, as though guarding his dog.

"A—a crow!" the sailor exclaimed. "I didn't know they could talk."

"Haw-Haw can't talk very much," answered Rick. "But he whistles a lot. He whistles like I do, and—and you must have whistled like me or my crow once!" he went on, and fear began to come into his eyes. "You whistled like Haw-Haw and Ruddy went out and——"

"Yes, I know," said the sailor. "That's what I came back about."

"Do you mean about my dog—about Ruddy?" asked Rick and there was a catch in his voice. "Have you come back——"

"Yes, I came back about your dog," spoke the sailor.

"Are you—are you going to take him—away?" asked Rick in a low voice. He remembered how he had come to own Ruddy—the dog who had suddenly appeared out of the sea, after he had prayed one night. Now here was the sailor, looking as though he were going back to the sea, for, besides the parrot, he had a satchel. Was he going to take Ruddy to the ocean? That was the thought in Rick's mind.

And then the sailor smiled—he smiled in a way that, better than words could have done, told Rick everything was all right. And even Ruddy seemed to understand that matters were going well for him, as he thumped his tail on the ground. And that always is a sure sign with a dog—a sign that he is pleased, happy and knows that he is with his friends.

"Yes, I have come back, but not to take your dog away," said the ragged sailor. "He's your dog—he did belong to me once, but I know he'll be happier with you. I don't want him now."

"Don't you—really?" cried Rick.

"No, I'm not going to take him. That's what I came to tell you," went on the sailor. "I'm on my way back to go aboard a ship for a long sea voyage, but Ruddy isn't going with me."

"What is all this, Rick?" asked his mother, coming out to the sidewalk. She had heard voices, and had seen the ragged man, with the green bird on his shoulder, standing at the gate talking to Rick. And she remembered about the ragged sailor and the junk man. "What is all this?" she asked.

"I came back, lady," spoke the ragged sailor, taking off his hat and making a bow, "I came back to tell your boy he needn't worry any more about losing his dog. I am not going to try to get him back, though he once belonged to me. I have another mascot now. I have something else to bring me good luck. Here she is!" and he pointed to the green bird on his shoulder.

"Hip hurray! What ho! What ho! The stormy winds do blow! Do blow!" cried the parrot.

"You mean that you are not going to try to whistle Rick's dog away again?" asked Mrs. Dalton.

"That's it, yes, lady," answered the sailor, with another bow. "I did whistle the boy's dog away, and I'm sorry for it. You see the dog belonged to me, and he was washed overboard in a storm. After that I had nothing but bad luck. Maybe it was because I wasn't as good to Ruddy as I ought to have been.

"Anyhow when I found out where he was, from talking with some fish men, I made up my mind to have the dog back. So I sneaked around until I found him, and then I whistled for him. I'm a pretty good whistler. I can whistle like some birds. Listen!"

And then such shrill, trilling and sweet piping whistles came from the sailor's lips that Haw-Haw, the crow, tried to imitate them and answer, and Ruddy barked joyously, while Rick and his mother looked and listened with wonder.

"Say, but you can whistle!" cried Rick. "That was great!"

"Yes, I have a knack that way," said the sailor. "Well, after I took your dog away in the junk wagon I thought I was going to have good luck. But I didn't. We went to the old house near the swamp, and there I met another sailor. I wasn't good friends with him, for once I had played a mean trick on him. And, just to get even with me, I suppose, he went out in the night and cut loose the dog I had tied up."

"Oh, so that's how Ruddy got loose, was it?" asked Rick.

"That was it; yes," answered the ragged sailor. "At first I was mad at Jed Porter, but afterward I was glad. Then he and I got to be friends again, and he gave me this parrot."

"Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll!" shrieked the green bird.

"She always calls herself that when you mention her," went on the ragged sailor. "Well, as I say, after I had the parrot I began to think she would do me as a good luck mascot, instead of the dog, and she did. I began to do better right away. Now I have a chance to sail on a long voyage aboard a good ship, and I'm going to take Polly with me."

"Over the bounding waves, we sail, we sail, we sail!" shrilled the bird. "What ho! The stormy winds do blow!"

"Now please keep quiet a minute until I finish," called the sailor, shaking his finger close to the bird's beak. She opened it but did not bite.

"I've taught her not to," the sailor went on. "Well, as I was saying, when I had this parrot for a mascot I felt I didn't need the dog. So I stopped around to tell you not to worry any more. I'll never whistle him away again."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Rick. "Now you belong to me forever, Ruddy!" and he put his arms around the setter's neck.

"Yes, he's yours forever," said the sailor. "He was mine, but I give him to you. A dog that could get to shore after being blown overboard the way he was, is a good dog!"

"Yes, Ruddy is a good dog, and we all like him very much," said Mrs. Dalton.

"And I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble in taking him away," concluded the sailor, as he picked up his valise and was about to travel on.

"Oh, we had fun camping out, and I'm going to be a Boy Scout," said Rick. "And Ruddy's going to belong, too!"

"That'll be fine!" said the sailor. "Well, now having said all I'm going to, I'll haul up my anchor and get under way. Good-bye!" he added. "Good-bye to you, lady, and to you, boy and you, Ruddy, the red dog! I'll never trouble you again! I'm off on a long voyage!"

And with a wave of his cap toward Mrs. Dalton, he swung his valise up on one shoulder while, with the parrot perched on the other, he walked slowly down the street.

"Good-bye! Oh, my eye! Ho! Ho! The stormy winds do blow!" cried the green bird.

And that was the last Rick saw of the sailor and his parrot for a long time.

"But now you're mine, Ruddy! Mine forever!" cried the boy, and then he threw a stick far down the street and the setter raced after it.

Chot came out of his yard with Tom. The two boys saw the leaping dog.

"Ee-o, Ruddy! Ee-o!" they cried.

"Ee-o!" answered Rick. "Oh, fellows! Come here! I have such a lot to tell you!" he added.

And you may be sure Tom and Chot opened their eyes in wonder when they heard about the ragged sailor and his green parrot good-luck mascot.

"Well, I'm glad Ruddy is yours to keep, and that you don't have to worry about him being whistled away again," said Chot.

"So'm I," added Tom.

"Come on, now, we'll have some fun!" said Rick, and then boys and dog raced over the meadow toward Weed River.

This was the beginning of many happy days for Rick and Ruddy, and Haw-Haw, the tame crow, shared in them, for, having seen the parrot perched on the sailor's shoulder, Rick taught his black pet to do the same trick, and also some new whistles.

And on the bright and breezy days of spring and summer you might have seen Rick, Ruddy and Haw-Haw playing about in the fields, or near Silver Lake, whereon the white swans floated. But Ruddy never chased them, now, and so the setter did not have to flee in terror from the big birds. Ruddy had learned his lesson.

"Oh, but you are the best dog in the world, Ruddy!" said Rick, over and over again. "What good times we'll have!"

And they did have many adventures. If you would like to read more about the boy and his dog I may write another book. I think I shall call it "Rick and Ruddy in Camp," but, as for this volume, we have come to

THE END