Whatever the limitations of Bart's rather
uncanny intelligence, upon one point he was usually letter-perfect, and
even when a stranger mentioned Dan in the hearing of the dog it usually
brought a whine or at least an anxious look. He hewed to his line now with
that animal sense of direction which men can never wholly understand.
Boulders and trees slipped away on either side of Joan; now on a descent of
the mountain-side he broke into a lope that set the flowers fluttering on
her bonnet; now he prowled up the ravine beyond, utterly tireless.
He was strictly business. When she slipped a little from her place as he
veered around a rock he did not slow up, as usual, that she might regain
her seat, but switched his head back with a growl that warned her into
position. That surprise was hardly out of her mind when she saw a gay patch
of wild-flowers a little from the line of his direction, and she tugged at
his ear to swing him towards it. A sharp jerk of his head tossed her hand
aside, and again she caught the glint of wild eyes as he looked back at
her.
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