Then she grew grave, puzzled. She trusted Black Bart with all her
heart, as only a child can trust dumb animals, but now she sensed a change
in him. She had guessed at a difference on that night when Dan came home
for the last time; and the same thing seemed to be in the dog today.
Before she could make up her mind as to what it might be, Black Bart swung
aside up a steep slope, and whisked her into the gloom of a cave. Into the
very heart of the darkness he glided and stopped.
"Daddy Dan!" she called.
A faint echo, after a moment, came back to her from the depths of the cave,
making her voice strangely deep. Otherwise, there was no answer.
"Bart!" she whispered, suddenly frightened by the last murmur of that echo,
"Daddy Dan's not here. Go back!"
She tugged at his ear to turn him, but again that jerk of the head freed
his ear. He caught her by the cloak, crouched close to the floor, and she
found herself all at once sitting on the gravelly floor of the cave with
Bart facing her.
"Bad Bart!" she said, scrambling to her feet.
"Naughty dog!"
She was still afraid to raise her voice in that awful silence, and in the
dark.
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