After which Lad tried to tell the Mistress the story of the battle.
Very weakly, but very persistently he "talked." His tones dropped now and then to the shadow of a ferocious growl as he related his exploits and then scaled again to a puppy-like whimper.
He had done a grand day's work, had Lad, and he wanted applause. He had suffered much and he was still in racking pain, and he wanted sympathy and petting. Presently he fell asleep.
It was two weeks before Lad could stand upright, and two more before he could go out of doors unhelped. Then on a warm, early spring morning, the vet' declared him out of all danger.
Very thin was the invalid, very shaky, snow-white of muzzle and with the air of an old, old man whose too-fragile body is sustained only by a regal dignity. But he was _alive_.
Slowly he marched from his piano cave toward the open front door.
Wolf--in black disgrace for the past month--chanced to be crossing the living-room toward the veranda at the same time. The two dogs reached the door-way simultaneously.
Very respectfully, almost cringingly, Wolf stood aside for Lad to pass out.
His sire walked by with never a look. But his step was all at once stronger and springier, and he held his splendid head high.
For Lad knew he was still king!
THE END.