weak little puppy cry came from under the porch. Another puppy, that was what
it meant, and Joseph was very much out of patience, for the trench had been
filled up and the foundation-stones carefully replaced.

"Rudolph ought to have made sure how many there were," he said rather
growlily.

"But, Joseph, this puppy cry comes from another place way over here, it seems
to me," and Tattine ran to a spot on the porch several yards from that under
which the others had been found. "I believe it must have been a cleverer
little puppy than the others, and crawled away by itself to see what the world
was like, and that is why Rudolph missed finding it."

Joseph put his hand to his ear and, listening carefully, concluded that
Tattine was right. "Now I'll tell you what I am going to do," he said; "I can
make just a little hole, large enough for a puppy to get through, without
taking out a foundation-stone, and I'm going to make it here, near where the
cry seems to come from. Then I am going to tie Betsy to this pillar of the
porch, and I believe she'll have sense enough to try and coax the little
fellow out, and if the is such an enterprising little chap as you think he'll
have sense enough to come out."

It seemed a good plan. Betsy was brought, and Tattine sat down to listen and
watch. Betsy, hearing the little cries, began at once to coax, giving little
sharp barks at regular intervals, and trying to make the hole larger with her
paws.

Tattine's ears, which were dear little shells of ears to look at, and very
sharp little ears to hear with, thought the cries sounded a little nearer, and
now a little nearer; then she was sure of it, and Betsy and she, both growing