There is no red clay that I know of round here, and there are miles of it this side of the Delaware camp." "What is the matter with Tige ?" asked Betty.
"He is done for.

Shot through, poor fellow.

How did he ever reach home ?" said Silas.
"Oh, I hope not! Dear old Tige," said Betty as she knelt and tenderly placed the head of the dog in her lap.

"Why, what is this?
I never put that there.

Eb, Jack, look here.