All was still, save here and there the sharp, distant bark of a
dog.
"I wonder which way they went?" he asked, looking down at us.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE POLICE DOG
Dillon pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew a short blast
sharply. Far down the road, we could hear faintly an answering
bark. It came nearer.
"They're taught to obey a police whistle and nothing else,"
remarked Dillon, with satisfaction. "I wonder which one of the
dogs that was. By the way, just keep out of sight as much as you
can--get back up in our car. They are trained to worry anyone who
hasn't a uniform. I'll take this dog in charge. I hope it's
Cherry. She ought to be around here, if the men obeyed my orders.
The others aren't keen on a scent even when it is fresh, but
Cherry is a dandy and I had the man bring her up purposely."
We got back into our car and waited impatiently. Across the hills
now and then we could catch the sounds of dogs scouting around
here and there. It seemed as if every dog in the valley had been
aroused.
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