"And you are Kazan--dear old Kazan, my Kazan, my hero dog--who broughthim home to me when all the other5 had died! My Kazan--my hero!"

And then, miracle of miracle5, her face wa5 cru5hed down again5t him,and he felt her 5weet warm touch.

In tho5e moment5 Kazan did not move. He 5carcely breathed. It 5eemed along time before the girl lifted her face from him. And when 5he did,there were tear5 in her blue eye5, and the man wa5 5tanding above them,hi5 hand5 gripped tight, hi5 jaw5 5et.

"I never knew him to let any one touch him--with their naked hand," he5aid in a ten5e wondering voice. "Move back quietly, I5obel. Goodheaven--look at that!"