The Ghost of Popcorn Hill by Betty Ren Wright Page B

it won’t do any good. We don’t have room for a dog this size. And we certainly can’t afford to feed him.” He was smiling, but there was a note in his voice that warned the boys not to argue.
    They walked on, past a little brown-and-white spotted dog with a twisty tail, and a long, low mop of a dog that lay fast asleep.
    â€œNext one’s part Labrador,” the caretaker said. “A real beauty!”
    â€œWow!” Peter breathed. The gleaming black dog was as big as a pony.
    â€œDon’t even ask,” Mr. Tracy said.
    The caretaker patted Peter’s head. “Wait’ll you see what we have in the last pen,” he said cheerfully. “You’ll love her.”
    The dog in the last pen was black too, with lots of white patches. Her feathery tail swept back and forth, and she pressed her freckled nose against the netting.
    â€œShe’s a honey,” the caretaker told them. He looked from Martin to Peter. “She’s only about ten months old—just right for training.” Then he turned to Mr. Tracy. “Won’t get much bigger than she is right now.”
    Nobody spoke. The caretaker opened the door and let the dog out into the aisle. She danced around Martin and Peter with excited little barks.
    â€œWhat do you say, boys?” their father asked. “She looks as if she’d be happy to join the family.”
    Martin and Peter crouched. The dog licked their faces. Then she sat in front of them and cocked her head.
    â€œI call her Rosie,” the caretaker said. “My daughter Rose has freckles like that. Of course, you could call her anything you wanted.”
    Martin and Peter and Rosie looked at each other. She’s a nice enough little dog , Martin thought. He knew Peter was thinking the same thing. And if they didn’t take this dog, they weren’t going to get one.

    â€œHey, Rosie,” Martin said. “Do you want a ride in a truck?”
    Rosie leaped into the air like a missile. She jumped on Martin and then on Peter, knocking him over. Her body trembled with excitement.
    â€œI think you’ve got a dog,” the caretaker said with a grin. He led the way back to the office, and the Tracys followed with Rosie bouncing beside them.
    â€œGood girl,” Martin told her. She really was a nice dog. He and Peter took turns petting her as they walked. They were careful not to look into the pens where the black Labrador and the silver German shepherd were still waiting for someone to claim them.

CHAPTER FOUR
    A Surprise Visitor
    Mrs. Tracy loved Rosie the minute she saw her. She gave the boys her old bathrobe to make a cozy bed next to the stove.
    â€œI’ll feel so much better having a dog in the house,” she said. “In case those prowlers come back again.”
    That afternoon Martin and Peter tied a rope to Rosie’s collar and took her for a walk around the hilltop. She sniffed every tree and peered under bushes, but mostly she ran along next to the boys and jumped on them.
    â€œShe likes us,” Martin said.
    Peter didn’t answer.
    â€œWe can teach her lots of tricks,” Martin added. “She’s smart.”
    â€œThat German shepherd dog was smarter,” Peter said. “I could tell.”
    When they returned to the cabin, they rolled a ball back and forth across the kitchen for Rosie to chase.
    â€œI’d say she’s great at chasing and pretty terrible at bringing back,” their father commented. He was getting ready to go to town again for his four-nights-a-week job at the supermarket.
    â€œShe’s good at chewing, too.” Mrs. Tracy held up a letter that had fallen on the floor. It was ripped almost in two. “We’ll have to be careful.”
    After supper the boys carried a bag of garbage out to the pit at the end of the lot. Then they sat on a big rock and looked down at the apple orchard at the foot of the hill. Beyond it they could see the