The Treasure Hunt by Rebecca Martin Page A

dog.”
    Father nodded and got his hat and coat. Already the snow had stopped, and the sun was shining. What a dazzling world! The drab brown prairie had been transformed into a winter wonderland.
    Lydia didn’t spend much time enjoying the scenery, though. She had to see that dog. For years she had wished to have one. Now, maybe her wish was coming true!
    The dog’s coat was black—a dull and patchy black. The moment she saw him, Lydia felt sure that his fur had once been gleaming and thought she could probably get it to gleam again.
    The dog raised his head when he saw Lydia. His tail thumped three times on the hay. Then his head went down again, and the tail lay still. Lydia knelt beside him, murmuring, “You poor dog. You’re all worn out and probably hungry. Just look at your ribs sticking out.”
    Father stood looking down at the two. “Shall I bring him some milk?”
    â€œPlease!” By this time Lydia was stroking the dog’s head. The dog gave a little sigh, as if to say, Now I’ve found someone who likes me .

    Lydia fed the poor, tired dog a bowl of milk.
    When Father brought the milk, Lydia shoved the bowl right under the dog’s black nose. How eagerly he slurped it up! As though the milk had given him strength already, he staggered to his feet. After a few seconds, though, he flopped down again.
    â€œI have to go,” Lydia told the dog reluctantly. “Will you bring him some more milk at noon, Father?”
    Father smiled. “I guess I could.”
    With wings on her feet, Lydia hurried to school. She could hardly wait to tell the other girls about her dog. They were suitably impressed and asked all sorts of questions. Lydia didn’t know all the answers, but one thing she did know was that the dog’s name would be Storm Dog because the snowstorm had brought him.
    Apparently Joe told the boys about the dog too. During the lunch hour, Anton Higgins teased Lydia about the tramp she was taking in. Israel chimed in with a taunt about girls who didn’t know a dog from a coyote.
    Lydia flounced away from the big boys without saying a word, even though she felt like telling Anton, “That dog’s a lot nicer than you are!”
    Actually Anton had been behaving pretty well for the last little while. For weeks he had kept doing little things to make life miserable for the teacher, but Miss Price never backed down. Firmly and consistently she punished him when he did wrong—just as she did with any of the students. With Anton it had finally paid off. Though he would never be a model student, he had learned a lot. The funny thing was that anybody could see that deep down he really did like his teacher.

    By the next day, a warm chinook wind blew down from Pikes Peak. The snow melted fast and turned the fields into mud. Torrents of brown water ran down to the creek.
    â€œI wonder what the creek looks like!” Joe said to Lydia on their walk home from school. “Maybe it’ll overflow the banks. I’m going to have a look.”
    Lydia wasn’t interested. “I have to see how Stormy’s doing.” Already she had shortened the dog’s name to Stormy. She turned in at the barn even before going to change her clothes.
    Joe changed in record time. Grabbing a cookie, he told Mother that he wanted to check out the creek before chore time. “I’m wondering if Willie’s den is flooded,” he explained.
    Mud sucked at his boots as he crossed the fields. By the time he reached the creek bank, his boots had grown to twice their normal size.
    When he saw the stream, Joe forgot about his boots. Was this the same quiet, meandering creek where he’d spent hours panning for gold? Wild and brown, the current tore down between the banks as if it couldn’t wait to reach the river. The water was nearly halfway up the bank!
    After locating Willie’s chimney, Joe carefully let himself down the bank while hanging