rushing
about inside the room, and a chair fell over, and some one seemed to be getting
out of the window.
This made
me worse than ever. I did not stop to think that I was only a medium-sized dog,
and that Jenkins would probably kill me, if he got his hands on me. I was so
furious that I thought only of getting hold of him.
In the
midst of the noise that I made, there was a screaming and a rushing to and fro
upstairs. I ran up and down the hall, and halfway up the steps and back again.
I did not want Miss Laura to come down, but how was I to make her understand?
There she was, in her white gown, leaning over the railing, and holding back
her long hair, her face a picture of surprise and alarm.
“The dog
has gone mad,” screamed Miss Bessie. “Nurse, pour a pitcher of water on him.”
The nurse
was more sensible. She ran downstairs, her nightcap flying, and a blanket that
she had seized from her bed, trailing behind her. “There are thieves in the
house,” she shouted at the top of her voice, “and the dog has found it out.”
She did
not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one, crying, “Policeman!
Policeman! help, help, thieves, murder!”
Such a
screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was. I dashed by her,
out through the hall door, and away down to the gate, where I heard someone
running. I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and leaped the gate as the man
before me had done.
There was
something savage in me that night. I think it must have been the smell of
Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have never felt so wicked
since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and my mother, and the thought
gave me pleasure.
Old Jim
soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to let him know I
was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the corner caught up with
the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an
angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, and though it
was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me to see the ugly face
of my old master.
He seemed
so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He caught up a handful
of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us. Just then, away in front
of us, was a queer whistle, and then another one like it behind us. Jenkins
made a strange noise in his throat, and started to run down a side street, away
from the direction of the two whistles.
I was
afraid that he was going to get away, and though I could not hold him, I kept
springing up on him, and once I tripped him up. Oh, how furious he was! He
kicked me against the side of a wall, and gave me two or three hard blows with
a stick that he caught up, and kept throwing stones at me.
I would
not give in, though I could scarcely see him for the blood that was running
over my eyes. Old Jim got so angry whenever Jenkins touched me, that he ran up
behind and nipped his calves, to make him turn on him.
Soon
Jenkins came to a high wall, where he stopped, and with a hurried look behind,
began to climb over it. The wall was too high for me to jump. He was going to
escape. What shall I do? I barked as loudly as I could for someone to come, and
then sprang up and held him by the leg as he was getting over.
I had such
a grip, that I went over the wall with him, and left Jim on the other side.
Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up, and with a look of
deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help had not come, I think he
would have dashed out my brains against the wall, as he dashed out my poor
little brothers’ against the horse’s stall. But just then there was a running
sound. Two men came down the street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim
was leaping up and down and barking in distress.
I saw at
once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they were policemen.
In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave up then, but he stood
snarling at me like an
about inside the room, and a chair fell over, and some one seemed to be getting
out of the window.
This made
me worse than ever. I did not stop to think that I was only a medium-sized dog,
and that Jenkins would probably kill me, if he got his hands on me. I was so
furious that I thought only of getting hold of him.
In the
midst of the noise that I made, there was a screaming and a rushing to and fro
upstairs. I ran up and down the hall, and halfway up the steps and back again.
I did not want Miss Laura to come down, but how was I to make her understand?
There she was, in her white gown, leaning over the railing, and holding back
her long hair, her face a picture of surprise and alarm.
“The dog
has gone mad,” screamed Miss Bessie. “Nurse, pour a pitcher of water on him.”
The nurse
was more sensible. She ran downstairs, her nightcap flying, and a blanket that
she had seized from her bed, trailing behind her. “There are thieves in the
house,” she shouted at the top of her voice, “and the dog has found it out.”
She did
not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one, crying, “Policeman!
Policeman! help, help, thieves, murder!”
Such a
screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was. I dashed by her,
out through the hall door, and away down to the gate, where I heard someone
running. I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and leaped the gate as the man
before me had done.
There was
something savage in me that night. I think it must have been the smell of
Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have never felt so wicked
since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and my mother, and the thought
gave me pleasure.
Old Jim
soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to let him know I
was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the corner caught up with
the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an
angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, and though it
was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me to see the ugly face
of my old master.
He seemed
so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He caught up a handful
of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us. Just then, away in front
of us, was a queer whistle, and then another one like it behind us. Jenkins
made a strange noise in his throat, and started to run down a side street, away
from the direction of the two whistles.
I was
afraid that he was going to get away, and though I could not hold him, I kept
springing up on him, and once I tripped him up. Oh, how furious he was! He
kicked me against the side of a wall, and gave me two or three hard blows with
a stick that he caught up, and kept throwing stones at me.
I would
not give in, though I could scarcely see him for the blood that was running
over my eyes. Old Jim got so angry whenever Jenkins touched me, that he ran up
behind and nipped his calves, to make him turn on him.
Soon
Jenkins came to a high wall, where he stopped, and with a hurried look behind,
began to climb over it. The wall was too high for me to jump. He was going to
escape. What shall I do? I barked as loudly as I could for someone to come, and
then sprang up and held him by the leg as he was getting over.
I had such
a grip, that I went over the wall with him, and left Jim on the other side.
Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up, and with a look of
deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help had not come, I think he
would have dashed out my brains against the wall, as he dashed out my poor
little brothers’ against the horse’s stall. But just then there was a running
sound. Two men came down the street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim
was leaping up and down and barking in distress.
I saw at
once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they were policemen.
In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave up then, but he stood
snarling at me like an
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