Flower of the Dusk

by Myrtle Reed

  XVIII

  The Passing of Fido

  [Sidenote: Alone in the Office]

  Fido had been in the office alone for almost three hours. The old man,who he knew was his master, and the young man, who was inclined to beimpatient with him when he felt playful, had both gone out. The door waslocked and there was nobody on the other side of it to answer a vigorousscratch or even a pleading whine. When people knocked, they went awayagain, almost immediately.

  The window-sills were too high for a little dog to reach, and there wasno chair near. He walked restlessly around the office, stopping atintervals to sit down and thoughtfully contemplate his feet, which weremuch too large for the rest of him. He chased a fly that tickled hisear, but it eluded him, and now buzzed temptingly on a window-pane, outof his reach.

  It seemed that something serious must have happened, for Fido had neverbeen left alone so long before. If he had known that the old man wasconversing pleasantly with some fellow-citizens at the grocery store,and that the young one had his arm around a laughing girl in white,trying to teach her to walk, he would have been very indignant indeed.

  Several times, lately, Fido had noticed, the young man had gone outshortly after the old one went to the post-office. It would be, usually,half a day later when his master returned with a letter or two, or oftenwith none. The young man took pains to get back before the old one did,which was well, for there should always be someone in a lawyer's officeto receive clients and keep dogs from being lonely.

  [Sidenote: Pangs of Hunger]

  The pangs of a devastating hunger assailed Fido, which was not strange,for it was long past the hour when the old man usually took a bulkyparcel out of his desk, spread a newspaper upon the floor, and bade Fidoeat of cold potatoes, meat, and bread. There was, nearly always, a nice,juicy bone to beguile the tedium of the afternoon. Fido and the old manseldom went home to supper before half past five, and Fido would havebeen famished were it not for the comfort of the bone.

  He sniffed around the larger of the two desks. A tempting odour camefrom a drawer far above. He stood on his hind legs and reached up as faras he could, but the drawer was closed. So was every other drawer in theoffice, except one, and that was in the young man's desk. Probablythere was nothing in it for a hungry dog--there never had been.

  [Sidenote: The Little Red Box]

  Still, it might be well to investigate. Fido laboriously climbed up onthe chair and put his paws upon the edge of the open drawer. There wasnothing in it but papers and a small, square, red box with a rubber bandaround it.

  Fido took the box in his mouth and jumped down. He pushed it with pawsand nose over to his own particular corner, sniffing appreciativelymeanwhile. It took much vigorous chewing to get the rubber band off andto make a hole in one corner of the box, out of which rolled a greatnumber of small, cylindrical objects. They were not like anything Fidohad ever eaten before, but hungry little dogs must take what they canfind. So he gulped them all down but one. This one refused to beswallowed and Fido quickly repented of his rashness, for it wasdistinctly not good. He ate the rubber band and all but a little pieceof the red box before the taste was quite gone out of his mouth. Eventhen, a drink of fresh, cool water would have been very acceptable, butthere was nobody to care whether a little dog died of thirst or not.

  The bluebottle fly buzzed loudly upon the window-pane, but Fido nolonger aspired to him. A vast weariness took the place of his formerrestlessness. He sat and blinked at his ill-assorted feet for sometime, then dragged himself lazily toward his cushion in the corner.Before he reached it, he was so very sleepy that he lay down upon thefloor. In less than five minutes, he was off to the canine dreamland,one paw still caressingly laid over the fragments of the little red box.

  * * * * *

  [Sidenote: The Judge Returns]

  When the Judge came in, an hour later, he was much surprised to find theoffice locked and the cards of three valued clients on the floor underthe door. There had been four, but Fido had eaten the first one. Two ofthem were marked with the hour of the call. It indicated, plainly, to alogical mind, that Roger had left the office soon after he did, and hadnot returned. It was very strange.

  Fido slumbered on, though hitherto the sound of his master's step wouldawaken him to noisy and affectionate demonstrations. The Judge turnedFido over with a friendly foot, but there was no answer save a wideyawn. He brought the parcel of bread and meat and opened it, leaving iton the floor close by. Then he took a chicken bone and held it to thesleeper's nose, but Fido turned away as though from an annoying fly.

  As the dog had never before failed to take immediate interest in achicken bone, the Judge was alarmed. He picked up the fragments of thelittle red box and wondered if anyone could have poisoned his pet. Hebrought fresh water, but Fido, hitherto possessed of an unquenchablethirst, failed to respond.

  When Roger came in, belated and breathless, he found his explanationscoldly received. Whether or not Barbara North ever walked was evidentlya matter of no particular concern to the Judge. It was also of noimmediate importance that clients had come and found the office empty,even though one of them, presumably, had intended to settle an accountof long standing. The vital question was simply this: what was thematter with Fido?

  Roger did not know. Though Fido's disdain of food and drink might beabnormal, his position on the floor and his deep breathing were quitenatural.

  [Sidenote: An Inquiry]

  Then the fragments of the little red box were presented to Roger, andinquiry made as to the contents. Also, had Roger tried to poison theJudge's pet?

  Roger had not. The box had contained a prescription for lumbago whichDoctor Conrad had given his mother. It was in the drawer in his desk. Hemight possibly have left the drawer open--probably had, as the box wasgone.

  The Judge was deeply desirous of knowing why Mrs. Austin's lumbago cureshould be kept in the office, within reach of unwary pets. Afterconsiderable hesitation, Roger explained.

  The owner of Fido was highly incensed. First, he condemned the entireprocedure as "criminal carelessness," setting forth his argument inunparliamentary language. Then, remembering that Roger had not reallyloved Fido, he brought forth an unworthy motive, and accused the haplessyoung man of murderous intent.

  [Sidenote: The Judge Commands]

  Roger would kindly borrow the miniature express waggon which was theprized possession of the postmaster's small son, place the cushion init, with its precious burden, and convey Fido, with all possibletenderness, to his other and larger cushion in the Judge's own bedroom.He would take the cold chicken, too, please, for if Fido ever wantedanything again in this world, it would probably be chicken.

  The Judge would follow as soon as he had written to his clients andexpressed his regret that his clerk's numerous social duties did notpermit of his giving much time to his business. And, the Judge added, asan afterthought, if Fido should die, it would not be necessary for Rogerto return to the office. He wanted someone who could be trusted not topoison his dog while he was out.

  Roger was too much disturbed to be conscious of the ludicrous aspect hepresented to the public eye as he went down the main thoroughfare ofRiverdale, dragging the small cart which contained the slumbering Fidoand his cushion. He did not even hear the pointed comments made by theyoung of both sexes whom he encountered on his interminable walk, andforgot to thank the postmaster for the loan of the cart when he returnedit, empty save for a fragment of cold chicken and a faint, doggy smell.

  [Sidenote: On the Beach]

  For obvious reasons, he could not go to the office and he did not liketo take his disturbing mood to Barbara. Besides, his mother, who now hadlong wakeful periods in the daytime, might see him and ask unpleasantquestions. He went down to the beach, yearning for solitude, and settledhimself in the shelter of a sand dune to meditate upon the unhappyevents of the day.

  He did not realise that the sand dune belonged to Eloise, and that shewas wont to sit there with D
octor Conrad, out of the wind, and safelyscreened from the argus-eyed rocking-chairs on the veranda. He was sopreoccupied that he did not even hear the sound of their voices as theyapproached. Turning the corner quickly, they almost stumbled over him.

  "Upon my word," cried Eloise. "Sir Knight of the Dolorous Countenance,what has gone wrong?"

  "Nothing," answered Roger, miserably.

  "Anybody dead?" queried Allan, lazily stretching himself upon the sand.

  "Not yet, but somebody is dying."

  "Who?" demanded Eloise. "Barbara, or your mother? Who is it?"

  "Fido," said Roger hopelessly, staring out to sea.

  Allan laughed, but Eloise returned, kindly: "I didn't know you had adog. I'm sorry."

  "He isn't mine," explained Roger; "I only wish he were. If he had been,"he added, viciously, "he'd have died a violent death long ago."

  [Sidenote: Miss Wynne's Plans]

  Little by little, the whole story came out. Allan kept his face straightwith difficulty, but Eloise was genuinely distressed. "Don't worry," shesaid, sympathetically. "If Fido dies and the Judge won't take you back,I can probably find an opening for you in town. Your office work willpay your expenses, so you can go to law school in the evenings and beready for your examinations in the Spring."

  "Oh, Miss Wynne," cried Roger. "How good you are! I don't wonder Barbaracalls you her Fairy Godmother."

  "Barbara is coming to town to spend the Winter with me," Eloise went on,happily. "She's never had a good time and I'm going to give her one. Assoon as she's strong enough, and can walk well, I'm going to take her,bag and baggage. It's all I'm waiting here for."

  In a twinkling, Roger's despair was changed to something entirelydifferent. "Oh," he cried, "I do hope Fido will die. Do you think thereis any chance?" he asked, eagerly, of Allan.

  "I should think, from what you tell me," remarked Allan, judicially,"that Fido was nearly through with his earthly troubles. A dose of thatsize might easily keep any of us from worrying any longer about theprice of meat and next month's rent."

  "Mother won't like it," said Roger, soberly. "She may not be willing forme to go."

  "She should be," returned Allan, "as you've saved her life at theexpense of Fido's. When I go up to see Barbara this afternoon, I'll stopin and tell her."

  [Sidenote: Unexpected Call]

  Miss Mattie was awake, but yawning, when he knocked at her door. "Therewasn't no call for you to come," she said, inhospitably; "the medicineain't used up yet."

  "Let me see the box, please."

  She shuffled off to the kitchen cupboard and brought it to him. Therewere half a dozen flour-filled capsules in it. Allan observed that thedruggist, in writing the directions on the cover, had failed to add thelast two words.

  "Idiot," he said, under his breath. "I wrote, 'Take two every four hoursuntil relieved.'"

  "I was relieved," explained Miss Mattie, "and I've had fine sleep eversince. It's wore off considerable in the last three days, though."

  Allan then told her, in vivid and powerful language, how the druggist'serror might have had very serious results, had it not been for Roger'spresence of mind in substituting the flour-filled capsules for the"searching medicine." He was surprised to find that Miss Mattie wasungrateful, and that she violently resented the imposition.

  [Sidenote: Notion of Economy]

  "Roger's just like his pa," she said, with the dull red rising in hercheeks. "He never had no notion of economy. When I'm takin' a dollar andtwenty cents' worth of medicine, to keep it from bein' wasted, Rogergoes and puts flour into the covers of it, and feeds the expensivemedicine to Judge Bascom's Fido. He thinks more of that dog than he doesof his sick mother."

  "My dear Mrs. Austin," said Allan, solemnly, "have you not heard thenews?"

  "What news?" she demanded, bristling.

  "Little Fido is dying. He took all the medicine and has been asleep eversince. By morning, he will be dead."

  Miss Mattie's jaw dropped. "Would you mind tellin' me," she asked,suspiciously, "why you took it on yourself to give me medicine thatwould pizen a dog? I might have took it all at once, to save it. OnceI was minded to."

  "Roger saved your life," said Allan, endeavouring to make his toneserious. "And because of it, he is about to lose his position. The Judgeis so disturbed over Fido's approaching dissolution that he has toldRoger never to come back any more. Unless we can find him a place intown, he has sacrificed his whole future to save his mother's life."

  "Where is Roger?"

  "I left him down on the beach, with Miss Wynne. I suppose he is stillthere."

  "When you see him," commanded Miss Mattie, with some asperity, "will youkindly send him home? It's no time for him to be gallivantin' aroundwith girls, when his mother's been so near death."

  "I will," Allan assured her, reaching for his hat. "I hope youappreciate what he has done for you."

  [Sidenote: The Doctor Laughs]

  When he went down the road, his shoulders were shaking suspiciously.Miss Mattie was watching him through the lace curtains that glorifiedthe parlour windows. "Seems as if he had St. Vitus's dance," she mused."Wonder why he doesn't mix up some dog-pizen, and cure himself?"

  When he was sure that he was out of sight, Allan sat down on aconvenient boulder at the side of the road, and gave himself up tounrestrained mirth. The medicine which was about to prove fatal to Fidowould have caused only prolonged sleep if taken in small doses, atproper intervals, by an adult. "It's a wonder she didn't take 'em all atonce," he thought. "And if she had--" He speculated, idly, upon theprobable effect.

  His conscience pricked him slightly on account of the exaggeration inwhich he had mischievously indulged, but he told himself that Rogerwould be far better off in the city and his mother's consent would makehis going much less difficult. He also realised that if Roger were thereto amuse Barbara, Eloise might have more spare time than she wouldotherwise.

  He stopped long enough to give the druggist a bad quarter of an hour,and then went back to the beach. Eloise and Roger were where he had leftthem, and the boy's gloom was entirely gone.

  "Your mother wants you," he said, as he sat down on the other side ofEloise.

  "All right--I'll go right up. How did she take it?"

  "Very well. Just remember that you've saved her life, and you'll have notrouble."

  [Sidenote: Light-Hearted]

  When Roger went up the street, he was whistling, from sheerlight-heartedness. Eloise had made so many plans for his future that hesaw fame and fortune already within his reach.

  When he knocked, never having been allowed the freedom of a latch key,he noted that all the blinds in the house were closed and wonderedwhether his mother had gone to sleep again. After a suitable interval,she opened the door, clad in her best black silk, and portentouslysolemn.

  "Why, Mother, what's the matter?"

  "Come in," she whispered. "Doctor Conrad has just been tellin' me hownear I come to death. Oh, my son," she cried, throwing her arms aroundhis neck, "you have saved my life."

  [Sidenote: Two Greetings]

  It seemed to Roger like a paragraph torn from _The Metropolitan Weekly_,but he patted her back soothingly as she clung to him. Maternaloutbursts of this sort were extremely rare. He remembered only one othergreeting like this--the day he had been swimming in the river with threeother small boys and had been brought home in a blanket, half drowned.

  "I suppose I shouldn't regret takin' dog-pizen, if it cured my back andgive me the sleep I needed, but it was a dreadful narrow escape. Andyour takin' the medicine away from me and feedin' it to Fido wascertainly clever, Roger. Every day you remind me more and more of yourpa."

  "Thank you," answered Roger. He was struggling with various emotions andfound speech almost impossible.

  "It's no more'n right," she resumed, "that, after having pizened Fidoand lost you your place, that Doctor Conrad should stir himself aroundand get you a better place in the city, but I do hate to have you go,Roger. It'll be dreadfu
l lonesome for me."

  "Cheer up, Mother; I haven't gone yet. The dog may get well."

  Miss Mattie shook her head sadly. "No, he won't," she sighed. "I tookenough of that medicine to know how powerful it is, and Fido ain't gotno chance. To-morrow I'll look over your things."

  An atmosphere of solemnity pervaded the house, and the evening was spentvery quietly. Miss Mattie read her Bible, as on Sunday evenings when shedid not go to church, and sternly refused to open _The Housewife'sCompanion_, which lay temptingly near her.

  [Sidenote: Nightmare]

  She went to bed early, and Roger soon followed her, having strangelylost his desire to read, and not daring to go to see Barbara more thanonce a day. His night was made hideous by visions of himself drawing thecart containing the slumbering Fido into the church where Eloise andDoctor Conrad were being married, while Judge Bascom at the house, wasconducting Miss Mattie's funeral.

  In the morning, after breakfast, Roger seriously debated whether or nothe should go down to the office. At last he tossed up a coin andmuttered a faint imprecation as he picked it up.

  With his hat firmly on and his hands in his pockets, Roger fared forth,whistling determinedly. He did not want to go to the office, and hedreaded, exceedingly, his next meeting with the irascible Judge.

  As it happened, it was not necessary for him to go, for, at the cornerof the street which led to the Judge's house, he met the postmaster'ssmall son, laboriously dragging the fateful cart of yesterday. In itwere all of Roger's books and other belongings, including an umbrellawhich he had loaned to the Judge on a rainy night and expected never tosee again.

  [Sidenote: A Brief Message]

  The message was brief and very much to the point. Fido had diedpainlessly at four o'clock that morning.