Professor Petit was a good cook, and Willie found the dinner very tasty.
“You cook for your dogs,” he said, “as if they were kings.”
“My dear Willie,” replied the professor, “whatever a person does, he should do as well as he can. The greatest pleasure in life really, is in giving a good performance, whether it be an exhibit of skill before a distinguished audience or only a stew which one expects to share with his dog. Remember that, please. It is quite important.”
“Very well, Professor. I will try to remember.”
When they had finished eating and the dogs were lying, each one by itself, gnawing a bone, there came a rustle beyond the fire. It had grown dark now, and, looking up, Willie saw two eyes, like balls of fire, glowing with the reflection of the flame. At once the dogs began to growl, the hair along their backs rising in little ridges of anger. Willie thought of the tiger, but then he heard the professor saying to his dogs, “Be still, friends. It’s only Brutus, and you’re a match for him when your jackets are off.”
Professor Petit went to the cooling stew kettle and pulled out a bone, which he threw across the fire to the big gray dog.
“My poor Brutus,” he said, “you are hungry. We can do no less than be kind.”
Brutus seized the bone and ran away with it in the darkness. All of the highly trained dogs, except Sancho, returned to their own bones in peaceful quiet. But, for a long time, Sancho continued to growl. His eyes gleamed in the firelight, and his lips drew back from his white teeth in a snarl of disgust.
“It is better to forgive and forget, my good dog,” said the professor. “It is only the elephant who remembers his grievances long beyond their natural term.”
Sancho rose stiffly and came to his master’s side. He laid his head on Professor Petit’s knee, as if he would like to tell him something.
8
SANCHO IN TROUBLE
As Willie was going to school the next day, he met Farmer Olney driving into town in his two-wheeled cart.
“Don’t go to school today, Willie,” the farmer called, “because I shall need you to herd my cattle and sheep.”
“But what about Sancho?” Willie cried. “Isn’t he better than I am at herding sheep?”
“Alas!” said the farmer. “The fool I am to trust a dog alone with my sheep! Your fine little dog has killed two sheep and run the others nearly to death. I’ll have no more dogs for sheep herders, thank you!”
Willie came up beside the cart with Tip at his heels. “Oh, I can’t believe that Sancho would kill your sheep, sir!” he cried. “There’s some mistake, I’m sure.”
“Mistake, indeed!” said the farmer. “Do you think I am mistaken when I find two of my sheep lying dead in the pasture, with their throats bitten through? Half of their blood has been sucked by that miserable dog, and the rest is spilled on the sandy ground. As for the other sheep, their wool is full of burs, and they are tired out as if they had been run all over the pasture in wicked sport. I’ll tell you, your highly trained dog has been amusing himself very cruelly at my expense, Willie.”
“But, dear me!” Willie cried. “Sancho is the wisest and best of all the professor’s dogs.”
“Aye, he is wise enough,” said Farmer Olney, “but he’s also the sliest and the most wicked. Such a dog must not be allowed to live to go on killing sheep. As for the master, he must pay me well for the sheep I have lost or I’ll have him thrown into jail.”
“Poor Professor Petit!” said Willie. “Here’s more trouble for him!”
“Climb in,” said the farmer, “if you care to come along and see what happens.”
Willie climbed up into the farmer’s cart, and Tip was about to follow, but the farmer cried, “Be off with you! I’ll have no more to do with these highly trained dogs!”
“Tip,” said Willie, “go on to school, like a good boy. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
Tip sat down beside the road and watched the cart out of sight. His tail with the black tip drooped, and his ears hung down very sadly. But after a time he got up and shook himself, and started away in the direction of the school. It was hard for him to be sad very long, and presently his tail was waving again and he was stopping along the way to explore all the gopher holes, and sniff the delightful morning smells. When he arrived at school he was carrying in his mouth a long, pointed stick which Miss Charmian found very useful as a blackboard pointer.
“But when did this terrible thing occur?” asked Professor Petit. Willie could see that the professor was deeply troubled and confused.
“How should I be able to say when?” cried Mr. Olney angrily. “It is not a matter of when but what. All I know is that your fine dog did not bring all of my sheep home last night. At first I didn’t see that two were missing. Then later, when I made the count and went into the fields to hunt, I found my two good sheep lying dead in their blood. What am I to suppose? Why, it’s plain as the nose on your face that this dog of yours has killed them for his sport.”
“I can’t believe it,” Professor Petit said sadly. He shook his head, repeating, “I cannot believe it!”
Willie noticed that all of the dogs, except Sancho, had gone to their daily work. Sancho still sat by the ashes of the breakfast fire, his tail drooping and his dark eyes sad.
“Look at him!” cried the farmer. “Guilt is written all over him! A hang-dog look, if ever I saw one. He must be put out of the way before he does any more damage.”
“No!” cried the professor. “He has been in some kind of trouble, I’ll admit. But I’m sure he is innocent of any evil. If only he could tell us! If only he could speak!”
“How are you, my friend?” said Sancho in a dejected voice.
Farmer Olney nearly jumped out of his skin. But the very next moment he was angrier than ever.
“The devil’s in him!” he cried. “Who ever heard an honest dog use words? It’s wicked and unnatural! He must be killed at once.”
By this time a small crowd had begun to assemble.
“It’s unnatural! It’s wicked!” the townspeople said. “The dog must be killed.”
“I’ve sent for the policeman,” said Mr. Olney. “But first, Professor, I’ll give you the opportunity of paying me ten dollars apiece for my two dead sheep and another five dollars for the mental anguish I have suffered.”
“Twenty-five dollars!” Professor Petit said. “Then you must give me a little time, Mr. Olney. For where in the world can I find so much money all at once?”
“No,” said the farmer, “I’ll give you no time. You are a traveling showman and all you need do is pack up your caravan and drive away to be rid of your debts. You must pay me today or go to jail.”
In vain Professor Petit and Willie tried to explain that an honest showman would always pay his honest debts. Farmer Olney was not a bad man, but, like all of the serious people of Puddling Center, he believed that where money was concerned, no one could be trusted.
The upshot of it all was that the Puddling Center policeman arrived and agreed to take Professor Petit and his dog to jail until they could be tried and sentenced.
“Well, take me if you must,” Professor Petit said. “But leave my poor dog free. Jail is no place for a dog.”
“What! Leave that dog free to roam the countryside and kill more sheep!” cried the farmer. “Why, he’s the very one we want in jail. The dog must be killed, I say.”
Willie followed along with the crowd as the professor and his highly trained dog were led away to prison. The boy’s heart was sad, for he felt that the showman and his dogs were the best friends he had in this very serious town. And he could not bear to think of Sancho losing his life.
At the door of the prison Professor Petit turned to Willie and held out his hand. There were tears in his eyes, and his brisk and cheerful manner had deserted him.
“Willie,” he said, “I beg you to look after the four remaining dogs and the pony whilst I am away. They will not understand what has happened and you mus
t comfort them.”
“I’ll be proud to do everything I can,” Willie said, “and you must not worry.”
“Of course,” said the professor, “I could sell the caravan or the pony or one of the dogs to raise the money, but that would break my heart. But the first thing is to prove my poor dog’s innocence. How I shall do it, I do not know. Help me if you can, Willie! Help me!”
“Hurry up now,” said the policeman. “In you go, and no more palavering!”
“I will try, Professor,” Willie called, as the heavy door of jail closed behind master and dog.
Little sunny towns very seldom have prisons. But Puddling Center was a serious town, and it had built a large and serious prison. As a matter of fact, the cells were usually unoccupied; so now the jailer, the policeman, and the serious citizens were delighted to find someone to lock up at last. They put Professor Petit and Sancho in a small room with a barred window high up in the prison.
“He is so high up that he cannot be reached by his friends,” said the jailer. “The only way he could get out would be to saw through the iron bars and let himself down by two or three bedsheets knotted together. But, as he has neither saw nor bedsheets, I believe that he will be quite safe.”
9
HOSKINS MAKES AN OFFER
Willie went back to the caravan, and tethered the roan pony in a fresh spot where there was plenty of clover to eat. He washed the pots and pans at the edge of the river, and then he tidied the inside of the caravan. All of the time he kept thinking to himself: What next? Without Professor Petit’s wise counsel, how shall I know what is best to do? Shall I try to give shows to raise money? But the dogs would probably not go through their tricks for me, and anyhow who would come to see them with Hoskins’s tiger in town? It’s all very difficult.
When the dogs came home from work, they ran all around the caravan sniffing and searching for their master. Willie had built up the fire and put on a kettle of bones to simmer.
“Come, friends,” he said to the dogs, “your master is in trouble, and we must help him, but I don’t know how to make you understand.”
The three working dogs, with Tip, who had just arrived from school, came and stood around Willie, wagging their tails and gazing expectantly into his face. Willie could see that they wanted very much to be helpful and agreeable, but that they did not understand what was required of them. It is hard to be a dog, Willie thought. A dog is full of love and goodwill, but he does not have a language!
As if they had read his mind, the dogs all began to bark at him.
“Yes, yes,” said Willie, laughing, “you do have a language of your own, don’t you? And probably you are sorry for me because I can’t understand you. Sancho is the only one who understands a little of both languages. But Sancho is not here.”
At the sound of Sancho’s name, Prince ran to the caravan and came dragging out the box that contained Sancho’s alphabet. He pulled the box in front of Willie, and then he stepped back and barked as if he expected Willie to produce Sancho.
Sadly Willie put the box away again, and gave the dogs their supper.
As they were eating, Willie heard a familiar growl, and he saw the hair rising along the backs of Professor Petit’s dogs. Looking around, he saw that Hulk Hoskins and Brutus were coming across the square toward them. Hoskins had Brutus on a leash, but Willie knew how easily the leash could be slipped off, and he began to be alarmed.
I must not let the dogs see that I am frightened, he thought, and to the dogs he said, “Steady now, friends. Don’t fight, unless he starts it.”
The dogs stood at attention, stiff-legged and alert, sniffing the air and ready for anything. But Hulk Hoskins appeared to be in a friendly mood tonight. His teeth flashed in a wide white smile.
“I hear that Professor Petit and one of his dogs have gone to prison for their evil deeds,” said Hulk Hoskins in a winning voice. He jingled the money in his pocket, and Willie knew that he must have a great deal of it, for the performance that afternoon had been as well attended as the one on the previous day. “I am sorry for Professor Petit,” continued Mr. Hoskins, “but what can a sinful man expect? The law is bound to catch up with him sooner or later.”
“But Professor Petit is not a sinful man,” cried Willie. “He’s one of the best I’ve ever known.”
“Ah, well,” said Mr. Hoskins, still smiling very broadly. “Then let us say that he has trained a sinful dog. But, as I say, I’m sorry for him. I understand that he needs money to pay for the damage his dog has done. Now I am willing to take over his caravan, his pony, and the four dogs that remain after the sinful one has been executed. I will add them, unimportant as they are, to my stupendous and colossal show, and at the same time I will be so generous and kind-hearted as to settle Professor Petit’s debts for him and get him out of prison. Thus, he can start out once again, a free man, and, we hope, a more honest one.”
“You mean—?” cried Willie. “You mean to say—?”
“Exactly,” said Hulk Hoskins. His white teeth still flashed, but Willie had the impression of a snarl rather than a smile. “I will buy Professor Petit’s show for the price of his debts. What could be fairer?”
“Oh, no!” said Willie. “There must be some better way than that. His debts are only twenty-five dollars, and his highly trained dogs are worth a great deal more than that.”
“But who will pay it?” asked Hulk Hoskins. “Who would have any use for a show except another showman? Have you thought of that?”
“Oh,” said Willie, “I’m sure he could sell Prince to the baker, Liddy to the miller, and Grushenka to the weaver, if the worst came to the worst.”
“And separate them?” said Hulk Hoskins. “Wouldn’t that be a pity now?”
“Yes, it would,” said Willie. “But we still have one hope.”
“And what is that?”
“That we may prove Sancho innocent.”
“Ha! Ha!” laughed Hulk Hoskins. “Pardon me, if I seem to laugh.”
As they were talking, Willie noticed that Brutus had settled down beside his master and was trying to remove a bur from his back just above his tail. He twisted this way and that, but he could not quite reach the bur, either with his teeth or with his hind paws.
“Well,” said Mr. Hoskins, “there is my offer, made out of the kindness of my heart, for the good of all concerned. Think it over and let me know. Come along, Brutus.”
But Brutus was intent on his bur and paid no attention until Hulk Hoskins roared at him and struck him with the end of the leash.
“That will teach you!” the showman cried. “Come along now!”
Brutus jumped up with a yelp and followed his master.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Willie said, running along beside them. “The poor dog’s got a bur in his back.” The boy leaned over and pulled the bur off the dog’s back. It came out of the short hair easily. Willie was surprised to see that, instead of growling, Brutus wagged his tail.
Brutus and Hulk Hoskins returned to the striped tent, and Willie went slowly back to the campfire with the bur still in his hand. After Hulk Hoskins had gone into his tent, Willie heard the tiger begin to roar. It occurred to him that the tiger had not roared at all while Hulk Hoskins was out of his tent. But Willie did not waste much time thinking about the tiger.
The highly trained dogs crowded around Willie, wagging their tails and eager to be praised for their good behavior.
Absentmindedly Willie gave each one a friendly pat. He kept feeling the prickle of the bur that he held in his hand. He remembered how Sancho’s shaggy coat had been full of burs last night. Brutus had short hair and burs would not easily stick to it. Yet one had been stuck there where he could not pull it off. Had the two dogs been to the same place?
“I wonder?” Willie said to himself.
The highly trained dogs were all watching him, as if to ask what next.
Liddy stood on her hind legs and put her front paws against Willie’s knee. Tip roll
ed over three times, and Prince and Grushenka bounded away and then returned, as if they wanted Willie to go somewhere with them.
“You are right,” Willie said. “We must try to see and speak with Professor Petit. Although he can’t get out of prison, perhaps he can advise us what to do.”
Professor Petit looked sadly out of his prison window and saw Willie and the four highly trained dogs below him. The dogs all barked with delight and wagged their tails at sight of their master. Sancho came to the window and stood on his hind legs with his paws on the windowsill. He poked his nose through the bars and barked back at his comrades.
“Well, Professor,” said Willie politely, “how goes it?”
“Not too badly,” said the professor. “I have had time to think, and Sancho has had time to rest and regain his cheerful spirits. Is there any news?”
“Yes,” said Willie. “Hulk Hoskins offers to pay your debts for you, but in return he expects to take the caravan, the pony, and these four dogs and add them to his show.”
“Ah!” said Professor Petit. “But that must never happen, Willie. Never!”
“I know,” said Willie. “We must get out of our troubles in some better way than that.”
“First of all,” said Professor Petit, “I want to prove that Sancho did not do this wicked thing. If he could only speak!”
“How are you, my friend?” said Sancho happily.
“He does not know what is in store for him, poor dog! There is only one slender hope,” continued the professor. “Bring me Sancho’s alphabet box, Willie, and we shall see if he can spell out something for us. There is scarcely one chance in ten thousand that he will be able to tell us anything, but it is worth taking that one chance.”
10
SANCHO’S ALPHABET
When Professor Petit had spoken, the four free dogs began to leap about Willie and beg him to hurry. They dashed along beside him to help carry out their master’s orders. When they saw that Willie was taking Sancho’s alphabet box from the caravan, they came to the conclusion that a show was about to be given. Liddy pulled out her ladder and Tip helped her to drag it along. Prince pulled out the basket in which he carried Liddy during a performance. Grushenka ran here and there hunting for her ball. Unfortunately the ball was packed away with the costumes and she could not find it. However, in a corner of the caravan she found the ball of rope which Professor Petit stretched across between the ladders for Liddy to walk on. It rolled almost as well as a ball, and Grushenka caught it up in her mouth and trotted away after Willie and the other dogs.
The Highly Trained Dogs of Professor Petit (Nancy Pearl's Book Crush Rediscoveries) Page 5