CHAPTER IV
A BREAK FOR LIBERTY
The little ragamuffin addressed by Frank raised his dirt-creased,tear-stained face pathetically. He looked at his questioner for a momentand then went on crying harder than ever.
“Well,” said Frank, “this is a queer go. Come, little son, brace up andtell what is the matter with you. Who is Fido--a dog?”
“Sure. He’s in there, he’s been in there for two days now, and I cannotget him out.”
“There appears to be a good many dogs in there, judging from theracket,” said Frank. “What kind of a place is this, anyhow?”
“It’s the pound,” explained the urchin. “Belongs to Riverton, but SileStoggs runs it. Know Stoggs?”
“I don’t,” answered Frank.
“He’s a brute--Oh, what a brute!” cried the little fellow. “Was aconstable--the mean kind. Turned a poor woman out of her house in thecold last winter. She died, and her two big brothers met Stoggs onedark night and nearly kicked the life out of him. He had to give upbusiness, for they crippled him.”
“Go ahead,” encouraged Frank.
“He had some pol--politicattle friends, I think they call it. One ofthem was a sharp lawyer. He raked up a lot of old ord--ordinants.”
“Ordinances, I suppose you mean?” suggested Frank.
“Yes, sir, that sounds more like it,--anyway, village laws, see? Theysaid Riverton should have a pound. They worked it so that Stoggs got thejob of poundmaster. The town pays him a big rent for these old barracks.Used to be a trotting park. He drives around in a little dog cart, andpicks up all the stray horses and cows he can catch. Then the ownershave to pay two dollars to get them out of the pound. Stoggs gets half.Wish that was Stogg,” and the boy kicked a dirt clump so hard that hestubbed his toe and winced.
“And what about the dogs?” asked Frank.
“That’s a new wrinkle. About a month ago Stoggs’ lawyer fished upanother old law about dog license, or tax, or something of that kind.Since then he’s been capturing all the dogs he could find for milesaround. It wouldn’t matter, if he was kind to them,” went on the lad,“but he isn’t. He starves them. He beats them, too awfully. And you’dought to see the dirty old water trough where he makes them drink.Mother is poor. We can’t pay any two dollars to get Fido out. But I comehere every day and bring all the meat I can gather up, and feed the poorthings. The trouble is, though, there is so many of them in there, andthey are so hungry, and poor Fido is so small, he hardly ever gets anibble. There’s a grand, big dog in there looks out for him when he can,and divides a bone with him, but the rough dogs get most of the food.”
“Have you tried to get this Stoggs to let you have Fido back?” inquiredFrank.
“Yes, but he only abused me, laughed at me, and drove me away. Yesterdayhe caught me trying to dig that board loose near the boulders. He kickedme, and struck me twice with his club. Wish I had a shovel. It would besafe to dig a bit now. A big balloon went over here a little while ago.I saw Stoggs in his cart driving over to the hill to get a better sightof it.”
“H’m,” mused Frank. “Quite an interesting situation. I’ll take a lookinside there, I guess. Hey, hello, why--Christmas!”
Frank, in mingled pleasure and astonishment, fairly shouted out thisname. The minute he had mounted the boulders and peered in through thecrack in the fence, he made out his own missing canine among a motleygroup of over forty dogs.
Slam! came an instantaneous bound against the fence that made it quiverand creak. Slam--slam! right up to the spot where Frank had uttered thename, Christmas sprang repeatedly. He was mad with joy and excitement atrecognizing his young master’s voice.
Frank was now quite as much stirred up as his youthful companion. Hehad to call to Christmas to reassure and quiet the animal. The dog wastearing at the fence barrier in such a frenzied manner that Frank fearedhe would severely injure himself.
“How did Christmas ever get this far away from home?” he reflected,getting off the boulders and onto the ground again. “Say, if that Stoggshas gone deliberately out of his territory and caught him at Greenville,I’ll get the boys to come here and tar and feather him. Easy, oldfellow,” called Frank to Christmas, who, yelping frantically, couldstill be heard throwing himself against the boards of the fence.
“My goodness!” shouted Frank’s companion, suddenly. “Look at that, now.”
His eyes goggled as a great snap sounded out.
“The mischief!” exclaimed Frank. “This won’t do.”
Christmas, it seemed, had flung his body with terrific force against thevery plank where the owner of Fido had been digging. Its ground end wassoaked and rotted by the damp earth that had surrounded it. It gave,vibrating, and Christmas forced his head and shoulders through theaperture. He wriggled and howled, for the board closed on him like awedge. Then, making a desperate lunge, the dog bore the board outwards.There was a sharp snap. Obliquely the timber ripped four feet up itslength.
Bursting the slivered section fully apart, Christmas, with a joyoushowl, sprang free. He bounded upon his master in frantic delight, withsuch impetuosity that he bore Frank flat to the ground.
“Here, behave, old fellow. Well, I’m glad, too,” said Frank. “Formercy’s sake!”
With difficulty restraining the wild caresses of his loyal dumb friend,Frank regained his feet to stare about him in consternation.
Christmas had blazed the way to freedom, and a vast concourse wasfollowing his lead. It was like bees pouring out from a bee hive.Through the break in the fence there came bounding what seemed to be anendless procession. There were big dogs and little dogs, mastiffs, foxterriers and collies. One magnificent St. Bernard got wedged in thefence break. Those behind fairly pushed him through, letting loose astream of canines like corn from a spout.
Out bounded the released animals, fairly crazy with delight at findingtheir freedom. Nearly all of them instantly made for a near ditchfilled with clear water. They lapped it up luxuriously, they rolled andwallowed in the pure, cool element. Then, like diverging spokes from onecentral source, they streaked it homewards as instinct told them theirproper compass point.
The little ragged urchin Frank found seated on the ground, fondling andcrying over the tiniest, silken-haired poodle he had ever seen. Its ownaffectionate antics were fairly affecting. Beside the pair, limpingon three legs, a forlorn little fox-terrier looked homelessly andfriendlessly longing, as if begging for a share of attention.
“Yes, I’ll take you, too!” cried the ragged youngster, putting Fidounder one arm and gathering up the crippled canine in the other. “Say,”he shouted to Frank, “you’re a brick! Oh, but you’ve done a good day’swork. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Only, get now--don’t wait. IfStoggs catches us, he’ll send us to jail for life. Why,” continued theurchin with a start, staring hard at Christmas, “is that your dog?”
“It is,” nodded Frank.
The little fellow stooped and deliberately kissed Christmas, his eyesfull of grateful tears, purring out fond terms of endearment.
“You’re two grand fellows!” he blubbered. “That’s the dog that was sucha good friend to Fido,” and Fido, whimpering, struck out his head andrubbed noses with Christmas, who frolicked around all hands as if somegreat jubilee was going on.
“Yes, I fancy we had better be moving on,” said Frank, with a glanceinto the enclosure to find it entirely deserted by its recent inmates.
“About your dog, though,” said his companion, hurriedly. “I can tell yousomething about him.”
“Can you, indeed?” asked Frank.
“Yes, sir. I was here the day a man drove up in a gig from Riverton-waywith your dog.”
“In a gig?” repeated Frank, pricking up his ears.
“Yes, I was hanging around near the house at the front of the pound. Theman called Stoggs out. He had your dog tied behind the axle. He made abargain with Stoggs for five dollars to get rid of the animal--send himaway somewhere. He was a man with reddish side-whis
kers and a cast inone eye.”
Frank’s own good eyes flamed. He drew his breath with an angry catch init.
“Dorsett,” he said. “The villain did it, eh? I wondered how poorChristmas came to be cooped up here, so far away from home. The meansneak! He did it so he could snoop around the house and spy on uswithout interruption. Going? Good-bye. I hope you will keep Fido safeand sound from the dogcatchers this time.”
“You bet I will,” cried the little fellow, bolting off with his doublecanine burden. “And you’re a brick!”
Frank turned his face in the direction of home. He soon got out of sightof the pound with no indication of his having been seen or pursued.Christmas bounded over the fresh turf, cutting up all kinds of anticsand barking joyously.
When they reached the flats Frank secured his rubber boots and was soonin the midst of the morass. Christmas led the way, making grand fun ofleaps and dousings, and they reached the woods beyond with no mishap.
Frank drew his bicycle from the spot where he had hidden it, securedhis rubber boots to the machine, and was speedily threading the path hehad traversed in the opposite direction earlier in the day.
Passing down a gentle declivity in an open space, Christmas set up asudden bark. Frank turned, to observe the dog halted and looking aloft.
“Hello!” exclaimed Frank, also glancing skywards. “That must be theballoon the little fellow at the pound was telling about.”
The balloon was about two miles distant, and was instantly obscured fromview by some tall trees.
Frank had kept on going without looking ahead. The momentary distractionhad its result.
Too late he turned the handle bars of the bicycle and set the brake.
Bump! the machine struck a jagged tree stump, and Frank Newton took aheader.
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