Evening Star Newspaper, January 14, 1923, Page 75

Two Thieves, One Brute and | the Other Human, Furnish R Action and Some Thrills T began with a gap in a line fence. The gap should never have been there. For on the far side of it roamed creatures whose chief it roamed creatures whose chief Zest in life is the finding of such ®aps and breaking through the for- age. The Place's acreage ended, to northward, in the center of an osk sTove whose northern half was owned by one Titus Romaine, a crabbed lit- tle farmer of the old school. Into his half of the grove, In autumn when mast lay thick and rich amid the tawny dead leaves, Romaine was wont to turn his herd of swine. To Lad, the giant collle, this was always a trying season. For longer than he could remember Lad had been the officlal watchdog of the Place. And his chief duties were to keop two-footed and four-footed strays from trespassing thereon. To an inch he knew the boundaries of the master’s land. And he knew that no human intruder was to be mo-| lested, so long as such intruder had the sense to walk straight down the driveway to the house. But woe 1o the tramp or other trespasser who chanced to come crosslots or to wander in any way off the drive! ‘Woe also to such occasional cattle or other livestock as drifted in from the road or by way of a casual fence- gap! Human invaders were to be met in | drastic fashion. Quadruped trespass- | ers were to be rounded up and swept at a gallop up the drive and out into the highroad. With cattle or with stray horses this was an easy job; and 1t contained withal much fun— at least, for Lad. But pigs were different Experience and instinct had taught Tad what few humans realize, name- 1y, that of all created beasts the pig is the worst and meanecst and most viclous and hardest to drive. When & horse or a cow, or a drove of them, wandered Into the confines of the| Place, It was simple and joyous to | head them off, turn them, set them | into a gallop and send them on their Journey ut top speed It took little | *=kill and e trouble to do this. Re- sides, it was gorgeous sport. But| nigs——! | * % % %k i ‘ HEN porker wriggled and | hunched and nosed a space in | the line fence, and slithered greasily through, Lad's work was cut out for! him. It looked simple enough. But it was not simple nor was it safe. ! In the first Instance, pigs were hard | to start running. Oftener than not they would stand, braced, and glare &t the onicoming collie from out thelr | evil lttle red-rimmed eyes, the snouts above the hideous masked tushes quivering avidly. That meant Lad must circle them at whirlwind speed, | barking & thunderous fanfsre to con- fuse them, and, watching his chance, | to flash in and nip ear or flank, or| otherwise get the brutes to running. | And even on the run they had an | ugly way of wheeling, at close quar- | ters, to face the pursuer. The razor | tushes and the pronged forefest were | always ready at such times to wreak | death on the dog, unless he should have tho wit and the skill and the | speed to change, In a breath, the di- rection of his dash. No, pigs were not pleasant trespassers. Thers was no fun in routing them. And there was real danger. Except by dint of swiftness and of brain, an eighty-pound collle has no chance against a 600-pound pig. The Dig’s hide, for one thing, is too thiek to plerce with an average slash or nip. The pig is too close to earth| and too well balanced by bulld and weight to be overturned. And the| tushes and forefeet can move with deceptive quickness. Also. back of the red-rimmed little cyes fijckers the redder spirit of murder. Locomotive engineers say a cow on & track is far less perilous to an on- coming train than is a pig. The for- mer can be lifted by the impact and flung to one slde. A pig, oftener than not. derails the engine. Standing with the bulk of its weight close to the ground, it is well-nigh as bad an obstruction to trains as would be a boulder of the same size. Tad had never met any engineers But he had Identically their opinion of pigs. | In all his long life the great collle | had never known fear. At least, he never had yielded to it. Wherefore, in the autumns, he had attacked with #ay zest such of Titus Romaine's swine as had found their way through the fence. But nowadays there was little enough of gay zest about anything Laddie did. For he was old—very, very old. He had passed the fifteenth milestone. In other words, he was as old for a dog as Is an octogenarian for a man. dignant annoyance, age had crept up on the big dog; gradually blurring his long clean lines; silvering his muzzle and eyebrows; flecking his burnished mahogany coat with stip- ples of sliver; spreading to greater size the absurdly white little fore- | paws which were his one gross van- | ity; dulling a little the preterngtural- ly keen hearing and narrowing the | vision. Yes, Lad was old. And he was a bit unwieldy from welght and from age. No longer could he lead Wolf and Bruce in the forest rabbit chases ‘Wherefore, he stayed at home, for the most part; and seldom strayed far| from the mistress and the master whom | he worshiped. { Moreover, he deputed the bulk of | tresspass-repelling to his flery little son, Wolf; and to the graver and sweeter Bruce—"Bruce, the Beauti- ful.” ‘Which brings us by needfully prosy degrees to a morning when two : rauders came to the Place at the same working around the roots of some young fruit trees. But for the maids, busy indoors, the Place was deserted of human or canine life. Thus, luck was with the two in- truders. Through the fence-gap in the oak grove bored Titus Romaine's hugest and oldest and crankiest sow. She was in search of acorns and of any other food that might lle handy to her line of march. In her owner's part of the grove there was too much competition in f*he food hunt from other and equally greedy pigs of the herd. These she could fight off and drive from the cholcest acorn hoards. But it was easler to forage without competition. So through the gap she forced her grunting bulk, and on through the Place's half of the oak grove. Paus- ing now and then to root amid the strewn leaves, she made her lefsurely way toward the open lawn with its two-hundred-year-old shade oaks and its flower borders which still held a few toothsome bulbs. * K K % HE second intruder entered the grounds in much more open fash- fon. He was a man In the lat twenties; well set up, neatly, even sprucely dressed; and he walked with a slight swagger. He looked very much at home and very certaln of his welcome. A casual student of human nature would have guessed him to be a traveling salesman, with nerve and with confidence in his own goods. The average servant would have been vastly impressed with his air of self assurance and would have admitted him to the house without question. (The long mem- orled warden of Auburn prison would | have recognized him as Alf Dugan, one of the oleverest automobile thieves In the east) Mr. Dugan was an industrious young man as well as ingenious. And he had a streak of quick-witted au- dacity which made him an ornament | to his chosen profession. His method of work was simple. Coming to a rural neighborhood he would stop at some local hotel and, armed with clever patter and a sheaf of auto- mobile Insurance documents, would make the rounds of tho region's bet- ter-class homes. At these he sold no automoblile in- | surance, though he made seemingly earnest efforts to do so. But he learned the precise location of each garage, the cars therein, and th oastest way to the high road, and any possible obstacles to a hasty flight thereto. Usually he succeeded in per- suading his reluctan host to take him to the garage to look at the cars and to estimate the Insurance value of each. While there it was easy to palm a key or get a good look at the garage padlock for future skeleten-key reference; or to note what sort of car locks were used. A night or two later the garage | was entered and the best car was stolen. Dugan, like love, laughed at cksmiths. Sometimes—notably in places where dogs were kept—he would make his initial vistt and then, choosing a time when he had seen some of the housc's occupants go for a walk with their dogs, would enter by broad daylight and take a chance at getting the car out unobserved. If he were inter- rupted before starting off In the ma- chine—why, he was that same polite Insurance agent who had come back to revise his estimate on the pre- mium needoed for the car, and was taking another look at it to make certain. Once in the driver's seat and with the engine golng, he had no fear of time, If by different routes. They could not well have come at a more propitious time for themselves, nor at & worse time for those whose domain they visited. H finely equipped | * ok ok RUCE and Wolf had trotted idly off @@ the forest back of the Place for & desultory ramble in quest of rabbits or squirrels. This they had done because they were bored. For the mistress and the master had driven over for the morning mall, mnd Lad had gone with them as usual. Had it been night instead of morning, neither Wolf nor Bruce would ‘have stirred a step from the grounds. For both were trained watchdogs. But thus early in the day nelther duty nor companionship held them at home, And the gutumn woods prom- ised & half-hour of mild sport. The superintendent and his help- Jors were in the distant “upper field,” capture. A whizsing rush to the high road and down it to the point where his confederate waited with the new number plates, and he could snap his fat fingers at pursuit. Dugan had called at the place a week earlier. He had taken inter- ested bote of the little garage's two cars and its unlocked doors. He had taken less approving note of the three guardian collles: Lad, gtill magnifi- cent and formidable in spite of his welght of years; Bruce, gloriously beautiful and stately and aloof; young Wolf, with the fire and flerce agllity of a tiger cat. All three had THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C. watched him grimly. None had of- fered the slightest move to make friends with the smooth-spoken vist- tor. Dogs have a queerly occult sixth sense, sometimes, in regard to those who mean {ll to their masters. R R HIS morning, idling along the highroad, a furlong from the Place's stone gateway, Dugen had seen the Mistress and the Master drive past in the smaller of the two cars. He had seen Lad with them. A little later he had seen the men cross the road toward the upper field. Then, almost on the men's heels, he had seen Bruce and Wolf canter across the same road, headed for the forest. And Dugan's correct- |1y atolid face rippled into a pleased smile. Quickening his pace he hurried oy to the gateway and down the drive. | But as he passed the house on his | way to the garage avhere stood the | other and larger car he paused. Out! of an ever-vigilant eye corner he saw |an automobile turn in at the gate- | way 200 yards up the wooded slope and start down the drive. The Mistress and the Master were eturning from the postoffice. Dugan® smile vanished. He stopped in his tracks and did some tast think- ing. Then mounting the veranda | steps, he knocked boldly at a side| door—the door nearest to him. As| the malds were in the kitchen or| | making up the bedrooms, his knock | went unanswered. Half hidden by the veranda vines, he waited. The car came down the driveway | and circled the house, to the side! farthest from Dugan. There, at the | front door, it halted. The Mistress and Lad got out. The Master did not go down to the garage. he ecircled the house again and | chugged off up the drive, bound for the statlon to meet a guest whose | train was due in another ten minute; | Dugan drew a long breath and| |swaggerad toward the garage. His walk and manner had in them an | easy openness that no honest man's| {could possibly have acquired in a| | 11tetime. i | The mistress, deposited at the front |veranda. chirped to Lad and started |across the lawn toward the chrysan- | themum bed, a hundred feet awa; The summer's flowers were gone— even to the latest thin-stemmed Teb- 11tz rose and the last stalk of roso- tinted cosmos. For dining table now and for living room and guest rooms | othing was left but the mauve and bronze hardy chrysanthemums which | made gay the flower border at the | crest of the lawn overlooking the lake, Thither fared the Mistrcss in search of blossoms. Between her and the chrysanthe- mum border was a bed of cannas.| Frost had smitten thelr taii, dark | foliage, leaving only a copse of| brown stalks. Out of this copse, ! chewing greedily at an uprooted bunch of canna bulbs, sloughed Ro- maine's wandering sow. At sight of the Mistress she paused in her leis- |urely progress and, with the bunch | of bulbs stil] hanging from one cor- | ner of her shark mouth, stood blink- | {ing truculently at the astonished | | woman. | Now Lad had not obeyed the Mis- | tress's soft chirp. It had not reached his dulling ears—the ears which, of | old, had caught her faintest whisper. Yet he would have followed her, as | ever, without such summons, had not his nostrils suddenly become aware of an all ent. 144's sense of smell ltke his hear- | |ing was far less keen than once it| |nad been. But it was still strong | enough to register the trace of in- {truders. His hackles bristied. Up THE AUTUMN WOODS PROMISED A HALF HOUR OF MILD SPORT. | went the classically splendid head, jto eniff the light breese, for further information as to the reek of plg and the lighter but more disquieting scent of man. ‘Turning his head to reinforce with his nearsighted eyes the failing evi- dence of his nostrils, he saw the sow emerge from the canna-clump. He saw, ‘too—or he divined—the look in her pale little red-rimmed eyes, as they glared deflantly at the Mistress. and Lad cleared the porch steps at onie long leap. For the instance, he fergot he was aged and stout and that his joints Instead, |~ | ishing this, and crying | hide. Tho impact bowled him clean over, | ached at any sudden motion; and that his wind and his heart were not what they had been; and that his once-ter- rible fangs were yellowed and blunt; and that his primal strength was for- ever fled. Peril was facing the Mis- tress. That was all Laddie knew or cared. With his wonted trumpet-bark of challenge he sped toward her. L HE mistress, recovering from her surprise at the apparition of the huge pig. noticed the bunch of canna-bulbs dangling from the slob- bery lips. This very week all the bulbs were to have been dug up and taken into the greenhouse for the winter. Angered—with all & true THE SOW'S FLAMIN! one side, the sow charging after him. he had lost all interest in attacking the mistress. Her flaming little brain now held no thought except to kill and mangle the dog that had hurt her snout 80 cruelly. And she rushed at him, the tushes glinting from under her upcurled and bleeding lips. But the collle, for all his vears and unwieldiness, was still a collie. And, by the time he stopped rolling, he was scrambling to his feet. Shrinking quickly to one side, as the sow hore down upon him, he eluded her rush by the narrowest of margins and, snapping furiously, caught her by the ear. Now, more than once, in other frays, | JANUARY 14, ‘1923—PART 5. THE INTRU belabored the sow with all her frail muscular might. She might as well have been beating the side of a con- crete wall. Heedless of the flailing, the sow ignored her and .continued her maddened assault on Lad. The maids, attracted by the noise, crowded the front doorway, clinging together and jabbering. To them the mistress called now for the master’s shotgun, from the study wall, and for a handful of shells. , She kept her head, though she saw |she was powerless to save the dog she loved. And her soul was sick within her at his perll which her puny efforts could not avert. Running across the lawn, toward 1 > LITTLE BRAIN NOW HELD NO THOUGHT EXCEFT TO MANGLE THE DOG. fower-lover's indignation—at this| Lad had subdued and scared trespass- ' the house, she met halfway the mdid desecrating of one of her beloved had been used as a roi hoo!” very the sow. The latter did not stir, except to lower her bristling head an inch or {ing plgs by t hold. | bone. | drunk with the lust of killing. | The sow squealed afresh with pain, and once more braced herself and | plants, she caught up a stick which | days his teeth had been keen and hia|gun and two shells. prop. Brand- | jaw strong encugh to crack a beef ping to glance at the cartridges—or Moreover, the plgs on which he | to realize that they were filled with valiantly Indeed, she advanced upon | had used {t to such effect wero not | No. 8 shot, for quails—she thrust two | But in those | who came trembling forth with the Without stop- of them into the breech, and, turning fired pointblank at the sow. Lad was down again, and the sow so, and let drop the bunch of bulbs |shook her head with all her might.| _no longer on a squealing rush, but from between her razor-teeth. The | Again Lad was flung aside by that|with a new cold deadliness—was Mistress advanced another step and |shake, this time with a fragment of | gauging the distance to his exposed struck at the beast. The sow veered, to avoid the blow; then, with Judicrous yet deadly swift- ness, wheeled back and charged stralght for the woman. Many a child and not a few grown men and women have gone down un- der such murderous charges; to be trampled and gouged and torn to death, before help could come. touch the hem of the Mistress' dress. Between her and the sow flashed a swirl of mahogany-and-snow. Lad, charging at full speed, crashed into the forward weight of solid flesh and inch-thick knocking the breath out of him. Not from cholce had he made such a blundering and uncolllelike attack. In other days he could have flashed in and out agaln with the speed of 1ight, leaving his antagonist with a slashed tace or even a broken leg as souvenir of his assault. But those days were past. His uncannily wise brain and | his daunltless courage were all that, remained of his ancient prowess. And this brain and pluck told him his one chance of checking the sow's charge on the mistress was to hurl himself full at her. His impetus, which had knocked him flat, scarce slowed down the pig’s lurching rush; scarce enabled the frightened mistress to recoil a step. Then the sow was lunging at her agaln over the prostrate dog’s body. But, even as he fell, Lad had gather- ed his fect under him. And the shock which knocked him breathless did not make the wise brain waver in its plan 1 of campalgn. Before he sought to rise, up drove his bared teeth at the sow | that was plunging across him. And those teeth clove deep into her pink- ish nostrile—wellnigh the only vul- nerable spot (as Lad knew) in her bristling pigskin armor. Lad got his grip. And with all his tragile old strength he hung on, grinding the outworn fangs farther and farther into the sensitive nose of his squealing foe. This stopped the sow's impetuous charge for good and all. With a heavy collle hanging to one's tortured nose and that collie’s teeth sunk deep into it, there is no scope for thinking of any other opponent. She halted, striking furiously with her sharp cloven forehoofs at the writhing dog beneath her. One feroclously driving hoof cut a gash in Lad’s chest. Another tore the skin from his shoulder. Unheeding, he hung on. The sow braced herself, solld, on outspread legs, and shook her head and forequarters with all her muscular might. * ¥ k% AD was hurled tree, his weakened jaws falling to withstand such a vank. Over and over he roiled, to 4 But | the foul jaws did not so much as| lurching six-hundred- | | torn ear between his teeth. | As she drove at him | Lad swerved and darted in, diving | for her forelegs. With the collie, |as with the ancester, the wolf, this dive for the leg of an enemy is a |favorite and tremendously effective trick in battle. Lad found his hold, | Just above the right pastern. And he exerted every atom of his power to break the bone or to sever the tendon. In all the Bible's myriad tragic line there is perhaps none other so Infl nitely sad—less for its actual signifi- | cance than for what it implies to once more, or late—than that which describes | the shorn Samson going forth in jaunty confidence to meet the Phil- | istines he ro often and so easily had conquered “He wis. not that the Lord was de- parted from him | To all of us, to whom the doubtful | blessing of old age is granted, must | come the black time when we shall | essay a task which once we could ac- | complish with ease—only to find its achlevement has passed forever be- { yond our waning powers. And so, this | day, was it with Sunnybank Lad. | Ot yore, such a grip as he now se- lcured would have hamstrung or | otherwise maimed its victims and left | | her wallowing helpless. But the dull | teeth merely barked the leg’s tough [skin. And a spasmodic jerk ripped it loose from the dog's hold. | Lad barely had time to spring aside, to dodge the wheeling sow. He was ; panting heavily. His wounds wero { hurting and weakening him. His wind | was gone. His heart was doing queer things which made him sick and dizzy. His strength was turning to water. His courage alone blazed high and undimmed. Not once did it occur to him to seck safety in flight. Ie must have known the probable outcome. KFor Lad knew much. But the great heart did not flinch at the prospect. Feebly, yet dauntlessly, he came back to the hopeless battle, The mistress was in danger. And he alone could help. No longer able to avoid the rushes he met some of them with patheti- cally useless jaws; going down under others and rising with ever gréater slowness and difficulty. The sow's ravening teeth found a goal, more than once, in the burnished mahog- any coat which the mistress brushed every day with such loving care. The pronged hoofs had twice more cut him as he strove to roll aside from heavy tumbles. L HE end of the fight seemed very near. Yet Lad fought on. To the attack, after each upset or wound, he crawled with deathless courage. The mistress, at Lad's first charge, had stepped back. But at once she had caught up again the stick and every man or woman or animal, seon | | with deliberate width. | | | throat. The first shot peppered her shoulder; the tiny pellets scarce scratching the tough hide. The mistress had halted to fire. Now she ran forward. With the muzzle not three feet from the sow's head, | she pulled the trigger again. The pig's huge jaws had opened One forefoot was pinning the helplessly battling dog to earth, while she made ready to tear ouf his throat. The second shot whizzed about her head and face. Two or three of the pellets entered the open mouth. With a sound that was.neither grunt nor howl, yet which savored of both, the sow lurched back from the flash and roar and the anguishing pain in her tender mouth. The mis- tress whirled aloft the empty and useless gun and brought it crashing down on the pig's skull. The carved mahogany stock broke in two. The jar of impact knocked the weapon from its wielder's numbed fingers. The sow seemed scarce to netice the blow. She continued backing away and champed her jaws as if to ‘locate the cause of the agony in her mouth. Her eyes wore inflamed and dazed by the flash of the gun. “The mistress took advantage of the moment's breathing space to bend over the staggeringly rising Lad; and catch- ing him by the ruff, to urge him toward the house. For once, the big collle re- fused to obey. He knew pig nature bet- ter than did she. And he knew the sow was not yet finished with the battle. He strove to break free from the loved grasp and to stagger back to his ad- versary. 5 The mistress, by main strength, drew him, snarling and protesting, toward the safety of the house. Panting, bleeding, recling, pitiably weak, yet he resisted the tender urging, and kept twisting his bloddy head back for a glimpse of his foe. Nor was the precaution useless. For, before the mistress and her wounded dogg were half way across the remaining strip of lawn, the sow recovered enough of her deflected wits and fury to lower her head and gallop down after them. At her first step, Lad, by a stupendous effort, wrenched free from the mistress’ clasp, and flung himself between' her and the charging*mass of pork. But as he did o, he found breath for a trum- pet bark that sounded more like a rally- ing cry. For, dulled as were his cars, they were otill keener than any human's And they had caught the sound of eight fiy- ing paws amid the dead leaves of the drive. Wolf and Bruce, coming home at a leisurely trot from thelr ramble in she forest, had heard the two reports of the shotgun, and had broken Into a run. They read the meaning in Lad's ex- hausted bark as clearly a3 humans might read a printed word. And it lent wings to their feet. | welght forward ERS ROUND the corner of the house tore the two returning oollies. In a single glance, they seemed to take In the whole grisly scene. They, t00, had had thelr bouts with maratd- ing swine; and they were stlll young enough to enjoy such clashes and to par- take of them without danger. The sow, too blind with pain and rage to know reinforcements were coming to the ald of the half dead hero, tore for- ward. The mistress, with both hands, sought to drag Lad behind her. The malde screeched in chorus. Then, just as the sow was launching herself on the futilely snapping Lad, she was stupidly aware that the dog had somehow changed to three dogs. One of these three the mistress was still holding. The two others, with excellent teamwork, were assalling the sow from opposite sides. She came to a sliding stop in her charge, blinking in bewildered fury. Bruce had caught her by the torn left ear, and was keeping easily out of her way, while he inflicted torture thereon. Wolf, ltke & furry whiriwind, had stopped only long enough to slash her bleeding nose to the bone, and now was tearing her hind leg in an industrious and very promising effort to hamstring her. In front, Lad was still stralning {to break the mistress’ loving hold, and to get at his pestered enemy. This was more than the huge porker had bargained for. Through all her murder-rage, .she had sense enough to know she was outnumbered and beaten. 8he broke into a clumsy gallop, heading homeward. But Bruce and Wolf would not have it so. Delightedly, they tore into the at- tack. Their slashing fangs and their keenly nipping front teeth were cvery- where. They were all over her. In sudden panic, biinded by terror and pain, the sow put her 600 pounds of unwieldy weight into the | tastest motion she could summon. At a scrambling run, she set off, around the house, head down, bitten tail aloft, the two dogs at her bleeding haunches, Dimly, she saw a big and black ob- stacle loom up in her path. Tt was coming nolsily toward her. But she met it, headlong, throwing her vast mash through it. At the same time { Wolf and Bruce left off harrying her flanks and sprang aside. seen. There he had backed out the car, by hand, shoving it into the open, lest the motor whir give premature announcement of his presence. Then, as he boarded the machine and reach- ed for the self-starter. all bedlam general direction of the house, fifty yards away. beheld the first phases of the fight. Forgetting the need of haste and of secrecy, he sat there, open mouthed, watching a scrimmage which was be- yond all his sporting experience and which thrilled him as no prizefight | had ever done. Moveless, wide cyed, | he witnessed the battle. | But the arrival of the two other | dogs and the fiight of the sow roused | had brought him thither. The Mis- tress and the malds had no eyes or ears for anything but the wounded (Continued from Fourth Page.) fanlight over the front door. It must have been rather an imposing man- slon in its day, when the wide lawns | were cut and the shrubbery kept up. [ but it looked seedy mow. Still, the ocupola windows stared haughty out over the town. | “I suppose the Allens are one of the first familles of Badbury?” I com- mented to Mrs. Tooter. “The first—they think.” says she. “Anyway, that's Carrie's idea.” “She's—er—a bit up stage?” I sug- gested. “Snobbish, eh” “I don’t know what you'd call it, exactly,” says Mrs. Tooter. “Perhaps she has & poor memory. Anyway. she doesn't seem to remember that she ever knew me; hasn't been able to recall it since she married Ira Allen. Oh, well! Some folks are like that. There are plenty of others that she's forgotten, too. And now some of 'em are forgetting that they ever knew her. Things change about, you know.” “The tannery business has sort of petered out, eh?” I asked. “Looks &0 says Mrs. Tooter. “When I was a glrl it was the only factory in Badbury and the Allens simply ran the town. They always had, ever since old Ezra Allen started the business, way back. And for a while Carrie was the great lady here. She had the first automobile, the only sealskin cape and she gave the biggest parties. Well, she still has the sealskin cape.” “And still the great-lady airs?” 1 " says Mrs. Tooter. “She hasn't lost those.” “Didn’t I hear,” Tom goes on, “that Mr. Allen was thinking of selling the tannery?” “He'll never do it,” says Mrs. Tooter. “Carrle’ll never let him.” “Why not?' T asked. in an attempt to| Dugan had reached the garage un- | broke loose, from somewhere in the | Dugan, glancing up apprehensively, | him to & sense of the business which | ALBER%AYSON TERHUNE 1ad. Dugan knew he could. in all probabllity, drive to the main road unnoticed. it he should keep the house between him and the women. He pressed the self-starter, threw off the brake and put the car into mo- tion. Then, as he struck the level stretch of driveway, back of the house, he stepped hard on the ac- celerator. Here, for a few rods, was danger of recognitlon, and It be~ hooved alm to made speed. He made it. Forward bounded the car and struck a forty-mile gait. And around the house’s far corner, and straight to- ward Dugan, came flylng the sow and the two collies. The dogs, at sight of the onrushing car, sprang aside. The sow did not. 5 In the narrow roadway there was no room for Dugan to turn out. Nor dld he care to. Agaln and again he had run over dogs without harming his car or slackening its pace. And, of course, it would be the same with a pig. He stepped harder on the adselerator. * ko x LF DUGAN came to his senses in the hospital ward of the Paterson jail. He had not the faintest idea how he chanced to be there. When they told him the car had turned turtle and that he and a broken-necked pig had been hauled out of the wreckage, he asked in all honesty: “What car? What pig? Quit string- ing me, can't you? Which of my legs did you say is bust and which one is just twisted? They both feel as bad as each other. How'd I get here, anyhow? What happened me?" ‘When the vet had worked over Lad for an hour and had patched him up and had declared there was no doubt at all about his getting well, Wolt and Bruce were brought In to see the invalid. The mistress thought he | might be glad to see them. He was not. Indeed, after one scornful look in their direction, Laddle turned awsy from the visitors in cold disgust. Also, he was less demonstrative with the | Mistress than usual. Any one could | see his abnormally sensitive feelings | were deeply hurt. And any one who | knew Lad could tell why. He had borne the brunt of the fight | And, at the last, these lesser dogs had won the victory without his aid. Still worse, his beloved Mistress—for whom: he had so blithely staked his aged life —the Mistress had held him back by force from joining in the delirious las: phases of the fight She had made {him stand tamely by, while others | finished the grand work he had be- | sun. It was not'fair. And Laddle let | every one in sight know it was not | fair, and that he had no intention of being petted Into a good humor. §till; when, by and by, the Mistress sat down on the floor beside him and told him what a darling and won- | derful and heroic dog he was and {how proud she felt of his courage, {and when her dear hand rumpled the | soft hair behind his ears—well, some- |now Lad found himself laying his | head in her lap and making croony low sounds at her and pretending to bite her little white hand. It was always hard to stay offended at the Mistress. (Copyright. All Rights Reserved ) Getting Right With Carrie 1 called up G the long dis- 0. that afternoon Hanson Farks on tance. “Well, how you getting on?” he de- manded. “I'm up against a brick wall,” says I “Her name is Carrie. Mrs. Ira Allen, you know.” “Well, what's the matter with the old girl?” says he. “She's SHff in the neck,” says T. “A bad case. But see here; are you set on swallowing this business whole, wip- ing out the name and everything?” “If we buy the outfit, why not2" he asks. “But you need those secret formu- las that Ira Allen has in his head, | don’t you?" says 1. | “Sure,” says G. Hanson. “Thats what we're paying our money for. “But couldn’t you make him a fig- ure president,” I goes on, “keep the Allen name on the letter-heads, and put your own men in to run the cou- cern? Maybe offer him an annual |-salary of ten thousand, say—and a tew shares of stock in tho new com- pany?”* “Why, 1 hadn't says Mr. Parks. though?” “I'll phone You tomorrow.” says I “I'm going up to see Mrs. Ira Allen now." No, it wasn't so soft. She kept me palavering on the front doorstep for a full five minutes before she'd even let me into the quaint old living room withall the black walnut and ma- hogany furniture. And she got al- most rigld when 1 mentioned that I'd been sent up by thosc New York peo- ple who had been trying to buy the tannery. “Why don't you talk to Mr. Allen?” says 1. “He doesn't seem to under- stand, and I'm sure you will. They're not asking him to sell out. It's mere- ly a matter of reorganization, with Mr. Allen as president, just as he is now. The Allen Leather Company. {Only the plant is to be enlarged, i modern machinery Installed, and two or three hundred hands put to work. Of course, there will be a liberal satary for Mr. Allen.” & And when I named the exact figure 1 could see ki grab the sides of her chair. Also I could guess what ten ! thousand a year would mean. to her, {in Bradbury. I could see her turn- thought of that,” “Would he take it, “Too proud,” says Mre. Tooter. “She : ing in the old car for a new one, hir- secms to think that as long as Ira’ing & cook, having the sealskin made keeps the business their standing in . over, giving big parties once more. town is just what it was fitty years, “I will have a talk with Mr. Allen ago. Why, he hasn't made enough in | tonight.” says she. “I—I think he the last few vyears to pay taxes on|will feel differently about it by to- the property. But she refuses to let ' morrow.” “ him sell. They say she can't cven| Oh, yes! Ira did. At 10:30 he signed afford to keep a hired girl now and jon the dotted line. And right after that she does her own cooking and |luncheon I caught an afternoon train washing and cleaning. But when |for New York. she comes downtown you'll always! “Well, young woman,” says G. Han- see her like that, with her mose in|[son, when he heard the news, “I'll the alr. agy you're some ‘whizz at this sort of “Then you think,” says I, “that|thing. Why, we've been working on it's just & matter of keeping the|that old boy for nearly six months.” Allen name on the tannery office| ‘Yes,” says I, “but you didn’t begin door?” Yy getting in right with Mrs. Tooter.” “Absolutely,” say® she. (Copyright, 1923, by Sewell ¥ord.)