\y 
 
 Class 
 Book 
 
 Copyiightl^ 
 
 10 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 BY 
 GERALD SIDNEY 
 
 (" HORATIO SPUFFKINS " OF " OUR DOGS ") 
 
 WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 
 1912 
 
Copyright, 1912, 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
 Published October, 191 2 
 
 CAMELOT PRESS, l8-ao OAK STRKKT, NEW YORK 
 
 ©CU3276i3 
 
This book is founded on fact, the indisputable fact that if 
 you keep a puppy it will sooner or later form a stumbling- 
 block in your ways of peace; hence it should 
 appeal to all who have suffered at the hands 
 (or rather paws — muddy paws) of the canine 
 species, and will, it is hoped, serve as a warn- 
 ing to those who are on the verge of rashly 
 purchasing a pup without strict inquiry into 
 its moral nature. 
 
 When, several years ago, Mr. Theo. 
 Marples, F. Z. S., the eminent authority 
 on dogs and Editor of Our Dogs, gave the 
 Author his start as a writer on and illustrator 
 of dogs from the humorous point of view in 
 the columns of that journal, he (the said 
 Author) always held before himself the 
 solemn ambition that one day he would 
 write a book to expose the awful possibilities inherent in the 
 blandest of puppies. 
 
 This is the book. 
 
 GERALD SIDNEY. 
 
 
 Hastings, 191 2. 
 
My Do^ and I 
 
 by 
 Gerald 
 Sidney. 
 
 Illustrated by the Author 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Introduces the Author and more important people. The advent of the dog, 
 and the arrival of Uncle Boscohel. Which leads up to the episode of the 
 Turkish hath, and the beginning of the dog's machinations. 
 
 The reason this riotous book comes to be written is a four- 
 legged one. To be precise, the cause of all the trouble in it 
 was a pup, a hobbledehoy pup of sable coat and more sable 
 propensities, which led him, and all those who crossed his 
 devastating path, into innumerable misfortunes. 
 
 Superficially he was related to the retriever family, al- 
 though there was an elusive something about his legs which 
 suggested a dachshund ancestor, whilst his mental capacities 
 were without doubt the result of having as forbears the very 
 father and mother of Mischief. 
 
 Until he appeared on my placid horizon, life had been to 
 me a benignant, dreamy, arm-chair-and-pipey event. After 
 his arrival it was more like a perpetual motor accident with 
 aeroplane smash effects, an appallingly strenuous affair. 
 
 When I, Arthur Dobbs, settled down to business in my 
 native town of Middewick, I had looked forward to a peace- 
 ful if unfruitful career, for the essential note of Middewick 
 was peace. It was, indeed, a poetic sort of town, reminding 
 
 9 
 
lo MY DOG AND I 
 
 one vividly of Goldsmith's deserted village, only more so, 
 and just the place for a man desiring quiet in which to work 
 out his ideas. For, you see, I was an inventor. I had arrived 
 at this walk in life by way of much meditation and dabbling 
 with other curious ways of wasting time, and finally entered 
 into my profession through the gentle furnace of an American 
 Correspondence Course, diploma-flying and triumphant. 
 The diploma said I was a fully-fledged inventor, and although 
 nobody else seemed to believe it, I wasn't going to doubt the 
 thing. It was a very fine looking diploma indeed, with 
 pictures of wdreless telephones and air craft at the top, and 
 a most artistic figure of Britannia with the Union Jack and 
 Stars and Stripes defying the lightning from the deck of a 
 submarine at the bottom. 
 
 It was a summer afternoon, I remember, on w^hich the 
 dog first darkened my blameless life. Middewick market 
 street was basking in the sun, and save for 
 Mr. Gibble, the live stock dealer, w^hose em- 
 porium lay opposite my window, no one was 
 about as I looked over the wire screen. I 
 watched Mr. Gibble bovinely scratching his 
 head for some time, in fact until there came 
 round the corner a girl of twenty or so; not a 
 Mr. Gibble. bad-looking girl either. I may say, in con- 
 fidence, that I had a very high opinion of her 
 indeed, which she in the past had not reciprocated. It 
 seemed the more I liked her the better she enjoyed making 
 me look about as first-class an idiot as possible. In a word, 
 Pectora Boscobel, the adopted daughter of my Uncle Bos- 
 cobel, apparently had a secret grudge against mankind, 
 possibly on account of her name, evolved by my Uncle, whose 
 Pectoral Pellets — Boscobel's Pectoral Pellets for Pneumonia, 
 you know — brought her father an enviable income. 
 
 Pectora sailed along until she reached Mr. Gibble's, spoke 
 to him for a moment, and then the two entered his inferno 
 together. I began to feel uneasy, for the night before I'd 
 proposed to her for the seventeenth time, and bitter ex- 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 II 
 
 perience taught me to expect reprisals shortly. They always 
 
 followed. Her answer to the last offer of my hand was a 
 
 booby trap the next time I called. That uncle happened to 
 
 fall into it instead of me proves 
 
 nothing, it was intended for me; 
 
 and although I escaped, Uncle 
 
 made so many remarks when he 
 
 found it hadn't been wasted, I was 
 
 sorry I didn't receive the deluge 
 
 myself, and so avoid hearing his 
 
 views on the matter. It took two 
 
 half-crown packets of his pellets to 
 
 put his voice right. Therefore I 
 
 watched the entrance to Gibble's 
 
 with a kind of feeling as though 
 
 my heart was trying to see how 
 
 long it could hold its breath without 
 
 sneezing. 
 
 Presently my cousin emerged 
 with a black puppy, blandly fat, 
 in her arms. Mr. Gibble followed 
 with a look of intense relief on 
 his flat face, and recommenced 
 scratching his head. Pectora crossed 
 the road, sat the pup on my doorstep, shook a warning 
 finger at it, and tripped off. I concluded, as she knew I 
 had a certain timidity about dogs, that this was a little 
 attention for the previous night's proposal. I looked ob- 
 liquely out of the corner of the window at the pup, who put 
 out his tongue at me, and thjen across at Mr. Gibble, who 
 was now shaking his fist and muttering some weird incan- 
 tation. By raising the sash, I heard his dulcet tones floating 
 on the still summer air. 
 
 "Harl" droned Mr. Gibble. ^'Har! So I've got shet of 
 ye at larst, ye varmint, 'ave I? Har! No more a-killin' my 
 birdses, my friend! No more a-makin' nestes of my best 
 clo'es, hey, you hugly himp!" 
 
 She sat the pup on my 
 doorstep. 
 
12 MY DOG AND I 
 
 This was the kind of dog planted on me, was it? Nothing 
 like coming with a good reference. I mentally christened the 
 pup "The Demon," and had no reason afterwards to alter 
 the name. 
 
 ''Hi!" I shouted to Mr. Gibble, ''come and take this dog 
 away!" 
 
 But Mr. Gibble chose to misunderstand me. 
 
 "It is a nice day; you're right, Mr. Dobbs," he nodded 
 cheerily. 
 
 "No, take this pup away!" I yelled. "You can have it 
 back. I don't want it. My doctor says on no account must 
 I have a dog near me; it might bring on hydrophobia." 
 
 " 'Ydrophobia? Fancy you 'aving that! There's a lot of 
 it about, I know," he replied. "I can symperthize with you, 
 sir, for I've got a touch of it meself. Can't a-bear the sight 
 o' water. 'Ave you tried the beer at the Market Head? It's 
 very soothin' for a complaint like ours," he chuckled. 
 
 Whilst I was searching for a word fitly to suit the case, 
 there smote upon my ear a flapping sound, as of a small 
 boy being chastened. Well I knew that curious step, as 
 though the owner of it rested his heel gently and then asserted 
 himself by thwacking the balance of his foot down flailwise. 
 It heralded Uncle Boscobel's, my Uncle Boscobel's, approach, 
 no doubt on his way from a Council meeting. I had just 
 time to catch a glimpse of his noble girth and pursy fea- 
 tures before he reached my door. He generally looked in 
 on his way home, so I wasn't surprised to see the handle 
 turn. 
 
 The door suddenly flew open, and with an unearthly yell a 
 little, fat, elderly man somersaulted into the room, ricochetted 
 off a bench, kicked the back of his head with both heels at 
 once, and with a fearsome screech finally landed on a stone 
 ink jar, where he sat speechless and grampus-like. 
 
 The cause of my Uncle's unconventional entrance was 
 obvious, for that pup sat amiably goggling in the open 
 doorway. Something had to be done before the old gentle- 
 man got his breath and started discussing the matter, so I 
 
MY DOG AND I 13 
 
 grabbed the impish pup and planted him in Mr. Boscobel's 
 arms, and said — 
 
 *'My dear Uncle, I'm delighted you dropped in! I have 
 only just bought this highly valuable dog to present to you, 
 for I know you have long been wanting a house dog. You'll 
 find a him splendid guard, and as for his pedigree, well, just 
 look at him!" 
 
 There was, fortunately, one weak spot in Uncle's nature, 
 he could never refuse a present. A gift always softened him, 
 and though I had my doubts how far his sense of gratitude 
 would be affected by the pieces of jar sticking in his legs, 
 I hoped for the best. If he would take it, I should be rid 
 of an incubus and Pectora would be out-manoeuvered for 
 once. 
 
 Uncle's podgy face, over which the pup was fondly slobber- 
 ing, relaxed, and he heaved his rotundity into a standing 
 position. 
 
 " Thankee, my boy ! The little beggar certainly tripped me 
 up, but I'll forgive him. What I called for was to see how 
 you were getting on with that what-dye-call-it you were 
 making for me." 
 
 'at's finished," I replied. 
 
 Amongst many other inventions, I had recently turned 
 my attention to the making of a portable Turkish bath, 
 which, when he referred to a what-dye-call-it. Uncle was 
 recalling. He had taken a lot of interest in the idea, as he 
 had a praiseworthy mind to try to boil some of his adipose 
 tissue off, and had asked me to make one for him. With 
 the help of some planks, matchboarding, and a cheap oil- 
 stove, I had fixed up a very fine one, with a hole at the top 
 for the bather's head, just like the advertisement pictures and, 
 albeit not ornamental, I anticipated it would, as a fat re- 
 ducer, boil, bake or stew with the best of them. 
 
 ''There it is," I went on, pointing to a black object some 
 four feet square in a corner. "You try it, and in a week we'll 
 be showing you as a living skeleton." 
 
 As he waddled towards it to make a closer inspection, I 
 
14 MY DOG AND I 
 
 heard a rustle, and looking up, saw Pectora coming in. She 
 nodded to her father, and then pointedly remarked — 
 
 "I see you have got a dog, Arthur! I hope you'll be kind 
 to it." 
 
 *' Yes," I answered unblushingly, "I bought it as a present 
 for Uncle, and he's going to take it home." 
 
 Even this did not stay my cousin. She merely took an- 
 other tack. 
 
 "What's that ugly thing, dad?" 
 
 "That's a Turkish bath Arthur's made for me, my dear. 
 I'm going to have it sent home and try it at once." 
 
 She took her opportunity. 
 
 "How nice!" she said. "I'm sure you must be dying 
 to try it! Why not ask Arthur to bring it home for you 
 now?" 
 
 "Oh, I can send the gardener down for it," said Uncle 
 in a muffled voice from the interior of the bath, where he 
 was trying the stove with considerable paraffinal success. 
 
 "He's ill with a cold, so I gave him some pellets and sent 
 him home," romanced Pectora cheerfully, and before I knew 
 it, had persuaded her father that I was madly anxious to 
 drag the thing through the street. 
 
 "Very well, come along both of you," said Uncle, and 
 flapped off. 
 
 It was an impressive procession, enhanced by the audible 
 remarks of Mr. Gibble, who was a delighted spectator, about 
 carrying coffins to save paying undertakers. First went 
 Uncle, with his feet bravely smacking the pavement; then 
 came Pectora, endeavoring to look as though she didn't 
 belong to us; then myself, groaning under the weight of the 
 bath; and lastly the pup, who alternately worried my heels 
 and took flying leaps at my burden. 
 
 It reminded one of the dear old Christy Minstrel carol — 
 "Sister Mary walks like this," 
 only it should have begun with — 
 
 "Here comes Uncle, slow and fat," 
 
MY DOG AND I 15 
 
 to be quite in keeping. The most agonizing thing about that 
 parade was the behavior of the Demon. You see each time 
 he playfully leaped at me I lost my balance, and only saved 
 the fruit of my inventive faculties from crashing into firewood 
 by letting it fall on me instead of the road, a proceeding which 
 so pleased the Demon that he insisted on several encores. 
 
 We reached Uncle's villa at last; and after an exciting 
 struggle in the doorway, during which, to my delight, I found 
 I'd pinned the pup against the jamb, I fell into the hall with 
 the bath. Pectora watched my efforts coldly, whilst the 
 Demon, who caught my eye as I emerged from under that 
 awful box, gave me such a malicious grin that I kicked out 
 at him, unfortunately landing Uncle on the shin, causing him 
 to let out the howl of a soul in torment. After an interval of 
 electric silence and suppressed gout, he and I staggered up- 
 stairs with the bath, and planted it in his dressing-room. As I 
 again explained the way to light the stove, climb in and shut 
 the door, he impetuously disrobed. I was reminded that the 
 pup was about by seeing it trotting round the room with a 
 flannel vest in its silly mouth. 
 
 "Now you can go down and talk to Pectora," said Uncle, 
 as he coyly prepared to enter the boiling chamber. 
 
 So I did; at least, I meant to. Pectora, on my coming into 
 the drawing-room, walked with a pained expression into the 
 garden, and on my following her, stalked back to the house 
 and shut herself in the library. She was a great believer in 
 this kind of discipline for mere men creatures, and I can 
 commend it to any lady who wishes to make anyone uncom- 
 fortable and at the same time extremely apologetic for un- 
 known faux pas. I tried the library door half heartedly, 
 but it was locked, and was wandering aimlessly about the 
 hall when a tremendous bellow from upstairs shook the 
 house. 
 
 I rushed up to Uncle's room. Beyond the fact that his 
 face, which was all I could see of him, was purpler than 
 usual, he seemed to be stewing nicely. 
 
 ''What's the matter?" I exclaimed. 
 
i6 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 That dog's inside here ! 
 
 "That dog! Find it at once!" 
 
 It struck me he must have taken a violent fancy to the 
 Demon to want him at such a time, unless it was he wished 
 
 to give him a boil up 
 too, but I contented 
 myself with thinking 
 only. 
 
 "Where is it, Uncle?" 
 I asked mildly. 
 
 "Inside here, you 
 fool!" he yelled. "His 
 beastly hair is tickling 
 something awful. Open 
 the door, can't you, 
 idiot, and get him out!" 
 By pulling hard on 
 my side, and vigorous if 
 painful kicks on his, the 
 door came open, and out 
 strolled the Demon, perspiring and happy. Seeing Uncle 
 was about to lift up his voice, I got out of the room on the 
 pretense of taking the pup downstairs, and spent the next 
 ten minutes in the hall thinking out new names to call it. 
 
 My meditations were broken by the sudden appearance 
 of Pectora, who sniffed dubiously, and seeing me, asked — 
 "Is anything on fire?" 
 
 Following the direction of her eyes, I saw coming down 
 the staircase volumes of highly aromatic smoke of a soupy 
 consistency. It seemed to be coming from the direction of 
 Uncle's room too, so I dashed upstairs, and Pectora fled to 
 the library, uttering sharp squeaks. Possibly she meant 
 them for ladylike screams, but, in effect, squeaks they 
 were. 
 
 The first thing that struck me was that Uncle was being 
 fricasseed alive, his noble face looming black as ink through 
 a fog of smoke. 
 
 "The stove's smoking!" he gasped. "Let me out!" 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 17 
 
 ''Can't you undo the door yourself?" I blew, as I struggled 
 with it; but before he had time to reply, it came off its hinges 
 with a bang, which threw me backwards most acrobatically. 
 I had a vision of pink limbs paddling furiously before the 
 fog of smoke closed in again. 
 
 "Confound you, my head's stuck now!" he howled, as 
 though it was my fault. 
 
 "Wriggle it," I suggested hopefully, at which — well, it 
 was a good thing he got some smoke down his throat before 
 he got really into his swing as an orator. Gingerly approach- 
 ing, I observed that the poor old fellow's neck had swollen 
 with the heat, and when I ventured to hint at sawing him 
 out he gave such a fearful plunge, I thought it best to evap- 
 orate. My agitation was not smoothed by stumbling over 
 the Demon four steps from the bottom of the stairs, and 
 landing heapishly and sheepishly at the feet of Pectora, who 
 was gazing up towards her father's room and holding her 
 ears. 
 
 "I've telephoned," she announced suddenly. 
 
 "Telephoned? Where to?" I asked. 
 
 "The fire station. They'll be here soon." 
 
 "But there isn't a fire," I said angrily. 
 
 "What about the smoke, then?" 
 
 I stood up. 
 
 "It's that awful dog of yours!" I exploded. "It's all 
 through him. He must have turned the wick up whilst he 
 was scuffling inside there, and made it smoke." 
 
 "I don't understand you, Arthur," she answered sweetly. 
 "My dog? Why, you know I never had one." 
 
 "Who's is it, then? Didn't I see you buy it at Gibble's 
 and plant it on my doorstep? " 
 
 Pectora raised her eyebrows. 
 
 "I don't know what you mean. How can it be mine when 
 I distinctly heard you tell dad you'd bought it as a present 
 for him?" 
 
 She was evidently enjoying herself more than I was, and I 
 hardly knew how to answer conclusively; but I was saved 
 
i8 MY DOG AND I 
 
 from getting further into the mire by a thundering at the 
 front door. I stepped forward and opened it, to be nearly 
 knocked down by a strenuous brass helmet with a man inside 
 it; at the same instant a glimpse of a fire-engine, an escape, 
 and more brass helmets, backed by an enthusiastic crowd 
 of Middewick's slum elite, pointed to interesting develop- 
 ments. 
 
 ''Where's th' foire?" asked the brassy one, glaring round 
 and snorting. 
 
 "My good fellow," I explained, "there wasn't a fire. It 
 was a dog, you see. It turned the lamp up in the bath, you 
 know." 
 
 The gentleman with the brass head-dress regarded me for 
 a moment, and tapping his forehead in a most significant 
 manner, asked — 
 
 "Loony?" 
 
 "I beg your pardon?" 
 
 " 'Ave you been like that long? If there weren't no fire, 
 what for did ye telephone for? " 
 
 " I didn't. It was a young lady. She " 
 
 "Ho! it's a young lady now. Thought ye said 'twas a 
 leetle dog or a bath, didn't ye? Where's your keeper? I 
 can't waste time on you. Bill," he called to another canned 
 individual who was feverishly trailing a large hose pipe across 
 the lawn, "Bill, I never knew this 'ouse were an asylum! 
 'Ere's the prize boy of the lot tellin' me all about it, pretty 
 dear." 
 
 "Asylum be hanged I" I roared. "I tell you it was the 
 Demon." 
 
 "Pore young feller!" soothed Bill, who had joined his 
 friend. " 'Ark! There's some more on 'em upstairs, George. 
 'Ear 'em bashin' round?" 
 
 They both stood listening with their mouths open, whilst 
 Bill's hose squished aimlessly about the hall. 
 
 There certainly was a terrible crashing going on above; 
 and seeing Messrs. Brasshat and Co.'s expression change 
 from vacuity to horror, I turned round. 
 
MY DOG AND I 19 
 
 Bounding down the stairs came a stumpy, fat apparition, 
 coal black, with a sheet tied round its waist, and a large 
 wooden arrangement hanging round its neck. 
 
 "What's this?" it blared, as it 
 cavorted ragef ully . ' ' What in blazes 
 are those tin-potted maniacs gib- 
 bering there for?" 
 
 Bill and George gave a despair- 
 ing wail and fell down the steps, 
 picked themselves up, flung their 
 helmeted frames across the flower- 
 beds, and scrambling on the fire- 
 engine, clattered off at full gallop, 
 the escape following. The crowd 
 divided, half to follow the firemen, 
 half to cheer the apparition. 
 
 "Good ole Uncle Bones!" they 
 
 cried. "Give us a song!" . , ^, , 
 
 aoL i xT- 1. J tjj i. J J.^ A coal black appanhon 
 
 Shut that door! stormed the came bounding downstairs. 
 black man. 
 
 Through the soot I discerned Uncle Boscobel's false teeth 
 chattering with rage. 
 
 "That stokehole of yours! " he gnashed at me. 
 
 "It wasn't the fault of the bath, it was the dog," I inter- 
 jected. 
 
 "Yes, I know it was that dog," he screamed, vainly trying 
 to wrap a Httle more sheet round him; "your soot machine 
 and your dog!" He tore frenziedly at his wooden necklace. 
 "You take your precious dog away, or never speak to me 
 again! D'y hear? Take it oway/ Take it away!" 
 
 "All right. Uncle, I will. Only let me get hold of the 
 brute " 
 
 A voice from behind the library door broke in — 
 
 "Oh, how cruel he sounds, dad! Don't let him be unkind 
 to the poor thing! " 
 
 "Certainly not, my dear," sputtered Uncle. "Listen to 
 me, Arthur," he added, with a wrench that tore about a yard 
 
20 MY DOG AND I 
 
 off his sheet uniform. "You take that dog home and treat 
 it kindly, my boy, or else I'll cut you out of my will." 
 
 He glared and fumed for a space. 
 
 ''Thank you, dad," came from the library. 
 
 All this time the Demon had been placidly sitting, watching 
 us contemptuously. As Uncle sailed majestically upstairs I 
 made a dive for the pup. I daren't offend Uncle, so I had 
 better take it home, and the sooner the better. 
 
 The Demon, seeing me dive, thought it was some new 
 game, and dived too through the glass window in the door 
 into the garden. I followed, and for half an hour we trampled 
 that garden and all that therein was to everlasting mush. 
 The Demon at last lay down beside the little pond it pleases 
 Uncle to call the lake. Warily approaching, I made a grab, 
 lost my balance, and plunged into a choice three feet of duck- 
 weed, frogs and green water. 
 
 As I clambered out I saw three things — one, the dog dis- 
 appearing through the gate; another, Pectora smiling from 
 the library window; and the third. Uncle, black and stormy, 
 dancing a tempestuous rage ballet at the window above. 
 
 Wearily I dragged to the gate. The Demon had vanished. 
 Had he (blessed thought !) gone for good? I hugged the idea 
 as I dripped home. I reached the door. On the steps sat the 
 Demon, expectant. I broken-heartedly turned the key, and 
 entered with the pup at my heels. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 In which my friend Hawk makes his how, and we discuss the situation. 
 Hawk evolves a novel, and the dog absorbs the supper. A stremwus 
 night adventure ensues, in which we dijffer with P. C. Harker on the 
 matter of a burglary. 
 
 The Demon stopped a moment on the mat and then followed 
 me upstairs, avoiding three hearty backward kicks in a most 
 disgustingly artful manner, and retrieved the shoe which had 
 come off when I kicked out, in a condition of slobber worthy of 
 a prize baby. 
 
 I lit the gas and sank wearily into a chair in my sitting- 
 room, which, with the bedroom adjoining, formed my 
 bachelor quarters. These were on the first floor of an aged 
 house of the break-your-neck-if-you-stand-up order, a house 
 with a tendency to lengthy passages leading nowhere in 
 particular and cupboard-like rooms of no available use. 
 
 The floor below was taken up by my workshop and office. 
 The one above was empty, save for creaks and groans, and the 
 attics were inhabited by a growing family of mice, with 
 occasional lodgers in the shape of the local cats, who from 
 time to time dropped in for a mouse soiree. 
 
 Sometimes on the attic stairs I would find two or three 
 hungry and miserable kittens, orphaned in an unfriendly 
 world. These, out of kindness, I treated with a pail of water, 
 and the world wagged on heartlessly two or three kittens the 
 less. It may seem reprehensible, perhaps, and had they been 
 Persians matters might have been different, but as they were 
 generally the progeny of the most crippled specimens of 
 Middewick's stray cat population, one had to be cruel to be 
 kind, as it were. 
 
 This evening, though, my usual joy in home comforts was 
 warped. When you sit meditating in wet clothes, that cHng 
 to you even as a confidence trick man, you feel warpy. In 
 
 21 
 
22 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 looking round for something to throw at the Demon, I 
 noticed the little brute was lying on the mat worrying a letter. 
 Evidently he had found it in the passage; and after playing a 
 game of touch with him, in which he was " it " and I was doing 
 the touching with the poker, I obtained 
 possession of the mangled epistle. 
 
 It was from my friend Hawk, and his 
 screeds were usually interesting. He was 
 one of those fellows who pretend they are 
 fearfully busy, and always telegraph when 
 a letter would do; and to even things up, 
 write long rigmaroles on odd bits of paper 
 when a telegram is necessary. This one 
 was scrawled on a piece of the Evening 
 News, over the cricket scores, and informed 
 me that he. Hawk, would be glad if I could 
 put him up that night, he being on a tour 
 in search of local color, whatever he might 
 imagine that was. Therefore he'd land at 
 Middewick Station at nine o'clock, and 
 incidentally hoped the inventing business 
 was looking up, and did I remember that last night we 
 had together, what? 
 
 Well, it was e\ddent he'd like to be met, so as the time was 
 getting on I locked the Demon in the attic, and after changing 
 into dryer clothes, went forth to meet my friend. 
 
 But for a tendency to being put up and borrowing postage 
 stamps. Hawk was not a bad fellow; moreover, I wanted to 
 unburden my harassed soul about the pup to someone, so I 
 was not sorry he was coming. I would certainly ask his ad\ice 
 about it. He was absolutely a ghoul on advice, and you 
 could always depend on it too. Do exactly the opposite to 
 what he said, and you came out successfully every time. 
 
 By profession Hawk considered himself an author. It 
 was fortunate he had a little money of his own. He called 
 himself a writer on the strength of an impossible detective 
 tale some misguided publisher of healthy hterature for office 
 
 Hawk. 
 
MY DOG AND I 23 
 
 boys had accepted in the dim past; also, on the strength of 
 that same yarn {Doomed to Destruction; or Detective Donald 
 Dashii's Daring), he cultivated a sleuth-hound personality. 
 To state to him a thing had happened never satisfied Hawk. 
 He wanted to find out when and why, what motive was at 
 the bottom of it, had the body been found, and if so what 
 had become of the villain's jeweled dagger? and so forth. 
 Further, he insisted on dressing the part, a kind of Sherlock 
 Holmes rig out — soft hat, long frock-coat, briar pipe, general 
 aroma of stale shag, and a piercing eye. There the likeness 
 stopped, as he was both short and embonpointish. 
 
 As the train drew up, I saw his animated countenance at a 
 carriage window, and hastened to greet him. His first words 
 as he shook hands showed his practical outlook on life, albeit 
 a writer of fiction. 
 
 '* Well met, Dobbs! " he cried. '' Where's the refreshment- 
 room? " 
 
 As he rattled on, the local color he referred to in his letter 
 turned out to be a desire to avoid his recently-widowed land- 
 lady, who having just buried her third husband, was begin- 
 ning to look up and take notice again, and in his direction. 
 
 ''But at the same time," said Hawk, ''I really am looking 
 for local color, and a plot as well. The Editor of The Er- 
 rand Lads' Gazette, who has read that novel of mine — yes, I 
 said Novel, Dobbs — told me the other day that if I could 
 knock him up another one, a Httle more bloodthirsty, he'd 
 consider it. The worst of it is I'm hung up for a plot." 
 
 "How about something supernatural, eh?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes," he assented, '' yes, that's not bad. Must be strong, 
 you know. Revolvers, ghost turns out to be an anarchist, or 
 something like that, what?" 
 
 ''Introduce a demon dog into it," I suggested, "a dog 
 which casts a blight on all it meets, and leaves a trail of tor- 
 tured humans anathematizing its memory. Call it the 
 'Mongrel Malevolent,' and there you are." 
 
 "Not a bad idea, but rather far-fetched," he approved, 
 "because the general feeling is that dogs are more delightful 
 
24 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 than fiendish. If there had been such a dog, now, it would be 
 
 different." 
 
 We had reached my house, and looking up, I saw the 
 
 Demon silhouetted against the sky with something hanging 
 
 from his jaws. 
 
 "I'll show you one in half a minute," said I, leading Hawk 
 
 to the sitting-room, where he sat down and wheezed genially. 
 Leaving him scraping out his powerful pipe preparatory to 
 poisoning the atmosphere with 
 his favorite weed (weed was an 
 appropriate name for it), I went 
 up to the attic to investigate. 
 Three kittens lay on the floor 
 mewing sadly, and the Demon 
 was looking into the room 
 through the broken window with 
 another kitten dangling from his 
 mouth, which he dropped on 
 seeing me. I had no time to 
 admire his evident anxiety to 
 father the orphaned offspring of 
 
 stray cats, so I clutched him quickly and dragged him down 
 
 to Hawk. 
 
 "There's the identical," I said, as Hawk foolishly patted 
 
 him with his foot, and I related the incidents of the day, 
 
 with emphasis on the way Pectora had treated me and with 
 
 much strength of verbiage on the Demon's character. 
 
 Hawk, like the unsympathetic idiot he is, roared with 
 
 laughter. 
 
 "That's only the dog's fun, old man. Your natural dislike 
 
 to the species has influenced you against him. Now, as far 
 
 as I can see from the facts (and facts, my dear Dobbs, as I 
 
 have often pointed out to you, are arrived at by scientific 
 
 deduction, and never by assumption) " 
 
 The Demon was looking 
 into the room. 
 
 He filled his pipe, and lay back in his chair tapping his 
 extended fingers gently together. 
 
 "Go on," I growled bitterly, "go the whole Holmes. I 
 
MY DOG AND I 25 
 
 haven't a copy of The Times to lend you for you to see the 
 Agony Column, but The Middewick Observer is within reach, 
 and there's plenty of agonized journalese in that. If you'd 
 like a dressing-gown there is one available, and I'll pretend 
 to be Doctor Watson, shall I? " 
 
 ''Don't get shirty," said the little man. "We authors get 
 so saturated wath the types we write of that our personalities 
 sometimes merge. I don't think much of the dog idea; but 
 this young woman, Pectora, appeals to me as a likely heroine." 
 
 "How would you develop the plot? " 
 
 Hawk mused. 
 
 "Of course, I should start with the usual murder, and 
 introduce a crime investigator. The crime is traced to 
 poisoned cough-drops. Here we could bring in Pectora, 
 see? She — 1 think you said she was pretty? — she is des- 
 perately smitten with the detective, and on being discovered 
 confesses to administering the fatal lozenge, but promises 
 him her hand and heart if he will keep her secret. Yes, so 
 far that's good." 
 
 "Who'd you draw your detective from?" 
 
 "My own personality would suggest " began Hawk. 
 
 "Look here," I said hotly, "I don't so much mind you in- 
 troducing Pectora in a reasonable way, but to make her admit 
 a crime she is not capable of, and on top of that throw herself 
 at the head of an under-sized paunchy imitation of a detec- 
 tive, is more than I can stand." 
 
 "You're very personal; besides, you've got it all wrong," 
 said Hawk in a pained voice. "She wasn't the real poisoner, 
 you know; she only said she was." 
 
 "What on earth for?" 
 
 "For love of the detective, of course," replied the idiot 
 with a far-away look. 
 
 "Heavens! she'd never look at you. Hates little fat men. 
 Besides, if she didn't do the thing, who did? " 
 
 "Why, the comic man! All tales need comic relief, you 
 know, my boy, and for this purpose I should introduce a sort 
 of polite lunatic. It was he who administered that death- 
 
26 MY DOG AND I 
 
 dealing cough-drop, sir, not the heroine. I should lay myself 
 out over that character — make him do some of the fat- 
 headedest things imaginable, and always be in hot water, you 
 know, what? " 
 
 Hawk's inane "what? " ever annoyed me to the verge of 
 running amok, so I snorted angrily at him 
 
 "Huh! What would you make him be, another detective? " 
 
 "An inventor! " he said blandly. "Just a fool inventor! " 
 
 "I suppose you mean to libel me? " My voice rose. "It 
 would be like you. What have I done to be accused of giving 
 your deceased poisoned cough-drops, eh? " 
 
 "Oh, you didn't poison him intentionally!" soothed Hawk. 
 
 "Then why did I give them to him? " 
 
 "Because there was apparently nothing else to offer him — 
 no food, supper, lubricants," he meaningly answered. 
 
 Then it was I realized that Hawk was both hungry and 
 pulling my leg, and got up to provide for him. 
 
 Now for a fellow who catered for himself, it flattered me to 
 think that my commissariat was pretty fair, and I soon found 
 a tin of salmon, half a ham, some splendid jam (what if the 
 bloater paste had upset in it? the flavor would be more 
 piquant), cheese, bread, butter, and several cooked sausages. 
 There was an egg, too; but not having its birth certificate, 
 this I shunned. I knew those eggs one comes upon in odd 
 corners. They are rather less eggs than what the chefs 
 term "Bombs en surprise." 
 
 "Anything to drink? " asked Hawk anxiously. 
 
 "I've got some downstairs," I reassured him. 
 
 "I'm a bit of a connooser in such matters," said Hawk; 
 "I'll come and help you carry them up." 
 
 We were just reascending the stairs again when he gave a 
 sudden gurgle, and shouting, "We left the dog in the room! " 
 tore past me; but it was too late. We'd both forgotten the 
 Demon. The Demon, however, had not forgotten the supper. 
 The ham was gone; the bone peeped from under the sofa. 
 The sausages were but a memory. As for the butter, the pup 
 had got it plastered over his back legs, evidently having used 
 
MY DOG AND I 27 
 
 it as a cushion the while he dealt with the ham. He himself 
 lay growling under the table, making savage attempts on the 
 tin of salmon. Fortunately, the bread and cheese were un- 
 molested; and after I had hunted the Demon into the attic 
 again, we made some sort of meal. 
 
 ''I begin to believe what you urge against that dog," 
 remarked Hawk after supper. " I've got a splendid idea," he 
 went on, suddenly laying a revolver on the table, ''shoot it." 
 
 '' Good goodness! " I shouted, falling backwards, chair and 
 all. ' ''Put that down, you crazy idiot! Where did you get 
 it?" 
 
 "Oh," he nonchalantly replied, "I always carry one. One 
 never knows, and in running a desperate criminal to earth a 
 gun comes in handy, old chap. You take this and pot the 
 beggar, and there you are." 
 
 "That's all very well," I said, edging away from the weapon, 
 with which Hawk was covering various articles of furniture 
 with one eye cocked as who should say, "Another word, and 
 you're a dead sofa." "That's all very well, but Uncle knows 
 I've got no pistol, and — oh, put it away, there's a good chap! 
 you'll be killing someone in a minute." 
 
 He gazed affectionately at his murderous weapon, and 
 with obvious reluctance pocketed it, and then launched 
 into an interminable yarn about what he'd do if he met a 
 burglar, and the tale had so many ramifications that it was 
 midnight before he shut up. 
 
 We said good-night then; and as he was my more or less 
 honored guest, and I only possessed one bed, I gave this 
 up to him with the best grace I could muster, and made shift 
 vsith the sofa myself. 
 
 Putting the gas out, I turned in, or rather on, and tried 
 to sleep; but sleep came not. An elusive insect, once the 
 property of the Demon, assisted in keeping me awake, and 
 when that had quietened down I suddenly remembered 
 we'd left the front door ajar when we first came in, and 
 incidentally there were no matches in the room. Well, I 
 wasn't going to ramble about the house in the middle of 
 
28 MY DOG AND I 
 
 the night, so let the door stop as it was. A high wind was 
 moaning down the chimney and rattHng the windows, and 
 during a lull in it I distinctly heard something moving over- 
 head. Had someone got through that beastly open door and 
 prowled around promiscuously? I jumped off the sofa, 
 groped for and found the poker, and creeping to the door, 
 listened intently. 
 
 Footsteps! creepy-crawly footsteps! I heard them shuffle 
 along the passage, turn the corner, then — silence ! I held my 
 breath. The Demon's Httle friend started in some unreach- 
 able place, and what with that and the tension I nearly 
 burst. It couldn't be the Demon, I argued. What I heard 
 were human, nasty, stealthy, human steps. A burglar? I 
 wouldn't wake Hawk, because he'd chaff if I was mistaken. 
 Should I dare? . . . The poker was a fairly hefty one. 
 One might crack a skull with it easily, eh? I visuahzed the 
 sickly thud as iron met bone, and trying its weight, proved 
 the sickliness of the thud when iron met shin. All of which — 
 the poker, the Demon's friend, and the footsteps — enraged 
 me so, I decided to sally forth. I opened the door softly. 
 The passage was pitch dark, no sound at the moment audible 
 but my own wheezing and the wind's moan. Softly and cat- 
 like I slid along, groping before me. I reached the corner and 
 turned. This was where the footsteps had ceased . . . 
 was it an ambush? My outstretched hand struck something 
 soft — a face. I felt the eyebrow as I raised my deadly 
 weapon, but the poker fell, not on a skull, but the floor, as 
 something cold brushed my temple. 
 
 "Hands up! Not a word or you're a dead man!" hissed a 
 voice. *' Dare to say a word and I'll " 
 
 There was a flash, a bang, and some plaster fell; but, 
 thank goodness, I was as yet unscathed, and the flash had 
 revealed to me the homely features of Haw^k. 
 
 ''Dobbs, you fool, I took you for him!" "Hawk, you ass, 
 I thought you were he!" burst simultaneously. 
 
 "Hst!" added Hawk, "I didn't mean the thing to go off. 
 Have you seen it?" 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 29 
 
 "Seen what? I certainly heard footsteps, but it must 
 have been you." 
 
 "No. I awoke suddenly, feeling there was someone in my 
 room. The door was open, and I saw a dark form slide out 
 by it. Did you lock up? " 
 
 "No, we left the front door open when we came in." 
 
 "Then it's either a burglar or " 
 
 "Or?" 
 
 "A prowling maniac 1" he snarled. "There was one 
 escaped recently near here; saw it in the paper. Bet you 
 he's armed too. Knife or something. Hst!" 
 
 Something was moving on the stairs, scuffling along the 
 wall . . . then still. What was it? I peered daringly 
 over the banisters, and saw the hall door wide open, and 
 what looked like a black bag on the step. I drew back. 
 From the stairs came stertorous breathing. Was it the 
 Demon after all? But no, for a muffled footstep mounted 
 slowly, step by step; besides, a burglar wouldn't leave a bag 
 on the front step, would he? It must be the maniac. We 
 cowered against the passage wall ... a something 
 came closer, closer . . . and all at once we were lying 
 on the floor with the maniac on top. 
 
 " Help ! Murder ! " yelled Hawk the brave. 
 
 To which a breathless voice replied bitingly — 
 
 "I'll 'elp yer in 'alf a minute. Burglin' Mr. Dobbs, was 
 yer? Not as 'e's worth burglin'; but I've got yer both, and 
 thank 'eaven I'm 'eavy enough to keep yer down. This 
 means promotion for me, sure's my name's 'Arker." 
 
 I gasped with relief. It was Harker, the Middewick 
 policeman. 
 
 "Let us get up, and I'll explain. Show your lantern, you 
 goat," I demanded. 
 
 "Promise you'll keep quiet, then?" asked Harker. 
 
 "All right," I agreed. 
 
 To which remark that idiot Hawk added — 
 
 "It's a fair cop. We'll go quiet, guv'nor." 
 
 He always overdid things in his striving after effect. 
 
30 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Harker let us get up, did something to his lantern, and 
 flashed a Ught on us. 
 
 "Why, it's Mr. Dobbs! ' he ejaculated. ''Just my 
 luck." 
 
 Then his face brightened, and thrusting his lantern into 
 my hand, he made an elephantine spring at my unfortunate 
 friend. Down went poor old Hawk under the tonnage of the 
 law, and the triumphant Harker wriggled into a sitting 
 position on the chest of the crime investigator. 
 
 "As proper a catch as ever I see," panted the policeman. 
 "Don't you be afeard, Mr. Dobbs, I've got un. Pistol, eh? " 
 he continued, picking up the fallen revolver and dandling it 
 nervously. "Ho, yes, you murderin' villain" — he gave an 
 accusatory bounce, and Hawk groaned — " 'tempted — murder 
 — burglaring — an' — resistin' — th' police — in — 'scution — of 
 — 's duty. The bench'll send yer to the Sessions, and I'll get 
 made sergeant. It'll be five years for yer, my friend. Why, 
 if you 'ad shot Mr. Dobbs the town 'd 'alf lynch yer. We 
 ain't got many things to laugh at 'ere to be able to spare 
 'im." 
 
 I thought it time to break in. 
 
 "Look here, Harker, you've made a mistake. In fact, it's 
 all a mistake. That's Mr. Hawk, a friend of mine. Let him 
 up, there's a good chap." 
 
 But Harker was not going to lose his prey without a 
 struggle. 
 
 "No, Mr. Dobbs," he said, wagging a fat face at me, "it 
 does yer credit, but no, sir." 
 
 "What does me credit?" 
 
 "Your kindness of 'eart. Nothin' short of Christian, 
 I calls it; but it won't do. It's kind of you to try to shield 
 'im, but look at 'is face. That gives 'im away. Criminal 
 ain't in it." 
 
 As Hawk was going a pretty shade of violet by then, I 
 decided on swift measures, and putting the lantern down, 
 went to the rescue. Harker was about as light as half a ton 
 of coal, the larger half, but by throwing all my weight on his 
 
MY DOG AND I 31 
 
 manly chest I managed to roll him off Hawk. The latter was 
 naturally savage, and before I could stop him, he leapt astride 
 the policeman's waist and began to pommel him scientifically. 
 Thus offended, the majesty of the law began to thrash around 
 distressfully with its legs, and catching me sideways, threw 
 me half down the stairs, to the top of which our struggles had 
 led us. This riled me; so throwing caution to the winds, I 
 sailed in to Hawk's assistance. 
 
 Harker had somehow got hold of the banisters at the top, 
 and although I sat on his legs whilst Hawk played five fist 
 exercises on his chest and face, his arms were free, and with a 
 crash a portion of the banisters and rail came away in his 
 grasp, looking like some gigantic comb. With this the police- 
 man seemed likely to do some fancy work, which neither of 
 us relished. It was getting light enough to see that the 
 broken banister had left an unguarded pit, and the struggles 
 of Harker were bringing us nearer and nearer to the edge. 
 As it was, the strenuous rise and fall of his frame was making 
 me feel sea-sick, and the thought of what would be the end 
 of it all made me sicker still. 
 
 "You — pair — o' — g'rooters!" blew the struggling Harker. 
 "It's a plant to murder the p'lice. Let me get up, and I'll get 
 yer Ufe sentences each." 
 
 Hawk's answer was a bounce which shook all the breath 
 out of the prostrate man, and taking advantage of this, 
 Hawk reached behind him and got his revolver, which he 
 gingerly held to the startled face of his victim. 
 
 "Now, my friend," panted Hawk, "if we let you get up, 
 will you forget this little incident, which I assure you is 
 caused through a misunderstanding?" 
 
 Harker looked askance at the revolver, and choked a 
 faint "Yes." 
 
 With a satisfied smile my friend laid down his weapon. 
 
 "No!" suddenly shouted Harker, and gave a tremen- 
 dous writhe which brought us to the edge of the landing, 
 and with a sickening celerity over it — bang, crash, thud 
 — on to the stairs, where we lay a confused, silent mass. 
 
32 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Bang, crash, thiid- 
 
 Making quite sure I was dead, I lay still and awaited 
 developments. Then I heard Hawk's voice — 
 "Are you alive?" 
 ''I doubt it. Are you?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, I fell on something soft," 
 said Hawk; and now he came to men- 
 tion it I had done so also. 
 
 "It's him," wTnt on Hawk in a 
 matter-of-fact tone. 
 
 It was. The valiant Harker lay 
 under us unnaturally still. 
 
 "He's dead," continued Hawk 
 cheerily. "We'd better bury him in 
 the garden before it gets day, and say 
 we know nothing about it." 
 
 "You cold-blooded brute!" I whis- 
 pered fiercely. "I can feel his heart 
 beating. Help me drag him up to the 
 bedroom." 
 
 I've Hfted things — that Turkish bath amongst them — but 
 Harker was the pride of them all. It would have been better 
 had he been made on the w^ardrobe system, so he could have 
 been taken to bits and carried that way. When we had 
 got him to bed we sat exhaustedly gazing on him and each 
 other. 
 
 "Was there a burglar really?" I asked at last in a weary 
 voice. 
 
 "No," snapped Hawk. '' Didn't you see what it w^as?" 
 "I was, if I may say so, too busy to see much else than 
 stars. What was it, then? " 
 
 " Why, that infernal dog. He's asleep in the doorway now\ 
 Must have been creeping about the house to start with and 
 finished up by getting the front door wide open; then my 
 revolver going off w^as heard by this officious ass, who came 
 in to investigate." 
 
 "I might have known it was the Demon. But what about 
 this chap? Shake him up, and try to bring him round." 
 
MY DOG AND I 33 
 
 Hawk caught the senseless man by the collar and shook 
 him frenziedly. At last Harker opened his eyes. 
 
 "Leave off, Jane," he sighed, "I'll get up in a minute." 
 Then, seeing us, he gave a bewildered stare round the room. 
 " Where are I? What's happened? " 
 
 I must say Hawk had a really fine imagination. Without 
 pause he started — 
 
 "Why, my poor fellow, you've had an accident. Mr. 
 Dobbs and I were awaked by a scrimmage, and were just in 
 time to see you and two men roll over the banisters on to the 
 stairs. The scoundrels fell on you and knocked you senseless, 
 but being practically unharmed themselves — ahem! — made 
 good their escape." 
 
 "Eh?" asked the policeman with growing incredulity. 
 
 "And," went on Hawk blithely, "as you were coming to we 
 were debating whether to give you a sovereign for your 
 bravery and let the matter rest, for the men have got away 
 empty-handed, or to let you take up the case, which, as there 
 are no clues, will not do you any good." 
 
 "Ah!" said Harker with a shrewd look, "seein' as they're 
 gone, p'raps it ain't much use a-foUerin' them. But I must 
 report it, any'ow. Will you gents speak as to my bravery 
 and devotion t' duty?" 
 
 "Rather," said Hawk, thoughtfully rubbing a lump on his 
 head; and between us we then applied palm oil to Harker's 
 honorable scars, and flattery to his prowess. 
 
 It was quite seven o'clock when Harker left, beaming if 
 sore. We saw him to the door, where we found the Demon 
 whetting his appetite with the contents of my matutinal 
 milk-can. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Shows the blackness of things in general, and Uncle in particular. The dog 
 gets mixed up with old Mrs. Gihhle, and Uncle gets mixed np with some 
 varnish. Hawk's scheme to smooth things over and the way he did it 
 leads us to fly from the town until the incident is forgotten. 
 
 Hawk and I watched the receding figure of the valiant 
 Harker, and then turned our attention to the Demon, who, 
 having finished the milk, was trying a mouthful of doormat 
 till the next course came along. 
 
 ''To think," said Hawk with a yawn, "an ordinary pup Kke 
 that could have done so much in less than twenty-four hours. 
 So far as I can see, if he laid himself out properly he'd knock 
 an earthquake silly; and talking of dogs, I'm tired — a-weary, 
 my dear chap — and would rest, so I'll turn in and have a 
 snooze on your downy couch." 
 
 With which remark he turned abruptly and went upstairs. 
 That was just like Hawk. He knew I was a jolly sight tireder 
 than he was, and yet bagged the only bed I'd got before I 
 thought of doing so. If there's one thing I detest it is a lazy, 
 selfish spirit. 
 
 The Demon had ambled after Hawk, and I was about to 
 close the door, when a fat and blowsy maiden in the uniform 
 of servility, minus a few important buttons, amply made up 
 for by an unnecessary supply of haircurlers, scurried up with, 
 " Miss — Tectorial " — gasp — " told me — to — give — you " — 
 snort — "this 'ere, sir" — gasp — and thrust a note into my 
 hand. Then she wiped her heated brow with the corner of a 
 dainty apron of many strange tints, and coyly frisked off. 
 
 I took the note up with me, with a view to perusing it 
 quietly on the sofa, but I found my sitting-room already 
 occupied by the lady who "did" me up, as she called it, every 
 morning. I believe in the more aristocratic books such in- 
 dividuals are referred to as laundresses; but anyway, no one 
 
 34 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 35 
 
 could thus label my ancient dame truthfully by such a name, 
 for I doubt me much if she knew anything about washing, let 
 alone laundries. 
 
 Mrs. Gibble was the mother of the Emporium's keeper, 
 and was well matured to the extent of incipient mummyfica- 
 tion. Her complexion was a melancholy Whistler-like gray, 
 though the red rims of her eyes gave a dash of color to the 
 otherwise dreary prospect, and on bright days the sun would 
 catch the perpetual dewdrop at the end of her romanesque 
 nose, so that it flashed like a very jewel. Imagine a slightly 
 animated guttering candle, bent in the middle, and savoring 
 somewhat like the inside of a four-wheeler on a wet day, and 
 you have Mrs. Gibble. Her aged gums kept up a steady mow- 
 ing, a characteristic which had so interested me that I once 
 asked her worthy son what particular cud she ruminated on, 
 and was informed that " pore old mar chews terbaccer." There 
 he spoke sooth, for I incidentally found that it was my own to- 
 bacco the old lady masticated, and having no teeth to take up 
 valuable space in her dainty mouth, she could accommodate 
 about an ounce at a time. So I took drastic action. Steeping 
 some finely-shredded leather in the liquid obtained from boil- 
 ing three old pipes, I filled 
 my tobacco-jar with the prod- 
 uct. Next day the jar was 
 empty, but Mrs. Gibble still 
 chumped away like fun, and 
 continued doing so for weeks, 
 so I concluded that quid was 
 lasting her nicely. 
 
 On my entrance the dear 
 old soul was in a heap on the 
 table, with the Demon war- 
 dancing round her. 
 
 ''To think," she wailed, "as ^, ^ ^ ^ 
 
 ij T 1-5 J I, 1 -n J 1 he Demon war-danced round her. 
 
 m me old age 1 sh d be killed 
 
 by a feend of a 'ound! If I'd knowed you 'ad a dog mum- 
 
 budgettin' about I'd 'ave took the lor of ye." 
 
36 MY DOG AND I 
 
 As I could see there would be no chance of quietly reading 
 Pectora's note until her ladyship was gone, I hastened her 
 departure with half a crown, without prejudice on her side 
 to setting her son on me, and after reprimanding the Demon 
 wdth the biggest stick I could find, I opened the note, which 
 read as follows — 
 
 " You must help me out of the horrid scrape you have got 
 us all into. After your wicked bath, father asked me for 
 something to get the black off with, and in my agitation" — 
 
 agitation was good *'I gave him some varnish in mistake 
 
 for lavender water,* and now iVs fixed the black on. Of course, 
 I daren't tell him what it was, so I put it down to your nasty 
 stove. You must come up at once and quiet him, and undo 
 your atrocious handy work. I am sure if we could see through 
 the black he would be purple underneath, and his language 
 is awful, but Fve hidden all the knives. Considering your dog 
 is at the bottom of it all, the least you can do is to come at 
 once." 
 
 "Phew! Quieten him!" I gasped, as I collapsed on the 
 sofa. For a girl of her years Pectora was pretty cool. The 
 calm way she shifted the trouble on to me was worthy of a 
 Russian diplomat. Any way I looked at it, something would 
 have to be done, so I tore into the bedroom and shook the 
 snoring Hawk by the throat and yelled, "Wake up, you cal- 
 lous idiot, there's more trouble brewing, and you've got to 
 help." 
 
 " Whassermarrer? " gurgled the somnolent author. " Leggo, 
 gorrosleep. Seey' tomorr — snawk." 
 
 I dragged him from the bed, and flung him, sack-like, on 
 the floor, then soused him with the water jug's contents. 
 At this he actually did half wake up. 
 
 "All right, old man; never mind me, I can swim," he splut- 
 tered. " You go in the boat and — hullo, it's you, is it? What's 
 up now? More Demon? " 
 
 * Author's Note. — Copal varnish smells like lavender water. 
 
MY DOG AND I 37 
 
 *' Several of 'em. Read that." 
 
 I thrust the letter into his hand, and flung about feverishly 
 whilst he leisurely read it. 
 
 "Looks bad for you, my son," he chortled between fits of 
 laughter. ''Fancy having a nigger minstrel Nunky! Can 
 you see him playing the bones, or would the artistic coon 
 dance be more suited to his fairy personality? " 
 
 A well-planted kick sobered the idiotic fellow for a bit, and 
 he shook his head. 
 
 " Candidly, I don't like the look of it. I suppose you want 
 me to help you out of the mess? " 
 
 ''If you can. Get that romantic imagination to work and 
 suggest things before I do something desperate." 
 
 Hawk, who was still sitting on the floor in a pool of water, 
 pondered. At last his fish-like eye gleamed. 
 
 "Has Nunky ever seen me? " 
 
 "No, this black business is the first shock he's ever had. 
 Do you mean that the sight of you might complete things, 
 and finish his troubles for ever? " I asked bitterly. 
 
 "Don't be childish. I've a plan. I'll come with you, and 
 you introduce me as a physician you've specially got down 
 from London. That ought to please him! — nephewly love, 
 and all that, what? Then leave the rest to me." 
 
 "You'd make a fine-looking doctor, upon my word." 
 
 "As good a doctor as you are inventor, old boy. It's the 
 only way out.'* 
 
 "But what can you do when you get there?" 
 
 " That'll come to me shortly. Buck up and lead the way, 
 my child. This water's jolly cold to sit in. You've a funny 
 way of waking visitors up. I'll be dressed in a tick." 
 
 In a few minutes Hawk was ready. He had calmly bor- 
 rowed the best part of my wardrobe to dress the part, and 
 he wanted to add a pair of whiskers made from the goatskin 
 hearthrug, but I vetoed that, so he compromised on a pair of 
 spectacles left behind by Mrs. Gibble. 
 
 "What price me for an M. R. C. V. S.?" he asked proudly 
 as we hurried along. 
 
38 MY DOG AND I 
 
 *'F. R. C. S. you mean," I corrected. 
 
 "I like the other better. However, look here, you've got 
 to leave it to me when we get there, you know. No poking 
 your oar in. Now then, don't glare at me; ring the bell and 
 look grave." 
 
 I tore the bell out by the roots, and stood silently beside 
 the quondam doctor, with very few hopes for the successful 
 result of his mission. 
 
 Pectora opened the door herself. 
 
 "Oh, you've arrived at last! But who is this gentleman?" 
 she demanded in a cold voice. 
 
 Before I had time to introduce him, Hawk, impelled by 
 his hideous failing for romantic situations, raised his hat — 
 my hat — and spoke, to my intense horror, in broken English. 
 There he stood, bowing, grinning, and goggling, and splut- 
 tered a dialect that nobody other than a Scotch comedian 
 would attempt. 
 
 "Bermit me, young madam," he said. "My vriend here 
 dells me that his oncle has illnesses, so I to oberate have 
 come. My name, it is the Herr Doctor Gesoogenheimer, 
 from Berlin." 
 
 At the conclusion of this lunatic speech he resumed his 
 bowing till I positively itched to kick him, the more so as 
 Pectora actually beamed on the scoundrel. 
 
 "I'm so glad somebody sensible has come at last," she 
 smiled, and offered him her hand, which the scoundrel, taking 
 advantage of his assumed foreign character, reverently 
 kissed. And she never even objected! If I had ventured to 
 attempt such a familiarity, heaven knows what the result 
 would have been. 
 
 We had worked our way into the hall, and could already 
 hear dear Uncle's dulcet tones ascending in a plaint to the 
 high heavens, interspersed with many strange and quaint 
 turns of exclamation. Pectora went up to acquaint him with 
 our arrival, and I took advantage of her absence to remon- 
 strate with Hawk, who smiled fatuously as he gazed dreamily 
 after her. 
 
MY DOG AND I 39 
 
 "What a ripping girl!" he sighed. 
 
 "What a ripping ass you are, you mean!" I whispered 
 fiercely. "Call this helping me, by starting mountebank 
 tricks that would disgust a penny gaff audience? Don't 
 be a fool again. If you fail me there'll be an end of my hopes 
 in every direction." 
 
 Hawk glared through Mrs. Gibble's spectacles. 
 
 "See here, Dobbs, I'm to see you through my own way or 
 not at all. You've got to shut up and do as I tell you, you 
 ungrateful brute! Thank goodness, the girl's prepossessed 
 in my favor, and Hst! here she is." 
 
 She tripped towards us with a strained look in her eyes. 
 
 "He absolutely refuses to see you, Arthur," she said, "but 
 he will see the doctor. So perhaps your friend. Dr. " 
 
 " Gesoogenheimer," prompted the unblushing Hawk. 
 
 "won't mind coming up," finished Pectora, with a beam 
 
 upon him. 
 
 Hawk bowed, "I vill delighted be to accompany madam," 
 and with a backward glance at me, which led me to nearly 
 foam at the mouth, followed Pectora to the regions above. 
 
 Raging inwardly, I paced the hall until stopped by a 
 scratching at the front door. In the hope of finding someone 
 to kick on the doorstep, I opened the door, to admit — the 
 Demon. Obviously he had called to gloat. With this object 
 in view, he withdrew under the hall stand, in order to be as 
 far out of reach as possible, and I was on my knees trying to 
 goad him, by means of an umbrella, into the open, when the 
 sound of my cousin's voice made me turn. 
 
 "I'm really surprised at you, Arthur, playing on the floor 
 like a child when father's in such a serious state," she re- 
 marked severely. 
 
 "I'm trying to reach the dog," I explained. 
 
 " Oh, you brought it with you? You are quite inseparable ! 
 I am so glad you brought that nice, courtly doctor. His 
 manner is charming. He told me he'd soon put father right, 
 and he's going to stop to lunch." 
 
 This was too much. 
 
40 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "He's a precious doctor," I sneered. "Why " 
 
 "That's so Hke your horrid temper," broke in Pectora; 
 "why, he's the very man who is helping to put right all the 
 trouble you have brought on us. It's really painful to have 
 you grumbling about the house. I do wish you'd go and sit 
 in the garden until we hear the result of the doctor's examina- 
 tion." 
 
 She made this remark so pointedly, opening the door at 
 the same time, that I decided to go and spend the time wait- 
 ing in thinking what to call Hawk. The door closed behind 
 me, and opened again to let the Demon out, who seemed to 
 know what a mess of things he had made, for he kept well out 
 of reach. 
 
 I sat in that garden for some time thinking of what I'd 
 like to do to Hawk, and decided to buy a copy of F axe's Book 
 of Martyrs, in case I needed any further hints, until my atten- 
 tion was drawn to the library window, from which Pectora 
 was making imperious signs. 
 
 "Father says you are to go away at once," she said firmly. 
 "On no account will he have you bringing your dog into his 
 garden." 
 
 She shut the window abruptly before I had time to reply. 
 Bewilderment is a faint and feeble expression to denote my 
 state of mind. I felt broken on the wheel of destiny — 
 destiny being represented by Hawk in my best clothes and 
 Mrs. Gibble's glasses, who was planning some arch game 
 beyond my powers of imagination. I might as well go home. 
 At least Hawk would come back some time or other, and I 
 could wring from him some explanation. My brain positively 
 whirled, and running into the live stock dealer, who stopped 
 me to heatedly inquire about the attempted murder of his 
 maternal ragbag, did not calm me. 
 
 "It's a burning shame, that's wot it is," skirled Mr. Gibble 
 after me, and I quite agreed with him. 
 
 There was nothing to do but sit down until Hawk thought 
 fit to come in. At last I heard his footsteps on the stairs and 
 ran to meet him. 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 41 
 
 He was pretty sultry. 
 
 *' Explain yourself," I yelled, hauling him into the room, 
 and dashing Mrs. Gibble's spectacles off his nose. '^ What in 
 the name of all possessed 
 have you been up to with 
 my Uncle?" 
 
 He shook me off, sank into 
 a chair, and blew noisily. 
 
 ''Of all the ungrateful 
 chaps!" he said. "You 
 ought to thank your lucky 
 stars you had me here to 
 pull you through. If you'll 
 stop that raving I'll tell you 
 all about it. When your 
 charming cousin took me up 
 to the old boy's room he was 
 pretty sultry. I had about 
 as hard a job as I could manage to prevent roaring out 
 loud. Nunky looked like Uncle Tom doing the little Eva's 
 death scene. His noble face was coal black and his language 
 purple. Wanted to know where the pink hullabaloo you 
 were first, and particularly stated that immediately he was 
 out of bed he'd have you blacked like he was. Well, as I 
 saw he'd have a fit if I didn't stop him, I told him that at 
 least you had gone to the trouble and expense of engaging me 
 to put him right." 
 
 "Did you talk to him in that awful dialect?" 
 
 "Oh, yes; and he said he'd always heard foreigners were 
 in advance of the English in obscure medicine. I felt his 
 pulse for a dickens of a time whilst I thought of what to do 
 next, and at last a brilliant, a positively brilliant idea came to 
 me. I examined his ebony features, and shook my head 
 severely. 'Can you get it off?' asked the old boy. 'No,' 
 says I " 
 
 "You may cut out what you said in German to him; get 
 on with your tale in plain words," I interjected. 
 
 "All right. 'No,' says I, 'because there's nothing to get 
 
42 MY DOG AND I 
 
 off. The cause of your complexion being thus is shock, sir, 
 shock. The effect of jumping out of a warm Turkish bath 
 into the cold air has rendered' (here I brought in a few medical 
 terms, feeling safe that he, as a patent medicine joker, 
 wouldn't know if they were right or not) 'the solar plexus 
 susceptible to the oscillations of the diaphragm, if you follow 
 me?' He began to look a bit worried. 'Is it serious?' he 
 asked anxiously. ' It would have been fatal if I hadn't been 
 called in. As it is, I fear that the impregnation of the terra 
 incognita by the convolutions of the mastoid has set up a 
 highly infectious condition.' That fetched him. 'Who'd 
 ha' thought it! Shall I recover?' asks Nunky in a fearful 
 stew. 'If you will leave everything to me,' I said gravely. 
 'I will, I will,' he groaned. So the next thing I did, Dobbs, 
 was to go to the 'phone." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "To ring the hospital up." 
 
 "Ring the hospital up?" I asked in bewilderment. 
 
 "Yes," he replied in a fat, satisfied voice, "I rang 'em up 
 to send the ambulance at once. You see, half measures w^ere 
 no good; I'd simply got to help you out, and the only way was 
 to get Uncle safely stowed till he got cooled down. I ex- 
 plained to the hospital it was a bad case of scarlet fever, so 
 they sent the ambulance quickly. I packed the old boy in 
 comfy, and he's there by now." 
 
 "You ape! You son of an everlasting line of maniacs! 
 What induced you to do that? They're bound to find out 
 there's nothing wrong with him but a black face, and he'll be 
 savager than ever — absolutely raving." 
 
 Hawk pretended to look injured. 
 
 "If he was free to get about he'd have given you a warm 
 time, eh? Then the only thing was to prevent him getting 
 about, what? That I did, and now you object. Upon my 
 soul, you are a chap, Dobbs, a perfect bounder." 
 
 "But didn't he kick up a row at being sent off like that?" 
 
 "Well, he didn't like the idea at first, because he said on 
 principle he'd never mixed up with hospitals, being kind of in 
 
MY DOG AND I 43 
 
 opposition; and wanted to know if it couldn't be managed 
 without 'em knowing who he was. I told him I thought it 
 could be done that way " 
 
 ''Once started, obstacles are nothing to you," I remarked 
 bitterly. 
 
 "Maybe. Anyhow, he liked my scheme sufficiently to 
 hand me a fiver, and so he did go in anonymously. I simply 
 put him down as one Hezekiah Johnson, colored missionary, 
 subject to delusions. That'll take 'em some time to untangle, 
 what?" 
 
 I tore my hair and stamped about the room. This came 
 of trusting my affairs to a mad-brained ass like Hawk, whose 
 head was riotous with lunatic plots for sensational penny 
 dreadfuls. 
 
 ''When they do unravel Uncle's muddle and let him go it 
 will be something awful for me. He'll blame it all on to me, 
 of course," I moaned. 
 
 "You bet," chuckled Hawk complacently. "Shouldn't 
 be surprised if he killed you. I should bunk if I were you. 
 Pst! Get! Vanish! Take a prolonged holiday. Let him 
 simmer, Dobbs, old man." 
 
 "You would?" 
 
 "Rather. He who blacks his uncle and runs away, will 
 live to black another day. I advise you to try other scenes 
 for a bit." 
 
 "That's not a bad idea," I said bitingly, "and I'll follow 
 it. How you will get on, you best know. Kidnapping an 
 elderly gentleman, personating a doctor, and thus obtaining 
 a fee under false pretenses, are things you will be congratu- 
 lated upon on all sides. I know the medical profession like 
 chaps to do it, and Uncle will never rest until he has expressed 
 his thanks to, or rather on, you." 
 
 Hawk bounded out of his arm-chair, his fat little body 
 quivering. 
 
 "My stars!" he screamed. "I never thought of that. I 
 wish I'd left your infernal affairs alone. Pretty fine thing for 
 me, this is, blessed if it isn't." 
 
44 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "You're right, my boy. It'll put all your sensational 
 writing in the shade when they do catch you. Look well on 
 the placards. 'Hack Writer Poses as Doctor, and Kidnaps 
 Wealthy Manufacturer ! ' " 
 
 "Oh, shut up! You blacked him first, you know. We're 
 pretty well in the same boat. Let's join forces and flit to- 
 gether." 
 
 "Needs must," I assented wearily. 
 
 Hawk was at once the energetic novelist, working out the 
 flight of a character beset. 
 
 " Right. We'll reckon it'll be an hour before he's discovered 
 to be physically well; two more hours for explaining how a 
 balmy negro happens to be a local magnate; another hour to 
 verify it. Roughly, before the fun begins we've got four 
 clear hours. One will serve to put a few things together and 
 three to get clear of the town." 
 
 As his own luggage consisted of a small handbag, I con- 
 cluded the things he referred to meant mine. They did. He 
 helped me pack in a mad way of his own. 
 
 "Put on as many clothes as you can, saves carrying," he 
 puffed, struggling into two of my coats, "and fill your 
 pockets with any oddments you want. Have you much 
 money?" 
 
 I produced my wealth, which he took and calmly 
 pocketed. 
 
 "Better let one of us do the paying, saves bother," he 
 explained. 
 
 At this point the Demon wandered into the room and sat 
 down to watch us. I'd forgotten him for the moment, and 
 drew Hawk's attention to the pup. 
 
 "Oh, bring him along! Let him share our miseries. Be- 
 sides, it will be best to leave no clue." 
 
 At last we were ready. Hawk's natural embonpoint was 
 not improved by two overcoats wrapped round it, nor was 
 the hairbrush I carried in my tailcoat pocket comfortable; 
 but we had no time to think of trifles. 
 
 "We'll cut across the fields to the junction and put them 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 45 
 
 off the track, as they're sure to inquire at Middewick Station 
 first," blew Hawk, as I locked the house up. 
 On the door I pinned a card, inscribed — 
 
 "Gone to France on urgent business, ^^ 
 
 and noticed with an uneasy feeling that directly we moved 
 off Mr. Gibble darted from his cave across the road, to spell 
 it out with the aid of a dirty and distrustful finger. 
 
 We dodged round a corner, and came to a stile which gave 
 on a footpath leading across the 
 fields. The Demon slipped through, 
 I climbed over, and the ever- 
 dramatic Hawk, a ridiculous little 
 figure, shook his clenched fist at 
 the sleepy town, muttered "Curse 
 ye, foiled!" and vaulted over, land- 
 ing gracefully on the Demon. The 
 latter set up a delirious yelping, to 
 the tune of which I assisted the 
 recumbent Hawk on to his legs. 
 
 Looking ahead, we then simul- 
 taneously sighted Pectora coming 
 along the path towards us. Flight. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Which describes our flight, and an unexpected meeting with my cousin. The 
 dog catches a wasp at the crucial moment, and assists Hawk to have a 
 fit, which gets rid of my relative and enables us to proceed. A cross- 
 country run with a few checks brings us to the station, where we overhear 
 a conversation, which causes us to hide under a carriage seat to avoid 
 Marker who, however, chooses our carriage, as does the dog. 
 
 The path was long, winding and flower-sprinkled, a most 
 charming path in every way, and Pectora was yet a good 
 hundred yards from us; but the obvious fact remained that 
 unless we scuttled over the stile again into the town we 
 should have to meet her, and it occurred to me that after 
 recent events our flight might require considerable explana- 
 tion 
 
 ''The Dickens is in this blessed affair!" I exclaimed to 
 Hawk, whose appearance was not improved by a miscella- 
 neous collection of dust and grass on his back. 
 
 ''We'll see it through. You play up to me. By the way, 
 what did I call myself? Doctor who? " said Hawk, adopting 
 an easy air which made him look a particularly evil anarchist. 
 
 "Some German name," I replied testily, keeping an eye 
 on Pectora, who, as she was reading, had not yet noticed us. 
 
 " German be blowed! It was Irish. I distinctly remember 
 saying 'Begorrah' several times," he rejoined. 
 
 "I'll say something stronger than that in a minute if you 
 don't pull yourself together. You gave a ghastly imitation 
 of a stage German. An Irishman wouldn't play such silly 
 foreign tricks as to kiss a girl's hand like you did." 
 
 "Wouldn't he?" asked Hawk in a reminiscent tone. 
 " Well, perhaps I am wrong. Yes, now I come to think of it, 
 I was Scotch. I remember when Nunky was talking about 
 you I said, 'Hoots, mon, dinna haver so.' Jovel she's 
 getting nearer. I must think quick." 
 
 46 
 
MY DOG AND I 47 
 
 I was at a complete loss, and decided to leave him to ex- 
 plain things, so I dropped behind on the pretense of fondling 
 the Demon, who, thinking I meant mischief, withdrew 
 growling. 
 
 Pectora was quite close by then, and Hawk, raising his 
 hat floridly, went up to her, lost his head completely, and 
 addressed the astonished girl in this way — 
 
 '^Weel, weel, an' wha'd ha' thocht av matin' yez the noo, 
 me darlint — beg pardon, meant Miss Boscobel. Losh! but 
 it's deloighted t' see ye Oi am entoirly, an' it's the glad day 
 for me t' be danderin' doon the burn with yez, indade. Oh, 
 hang it " he trailed off in confused silence. 
 
 "Why Doctor Gesoogenheimer," exclaimed Pectora, 
 *'I am surprised to meet you! Where are you going? I 
 thought you said you would go to the hospital with father; 
 and fancy going off so quickly without saying good-by, and 
 letting me thank you." 
 
 It looked to me the good Hawk had got himself a little 
 involved on his own account, and he wasn't improving mat- 
 ters by gaping fishily at my cousin. 
 
 "And Arthur, too," went on Pectora. "What are you 
 doing in the fields, I wonder? " 
 
 This suddenly set Hawk off again. 
 
 "That's it, dear lady," he rambled, "we came — kommed, 
 I mean — to pick daisies, you know. Lovely flowers, what? " 
 
 "Daisies? " she asked, with raised eyebrows. 
 
 "Yes. For a wreath, you know. Varra appropriate, 
 hein?" 
 
 I saw he had completely lost himself, so I broke in 
 
 "You see, Pectora, the doctor was so upset at seeing poor 
 Uncle this morning, he's had a kind of stroke, and I'm taking 
 him for a gentle walk. He often suffers like this, and picking 
 daisies seems to sooth him." 
 
 "Really! " said she, eyeing Hawk, who certainly looked as 
 if he was a paralytic in the last stage of lunacy. "I am so 
 sorry. Won't he come up to the house and lie down for a 
 little? " 
 
48 MY DOG AND 1 
 
 I jumped at this opening. 
 
 "Just the thing. I'll bring him along shortly. He'll be 
 much better when he's picked a few flowers." 
 
 I was blindly groping for a way to get rid of her. Time 
 was getting on, and every moment brought my rampant 
 Uncle's release nearer. 
 
 "That's right," she said kindly. " I'll come with you if you 
 won't be long." 
 
 "Great snakes! " I gasped to myself, "shall we ever get 
 away? " 
 
 Hawk was standing with a fatuous simper on his heated 
 face, rubbing the fur of his top hat the wrong way. Would 
 nothing happen? 
 
 Something did. The Demon had it seemed fallen foul of 
 a wasp, and was desirous of advising the world of his annoy- 
 ance thereat. He began operations with a wild howl and a 
 leap which knocked Hawk sprawling, and then marathoned 
 into the distance. Pectora happened to be looking the other 
 way, and did not notice the cause of Hawk's fall, so I made a 
 final effort. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" I shouted, rushing to my prostrate friend, 
 "he's fallen down in a fit. (Lie still, you fool, and groan; 
 roll your eyes too.) I've seen him before like this, Pectora, 
 and he's always dangerous. Leave us before he starts strug- 
 gling!"_ 
 
 At this point in my excitement I accidentally trod on one 
 of his ears, causing him to give a terrific yell and plunge. 
 Happily this was more than my cousin could stand. 
 
 " Be gentle with him, Arthur, and I'll run home and get the 
 spare room ready for the poor man." 
 
 Then she went, and directly she was out of sight Hawk 
 arose choking with wrath. 
 
 "You've made her think I'm a kind of serious madman," 
 he hissed. 
 
 "Rather. She'll think twice about letting you make up to 
 her again, that is if you get out of jail before she is an old 
 
MY DOG AND I 49 
 
 He spluttered for a second or two, and then lashed out at 
 me in a rage. 
 
 "You luckless puppy," fumed he; "after my kindness 
 too. I'm going to give you the soundest thrashing you ever 
 had." 
 
 Like a tub he rolled himself at me, and locked in a savage 
 embrace, we fell to the ground. Somehow Hawk got me under, 
 and with a wild gleam in his eye was just going to plant his fist 
 in mine, when an approving voice behind us remarked in 
 husky tones 
 
 "That's it, guvnor, paste 'im one! " 
 
 Hawk scrambled up, and so did I, to see who our audience 
 was, and were met by the view of Mr. Gibble, who rubbed his 
 hands joyfully, then wagged a dirty forefinger at me. 
 
 "'Opping it, was yer, Mr. Dobbs? Doin' the slope, hey? " 
 Thinks you, I'll set my bloomin' dorg on a pore, inoffensless 
 ole lady, an' slide orf afore she can get lawful compersation, 
 eh? Oh, no! Little Georgy's goin' to 'ave 'is rights, 'e is," 
 said Mr. Gibble banteringly. "'E's goin' to collect them 
 damages in person, Mr. Dobbs, and I calls the other gent to 
 witness of em, the 'ole truth and nothin' but it," he finished 
 with legal unction, and took his coat off. 
 
 "You're a fool!" snapped Hawk, glancing at his watch. 
 "If Mr. Dobbs's dog happened to frighten your mother, he 
 will compensate her in due course; but he won't be intimi- 
 dated by a bully. We're in a hurry, so clear out before we 
 wipe the path with you." 
 
 " Wot? You wipe the path with me? Why, you insnifigant 
 little 'ound, I'd kill you with a look. And your bloomin' dorg 
 to. You and the dorg," he snorted scornfully. 
 
 Now the Demon in his flight had transferred the wasp 
 from his coat to his mouth, where it was speedily getting to 
 work in the stinging way, so that the unfortunate dog, who 
 for some time had been madly circling the field, became ab- 
 solutely frenzied. In some way his circles had drawn in, and 
 just as the challenge left the live stock dealer's hps he came in 
 the Demon's line of flight. 
 
5iO MY DOG AND I 
 
 Catching Mr. Gibble full in the waistcoat, the Demon 
 took him in his stride, and he collapsed. A gross man, this 
 knocked every puff of breath out of him. He lay inert. The 
 shock of the Demon on top of the shock to his prowess had 
 placed him hors de combat. We stood regarding him. 
 
 Hawk snorted grimly — 
 
 " We're getting on. Looks as though he'd broken his neck. 
 At this rate half Middewick will be thirsting for our blood." 
 
 "Come on, don't chatter. Uncle will be out in another 
 two hours or so. Run if you can," I urged, making a splurg- 
 ing start. 
 
 Blowing and panting, tripping and gasping, we wearily 
 dragged across field after field. A playful bull detained us for 
 some ten minutes in one of them, and was only appeased by 
 Hawk leaving his hat (my best topper) as a souvenir; and 
 when we did get to the junction, we were at our last stagger. 
 Whilst Hawk fussed at the ticket-office, I wandered on to the 
 platform, and sank on a seat under the Stationmaster's 
 office window, and endeavored to bring my shattered mind 
 to bear on the situation we were in. 
 
 Twenty-four hours ago I was a happy if useless inventor, 
 with prospects from a wealthy avuncular relative. Now I 
 was a scurrier on the face of the earth, whilst my Uncle, so 
 far as I could gather, was masquerading as an Ethiopian of 
 unstable mind. True, the dog Pectora had planted on me 
 began the trouble, but it was without doubt Hawk who had 
 brought matters to the boil. If it had not been for his 
 bouncing a night's lodging out of me, and so mixing up in 
 things, everything would have smoothed down, and a fit tie 
 pumice stone and sandpaper would have got Uncle's com- 
 plexion off. I began to understand why, when pilfering 
 errand boys came before the bench, they blamed their wicked- 
 ness on to the reading of cheap literature, for here was a 
 strong case in point, the writing of "thunder" tales had re- 
 acted on Hawk. He was so impregnated with violent ideas, 
 he could not live without giving them expression; and it 
 seemed to me if I had much more Hawk I could not live at 
 
MY DOG AND I 51 
 
 all. Behind us lay a gory path of victims — maimed police, 
 senseless live stock purveyors, hospital patients, and beldams 
 who chewed tobacco and gibbered of the law's terrors. 
 
 Before us it didn't do to look. All things were possible, 
 and with a dominating ass to direct our fortunes it was odds 
 but we should quickly attain the celebrity of the illustrated 
 poHce papers. However, at all events, I might hope for an 
 hour or two's respite. 
 
 "And, Mr. 'Umbin, as I was sayin', they then threw me 
 over them banisters," came a voice from the Stationmaster's 
 room. 
 
 I pricked up my ears. Was this a coincidence, or was it 
 the local policeman we had dealt with? My doubts were set 
 at rest when another voice answered — 
 
 "'Lor, Mr. Harker, did they? I hope — I mean I suppose 
 they 'urt you? " 
 
 "Yes," went on the first speaker, whose voice I recognized 
 as Barker's, "not arf they didn't. And the wust of it wos the 
 Inspector told me I wos to blame for not collarin' them burg- 
 lars. 'Course, I knoo they was all my eye; but Dobbs an' 
 'is friend looked like makin' me look a fool if I says there 
 wasn't no burglars, and there it was. I tell you, I felt a bit 
 upset when the Inspector orders me to trace them burglars 
 wot don't exist or be reprimanded." 
 
 "Hard on you, I must say," remarked the Stationmaster 
 in sorrowful and sympathetic tones, rather spoilt by an under- 
 lying chuckle. 
 
 "But," continued Harker, "I got an idea, mind ye. I'm 
 seeposed to make an arrest, am I? And there warn't no 
 burglars. Yet if I admits I simply got hustled by Dobbs an' 
 Co. my tale of a desprit encounter with four armed saviges 
 will look a bit silly, see? So what I'm agoin' to do is to arrest 
 this Dobbs an' his friend on suspicion of harborin' dangerous 
 criminals d'rectly I can get a warrant. They've said as the 
 fellers was there. Very well, let 'em prove what they wos 
 there for. Good, aint it? " 
 
 Here was something else cropping up to stay our journey 
 
52 MY DOG AND I 
 
 with a vengeance. Without doubt, if Harker saw us, despite 
 not having a warrant, he would act at once, and I can see the 
 sort of joyful scrimmage Hawk would make of the arrest. Ten 
 to one he would throw Harker on the line in front of a train 
 and then throttle the Stationmaster to round the business 
 off; for his notion of quietly getting out of an unpleasant 
 position always seemed to demand at least one violent assault, 
 and I had no fancy for being charged as his accessory. 
 
 And here came Hawk with the tickets, whistling pot- 
 valiantly, throwing superb glances around as who should say, 
 ''Behold a second Napoleon! a champion of the strong arm, 
 and an upholder of 'Up Guards and at 'em' principles." 
 Sighting me, he laughed fatly, and sank on the seat beside 
 me. 
 
 "Once aboard the train," he began in rollicking tones, 
 at which I clapped an insistent hand over his mouth. 
 ''Listen, and shut upl" I whispered. 
 He removed my hand from his classic features, and was 
 just going to raise his voice when Harker began again. 
 
 "It'll be a pretty Httle case," cackled the pride of the 
 Middewick force. "Dobbs's partner is a stranger in the 
 town. Suspicious point that. Then Dobbs is 
 knowed to be an inventor, so wot about bombs? 
 I fancy a remark about Anarchists '11 make the 
 bench look sideways at Dobbs, Mr. 'Umbin, eh? 
 Then I've 'card that animal dealer Gibble a- 
 grumblin' to-day about assaults. Why," he said 
 indignantly, "it's a dooty to the public to run 'im 
 * in, a positive dooty. Very likely when we come 
 to ransack 'is place we shall find any amount of things." 
 "What things?" queried the Stationmaster. 
 "Oh, all sorts; skelingtons, p'raps. Howsomever, I'm 
 a-goin' up to Scotland Yard to-day to see if there's any 
 record of 'is friend, to start with." 
 Hawk looked into my face. 
 
 "It's our dear old bobby! Shows a nasty mean spirit after 
 that tip, don't it? Well, he's not going to catch this child." 
 
MY DOG AND I 53 
 
 "But he'll spot us getting into or out of the train," I said 
 anxiously. 
 
 Hawk pointed to a train which had been standing in the 
 station for some time. 
 
 "There's our train, my boy! What we'd better do is to 
 get in now and hide under the seat until she starts. He'll 
 never dream we're on the way to London if he doesn't see us 
 get in, and we can easily dodge into the crowd at the terminus 
 before he spots us." 
 
 "I don't fancy getting under carriage seats," I complained. 
 
 But a movement in the Stationmaster's room as Harker 
 lumbered to his feet made me sink personal longings for com- 
 fort in the important necessity of seeking cover. Hawk 
 scurried off, a remarkable little object. Anything more un- 
 like the popular idea of an author it would be hard to find. 
 He was enveloped in two overcoats, which, belonging to me, 
 fitted him skirtily, only a flash of plaid trouser indicated that 
 he was not a little fat, elderly female. A hat of the sort 
 known as Deerstalker, bought to replace my topper detained 
 by the bull, and bought too without the pettifogging detail 
 of size, obscured his head and most of his face. He wore 
 patent-leather boots, which gave an air of smartness to an 
 otherwise crude appearance, and the legs of a pair of pink 
 silk pajamas dangled rakishly from one pocket, a comb and 
 tooth-brush perkily keeking out of the other. 
 
 I followed warily, wondering how on earth, garbed as he 
 was, he hoped to escape notice, and thanked goodness I at 
 least was not so conspicuous. A passing glance in the mirror 
 on an automatic machine, however, rather daunted me, for 
 it appeared that in my run across country I had garnered 
 many things, including some well-mashed toadstoals on my 
 back, to replace which, on the principle of give and take, I 
 had left the best part of a coat tail behind. My collar had 
 broken loose from the detaining stud at the back of my neck, 
 and rode easily up and down. A bramble-scratched face and 
 a rapidly-growing lump on the forehead further detracted 
 from a well-groomed look. It occurred to me Hawk and I 
 
54 MY DOG AND I 
 
 would make fine substitutes for some of the Salvation Army's 
 Darkest England recruits, and it was a great relief to notice 
 Hawk, after a careful look round, open a carriage door and 
 climb in. Hastily following, I was in time to see the flash of 
 a trousered leg as he dived under the seat. 
 
 "Duck, you fool! there's someone coming," he muttered. 
 
 So with one last look at the sun, I scrambled under the 
 other seat and lay in a collection of dust which must have 
 been the accumulations of old coaching days, carefully pre- 
 served and brought up to date and laid down for my especial 
 benefit. 
 
 We both lay facing the door, foolishly left open in our 
 scurry, and by twisting my neck to the point of dislocation, 
 and laying one ear in the dust, I could catch a glimpse of a 
 perspective of platform considerably spoilt by the nearing 
 figures of Harker and the Stationmaster. 
 
 My involuntary exclamation of dismay found no response. 
 Hawk was calmly sleeping — another proof of his utter de- 
 pravity. 
 
 I knew perfectly well that Harker would choose our car- 
 riage. It was the worst thing that could happen, so it was 
 bound to occur. It did. He reached the door chattering 
 volubly, and depositing a carpet bag directly over my head, 
 clambered in after it. 
 
 "Well, Mr. 'Arker," said the Stationmaster, who was idly 
 pulling the window up and down, "for your sake, I 'ope you'll 
 catch those owdacious chaps. We want something to liven 
 us up in the way of a law case. Why, we 'avent 'ad one 
 since the school children pushed you in the canal." 
 
 Harker gave an indignant snort at this remark, and hastily 
 strove to change the subject. 
 
 "When do this train start?" he demanded. 
 
 Mr. 'Umbin made a rapid calculation, and replied — 
 
 "If the express comes through to 'er time, and the 2.5 for 
 Middewick gets shunted round to number three, and the 
 guard gets back from 'is dinner all right, she'll be off inside 
 ten minutes." 
 
MY DOG AND I 55 
 
 "I've got a proper thirst. Should I 'ave time?" queried 
 Harker anxiously. 
 
 "Depends 'ow much you want to quench it. I never saw 
 you do any good to that thirst of yours under a quart," said 
 the Stationmaster. 
 
 "I'll chance it," decided Harker, who got out and ambled 
 hurriedly down the platform. 
 
 The Stationmaster trailed after him, and once more we 
 were alone. Would he miss the train after all? If it started 
 in ten minutes punctually there was a chance. I screwed 
 down in the dust again and kept a feverish eye on the stretch 
 of platform, deserted now save for some milk-cans. To my 
 excited imagination they had a sinister look, and every 
 minute I expected to see something come from behind them 
 to our further discomfort. Three of the possible ten minutes 
 had flown. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Shows how Harker meant mischief, and the obliquity of the dog nearly shows 
 us up. Harker has a brilliant idea, and so does Hawk. The law and 
 the lunatic. Hawk as Mad Willie and Harker as a canary. Hawk^s 
 victory, and Harker's vanishing. We reach Londofi. 
 
 Absolute quiet reigned in our carriage until a snore from 
 Hawk broke the silence. I looked away from the milk-cans 
 for a second, and noticed he lay on his back, two inches deep 
 in fluff, and slept like a British navvy on a road-mending con- 
 tract. When I turned my gaze to the 
 cans again I saw the Demon sliding 
 round the corner of them, tired but 
 eager, and obviously thirsting for the 
 companionship of his devoted master. 
 It did not take him long to reach our 
 open door, and with a gleeful snuffle 
 to jump in. He had the sense to keep out of my reach, and 
 busied himself making a comfortable nest on the seat farthest 
 away from the platform. He had found me, and that sufl5ced 
 him. All he wanted was to be on the spot so as to miss nothing 
 of the show when I next got into other people's troubles. As 
 Harker was not yet in sight, I ventured a stealthy hand 
 towards my slumbering fellow runaway, and tweaked his 
 nose violently. 
 
 Hawk awoke with a start, striking his head on the seat 
 above him. 
 
 "I shall speak to the captain about these scandalously low 
 bunks!" he said wrathfully. 
 
 "Wake up; you're under a carriage seat, and Harker will 
 be here again in a minute," I warned him. 
 
 He was at once the alert criminal, and while I informed 
 him of what had taken place during his snooze, matured a 
 plan. 
 
 56 
 
MY DOG AND I 57 
 
 "Don't worry," he said cheerfully; "we'll wait till the 
 train starts, and chuck him out of the window. That will be 
 soon settled." 
 
 "Once and for all, I won't be party to any more of your 
 knockabout antics, Hawk," I said sternly, with my one avail- 
 able eye on the platform. "As it is, you have dragged me 
 low enough without further madness. What about the dog? 
 If we turn him out they'll spot him, and conclude we're here." 
 
 " Get him under the seat then. Here! Pstt! Good pup, 
 coom along," said Hawk persuasively; and I joined in with 
 aheated whisper, "Cats! Pstt! Rats! Find 'em! Seek 'em 
 out!" 
 
 Although the Demon had remained unmoved by Hawk's 
 blandishments, he responded to my invitation to seek 'em 
 out by leaping from the seat and squirming under it. He 
 then began worrying my remaining coat tail, the one which 
 held the hair-brush; but at least he was hidden, and with his 
 mouth thus occupied could not make much noise. 
 
 To my intense relief the engine now gave a preliminary 
 snort, and backed restively. The train was about to start, 
 and Harker, still quenching that prize thirst of his, would be 
 left behind. The strain of watching had made my eye 
 water, so that I was forced to close it for a moment, and in 
 that moment my undustchoked ear caught the ramping 
 clatter of regulation boots. 
 
 "Here comes old cockalorum," grunted Hawk in a com- 
 monplace tone, as though he were rather pleased than other- 
 wise. 
 
 A shrill whistle from the engine, and another backward 
 plunge, followed by a forward movement, told me the train 
 was actually starting, and I almost dared to think we were 
 safe, when with a horrible spurt Harker caught the swinging 
 carriage door, sprawled in, and slammed it after him. He 
 soused down, blowing hard, and imagining himself to be 
 alone, soliloquized. 
 
 , "Caught 'un," he remarked happily. "Thought the 
 bl^rmed thing 'd go without me. That ale were very tasty. 
 
58 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Wish I'd 'ad more time. Can't get the flavor to rights till 
 the fourth glass; leastways, not the properest. Now I'll 'ave 
 a nap, so's to turn up at the Yard nice an' fresh. If I brings 
 this case off I can see promotion. I've always 'ad my eye on 
 'im since I took some of 'is uncle's cough-drops. Mystery 
 runs in famihes. Ullo! Ullo!" he broke off, catching sight 
 of the Demon coming from under the seat with my hair-brush 
 in his mouth. 
 
 ''Wot 'ave we 'ere?" asked Harker thoughtfully, ''Oos 
 little Teddy Bear are you? This is the latest, pups traveling 
 
 by theirselves, 'air-brush and all. Come 'ere, my little feller, 
 and tell Mr. 'Arker all about it." He laid an enormous hand 
 on the Demon and lifted him on to the seat. ''Nice 'air-brush, 
 silver monograph and all. D. A. or A. D. is it? A. D. would 
 stand for A Dog, so it would," he chortled. "I seem to 'ave 
 seen you somewheres before. Where was it? Why last night, 
 of course. On the doorstep you was. Must belong to Dobbs. 
 That's it, Arthur Dobbs that A. D. stands for! Lor', if you 
 
MY DOG AND I 59 
 
 could only speak an' say where your master be! But," went 
 on Marker, an idea slowly germinating in his bucolic mind, 
 ''if you're in the train no doubt 'e is too. And 'is pal. Now 
 I wonder if there's a communication cord 'ere? If there is 
 I'll stop the train in the name of the Lor, and rout un out." 
 
 He slowly walked across the carriage and hung out of the 
 window to see if, as he hoped, there was any means of carrying 
 out his intention. Harker was a large man, as I have ex- 
 plained, whom a habit of always taking three helpings of 
 every dish that came his way had made extremely wide; 
 hence whilst it was fairly easy to squeeze the upper part of 
 his body through the open window, it would be another and 
 lengthy matter to struggle back again. 
 
 During Marker's ruminations Mawk had been making a 
 series of the most extraordinary signals to me. What he 
 meant by screwing one eye up, and opening and shutting his 
 hand convulsively, then wrinkling his nose and squinting 
 whilst he clutched at his throat, escaped me, unless he desired 
 to express his envy of Marker's recent quenching operations. 
 
 Directly the policeman's back was turned my friend crept 
 from under the seat, and with a well-planted kick urged me 
 to rise too; but I wasn't going to be draw^n into taking pot 
 shots at telegraph posts with pohceman ammunition if I 
 knew it, and intimated this to Mawk. 
 
 ''Won't help, you bounder?" he whispered. "Very well, 
 you lie there and leave it to me. I'll show you what a little 
 common sense will do, old chap. I'm going to trust to the 
 fact that Marker won't recognize me, for he only saw me in 
 my nightie, as it were, and if I don't give him a shaking up, 
 never call me a writer of fiction again." 
 
 "You may play what fool games you like as long as you 
 don't drag me into it. Mere I am and here I stop, and I'm 
 getting quite used to the dust." 
 
 "Right. You just fancy it's all settled and have a sleep. 
 I'll fix this Johnny all right," he murmured, sitting down in 
 Marker's seat with an insane grin on his face. 
 
 "There ain't no cord there," said Marker, carefully back- 
 
6o MY DOG AND I 
 
 ing into the carriage again. " So I'll try the tother side. Good 
 'Eavens!" he gasped, catching sight of the figure of Hawk, in 
 all its panoply a weird figure indeed, especially after some 
 time under a railway seat. ^' Where did you come from? It 
 ain't that ale, is it? I thought I noticed a funny taste, too. 
 Now I wonder if you be a man or a feller in the pink rat line? 
 Where did you come from? Blessed if I touch anything 
 stronger than lemonade if this is wot 'appens." 
 
 As he spoke he was cautiously approaching the silent 
 Hawk, when that genius let off a hideous cackling laugh. 
 
 *' Don't do that, mister," pleaded Harker, who retreated 
 in disorder. "Give a civil answer to a civil question. Who 
 are you?" 
 
 "Mad WiUie," repUed Hawk, with another comforting 
 screech. 
 
 "Eh?" demanded Harker in a shrill voice. 
 
 "Mad Willie, they call me," repHed Hawk, and began 
 sidhng along the seat, enlivening his progress with a few 
 choice catawauls. 
 
 My sense of humor suddenly got the better of me, and but 
 for a pound of dust entering my mouth as I opened it to 
 guffaw, I should have roared aloud at Hawk's new scheme 
 to pretend a madness he had as yet not quite arrived at. I 
 spent the next minute trying to choke softly, and realizing 
 what numerous flavors dust possessed. 
 
 All this while Harker was looking piteously about for some 
 means of escape. Hawk sidled nearer and nearer, warm- 
 ing to his work as he saw the policeman didn't recognize 
 him. 
 
 "Come and play with poor Willie," he said ingratiatingly. 
 
 "Certainly not," stammered Harker. "I'm seeprised at 
 you asking such a thing. They ought to be ashamed of 
 theirselves letting you out, they did." 
 
 "Come and play with Willie," yelled Hawk explosively, 
 and burst into another howl. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" ejaculated Harker. "This is all right, being 
 shut up with a loony. Wish he was back in his padded room. 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 6i 
 
 Where did I read they was as strong as four men, when 
 upset?" 
 
 "There's a monkey crawHng up your back," exclaimed 
 Hawk pleasantly, at which Marker made a frantic jump on to 
 the seat. 
 
 " He's goin' to 'ave an attack, I know 'e is. P'raps, though, 
 'e ain't a dangerous one," he mut- 
 tered. ''Only playful. 'Ere, Willie," 
 he stammered, ''wot did they put 
 you in the nice big comfy 'ouse for, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Willie broke a policeman's neck 
 because he wouldn't play with him," 
 babbled Hawk. " Willie loves police- 
 men if they'll play with him." 
 
 A shuddering groan burst from 
 Harker as he wildly leaped for the 
 rack, into which he struggled pain- 
 fully. 
 
 Hawk looked up with a grin and 
 clapped his hands. 
 
 "That's nice, you're goin' to play 
 then. What game is it? " 
 
 Harker 's eyes rolled wildly as he 
 endeavored to think. Such a position and what to do in it he 
 had never dreamed of. At last he managed to say — 
 
 "We'll play pets, shall we? I'm in a cage, see?" 
 
 "What a pretty game," giggled Hawk. "You're a dicky 
 bird, are you? " 
 
 "Yes, a pretty little canary a-warblin' in 'is golden cage," 
 panted Harker. The strain on his inventive faculties was 
 awful. "A — a bird, Willie," he warned, "wot mustn't be 
 touched on no account, for fear of spoilin' his lovely feathers." 
 
 I could imagine Hawk to be enjoying himself intensely. 
 I will say this for him, he never assaulted anyone who crossed 
 his path if there were an easier way of removing them. In the 
 present instance he seemed to think mental torture would 
 
 Mad Willie. 
 
62 MY DOG AND I 
 
 effect his purpose if he only kept the interest up, so licking 
 anticipatory lips, he said — 
 
 "Nice bird. Now WilHe wdll be a pussy cat." 
 
 ''What for?" asked Marker with much concern; and as he 
 noticed Hawk was realistically imitating a cat preparing a 
 leap for a birdcage, he hurriedly added, "'Ere, don't let's 
 play this game any more. It's silly. Let's play somethin' 
 else." 
 
 "All right, we'll play menageries," acquiesced the pseudo 
 Willie. 
 
 "Certainly, sir,", breathed the wretched man. "I'll be 
 wot?" 
 
 "You shall be a piece of meat, an' I'll be a roaring lion," 
 said Hawk definitely. "We'll have a game it's feedin' time, 
 shall we?" 
 
 We were approaching a station, and Harker fervidly 
 muttered — 
 
 "If on'y I can keep him playin' about till I can get away, 
 I don't care wot 'appens about Dobbs. I'll go 'ome by the 
 next train and take to my bed permanent. I can feel myself 
 a-goin' gray," whilst he flogged his brain for some way of 
 prevaricating. " I think that's a silly game too, Willie. I tell 
 you wot," he hurried on, with a feverish attempt at enthusi- 
 asm, "let's play 'ide and seek, shall we?" 
 
 "How?" asked WilHe, who was prowling up and down the 
 narrow passage between the seats in his latest character of a 
 hungry lion. How he kept a straight face was more than I 
 could understand. 
 
 "Why," explained Harker, "you cover your eyes up, an' 
 I'll 'ide, see? Then when I call out, you must look for me, 
 and call ' Peep-bo ! ' when you see me. (To think as I've 
 come to playin' Peep-bo with a dangerous madman!) Then 
 you ide,' Willie. Ain't that a nice game?" 
 
 The poor fellow's ghastly smile was almost hidden by the 
 streams of perspiration which poured down his face. 
 
 He nervously watched Hawk, after a rapid prance or so, 
 hide his face under the updrawn tail of one of his coats, and 
 
MY DOG AND I 63 
 
 then, talking the while, with the greatest care Harker lowered 
 himself from the rack just as the train started slowing up. 
 
 "Keep your eyes tight shut, Willie, and we will 'ave a 
 lark. I'm a-goin' to 'ide myself so as you'll 'ave reason to be 
 proud if you find me (I'll see you don't)," panted the moist 
 policeman as he tiptoed from the seat to the floor, inciden- 
 tally treading on the Demon's tail. 
 
 That lovable dog had been watching Hawk with a critical 
 eye, approvingly adding his own yelps to the other's weird 
 howls, and during the less noisy periods listening with one 
 ear cocked, looking the while from bait to baiter. He was 
 perfectly aware of my proximity, for I noted his watchful 
 glance sometimes swept over me, with an exultant gleam as 
 he observed my dusty and groveling position. 
 
 When he received the full benefit of a genuine policeman's 
 large-sized eleven on his caudal appendage he gave vent to 
 such a weird yow-row that Hawk's loudest attempts seemed, 
 in comparison, like the crooning of an Eastern love song, 
 then bolted under the opposite seat, where he remained 
 whining dismally. 
 
 "Don't look up, Willie," implored Harker, whom the 
 Demon's vocalization had further disorganized. "Don't 
 look up or I shan't play, and I know 'ow disappointed you'd 
 be then. (Bust this door 'andle! Why the dooce don't they 
 oil 'em? Lazy, 'ulkin' fellers, them porters. Ah! 'ere's the 
 platform, and thank 'eaven the 'andle's movin' at last!)" 
 
 With the utmost delicacy he gently pushed the door wide 
 open, and with a parting, ^^Now you may look, WiUie, dash 
 your eyes!" flung himself out of the carriage, smashed the 
 door to with a fearful bang, and tore down the platform like a 
 Derby winner. Hawk, with his face working convulsively, 
 hung out of the window to give him a parting cheer, and I 
 dragged myself stiffly from under the seat in time to see the 
 unnerved worthy plunge past an astonished ticket collector, 
 cavort down the station lane, and finally disappear through 
 the swing doors of a sheltering pubHc-house. 
 
 "That's the way to frolic with them," said Hawk. "He 
 
64 MY DOG AND I 
 
 won't trouble us again, I'll guarantee. I fancy my acting was 
 pretty realistic." 
 
 ''Second nature, I expect," I replied sarcastically, as I 
 endeavored to remove a layer or so of carriage moss from my 
 noble person. " What, by the way, are we going to do when 
 we get to London? After the restfulness of the last few hours 
 it will be too slow for us; besides, if we go to your rooms " 
 
 " Not if I know it, with that female landlady of mine casting 
 sheeps' eyes at me till I shudder," interjected Hawk. 
 
 "Well then, where are we going? Perhaps you are think- 
 ing of getting a position in the Chamber of Horrors at 
 Madame Tussaud's? They'd welcome you with open arms, 
 Hawk, I don't doubt." 
 
 *'My idea was that we should get rigged out to make 
 ourselves presentable, get rid of these filthy rags, and have 
 a week or so by the sea till the affair has blown over. It'll do 
 us both good, and the dog too." 
 
 I objected to Hawk calling the clothes he had comman- 
 deered filthy rags, so I scorned his scheme. 
 
 ''Much better try the Chamber of Horrors, and I'll go 
 and drown myself," I snorted. 
 
 •'You'll feel better when you've had some grub. All you 
 need do is to leave everything to me. I'm going to see you 
 through this trouble of yours right to the end, my boy." 
 
 "That is true; it will be trouble right to the end, and no 
 mistake." 
 
 "Oh, dry up! Yank that pup out and brush me down. 
 We shall be at Waterloo in a minute or so, and I'm dying for 
 a feed," he urged. 
 
 We set to in a gathering cloud of dust and microbes clean- 
 ing each other in intention, but rubbing the mixture in ac- 
 tually. 
 
 The train drew up at the far end of the longest platform 
 it could find, where Hawk and I, with the Demon in Harker's 
 carpet bag ("Spoils of war," Hawk had remarked), alighted, 
 and rapidly sought the refreshment-room. 
 
 "And now," mumbled Hawk, with his mouth full of 
 
MY DOG AND I 65 
 
 sausage roll, ''we'll find somewhere to get a square meal, and 
 then get some clothes, eh?" 
 
 We walked out of the station, turning Elephant and 
 Castlewards. The noise of the traffic was perfectly soothing 
 after the racket Hawk had been making as Mad Willie, the 
 grinding of the motor buses and trams were to me quite a 
 lullaby; indeed, I was nearly asleep when Hawk at last led 
 the way into a restaurant, shouting his requirements before 
 he had passed the cashier's desk. 
 
 "We'll take things in the order of their importance: Grub 
 first, clothes next, and so on. Waiter! Bring me a couple 
 of pounds of steak and a few bottles of Bass! This gentleman 
 will order for himself." 
 
 ''I'll have the same," added I. 
 
 "And you can get some oysters ready for me whilst this is 
 cooking," called Hawk. 
 
 "Yes, sir," floated back to us in an awe-struck voice. 
 
 "Nothing like a little snack," remarked Hawk, as he 
 munched a roll whilst his order was being attended to. "In 
 half an hour you'll be blessing me for getting you out of it so 
 well, without undue fuss, old man." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Deals with the question of new clothes and the disposal of the old. The 
 Thames afiZ the trainp. The dog saves us from an awkward predica- 
 ment, and is rewarded with Banhurys, which do not suit him. We walk 
 to Charing Cross to journey to Hastings. Hawk's short ctit, and the 
 missed train. 
 
 "And now for some togs," said Hawk, full of steak and 
 optimism, as we left the restaurant. "No need to fear being 
 followed now. Middewick won't think of looking for us up 
 here, Dobbs. Eowch!" he jerked out, as someone rushed up 
 behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "You left your bag behind, sir," came the respectful voice 
 of our late waiter, producing Harker's carpet bag, as he 
 spoke, the sundry bulges in the sides of it denoting the 
 Demon's whereabouts. 
 
 ''Th — thank you," said Hawk shakily, and when the 
 waiter had vanished, turned to me and added, "It's our 
 familiar again. Bothered if I didn't think we were caught. 
 Come on ; let's get these clothes replaced, and cheer ourselves 
 up a bit." 
 
 He led the way into a large shop, magnificently disdaining 
 the shopwalker's offer to show us the way, and for a start got 
 into the wrong department, greatly shocking a young lady 
 at the baby outfitting counter by a demand for a flannel suit 
 with no lining to the trousers. 
 
 In a short time, having found what we required, we 
 emerged dressed in gray suits with straw hats bearing a red, 
 yellow and black ribbon — "My old regimental colors," 
 Hawk had most unnecessarily told the shopman — and with 
 our discarded clothes in Harker's bag, which I carried, whilst 
 Hawk flaunted along with a new Gladstone of vivid brown, 
 containing other purchases. 
 
 In a burst of generosity Hawk had bought for the Demon 
 
 66 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 67 
 
 a pet dog coat of blue, trimmed with a shade of yellow that 
 brought on ophthalmia every time you looked at it. The 
 unhappy animal's whole attention seemed to be concentrated 
 on chewing it off, and on a hot evening one could sympathize 
 with him being tied up in a heavy blanket arrangement 
 specially made for arctic weather. 
 
 "Wonder how Nunky is?" mused Hawk. "Never mind, 
 I dare say he'll get over it all right. Let's forget your troubles 
 for a bit. I'm going to show you what a real good time is like, 
 so we'll get rid of this carpet bag and then pop down to 
 Hastings for a little ozone, what?" 
 
 We were walking towards West- 
 minster Bridge, and save for that 
 bag, I flattered myself we looked 
 very smart, although Hawk's idea 
 of a flannel suit required a decided 
 pattern — one which would look 
 less noticeable behind the footlights 
 than in the street. The mis- 
 anthropic Demon pattered in a 
 subdued manner after us. 
 
 Several men in highly-glazed top 
 hats with curly, rakish brims, and 
 others in soft headgear and more 
 or less shaven faces, nodded fra- 
 ternally as we passed the end of 
 Kennington Road, and outside the Canterbury Music Hall 
 a pair of golden-haired ladies nudged each other, one re- 
 marking that when there were so many crosstalk turns knock- 
 ing about what chance had simple song and dance artists 
 got, dear, she'd like to know. 
 
 Hawk simpered in a gratified way. 
 
 "They're taking us for pros.," he said, cocking his straw 
 hat a little more over his left eye. 
 
 "For what?" said I. 
 
 "Pros. On the stage, you know. Shouldn't be surprised 
 if we were mistaken for stars," he replied loftily. 
 
 We walked towards 
 Westminster. 
 
68 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "Or thunderbolts," I said softly. 
 
 "Oh, you're an ignorant ass! Come on, I want to get this 
 bag out of the way," he said, as he turned down by St. 
 Thomas's Hospital and looked over the Embankment at the 
 river. 
 
 "What are you going to do with it?" I queried. 
 
 "Chuck it in! You don't imagine I want to drag the 
 thing about for the rest of my life, do you?" 
 
 "Won't you be noticed?" 
 
 "Nonsense. There's only that old tramp near," he argued, 
 pointing to a quiescent bundle on a seat, "and she's asleep." 
 
 It seemed perfectly safe; nobody was taking any interest 
 in us. People scuttled to and fro upon the bridge without a 
 glance in our direction, and a policeman who had passed us a 
 minute before was immersed in his note-book as he sedately 
 tramped along the Embankment. 
 
 So Hawk gave the bag a preliminary swing and slung it 
 unto the water, where it sank with a noisy plop. As it 
 hurtled through the air I noticed with horror that the sleep- 
 ing female had galvanized into life, and with a fiendish 
 eagerness she screamed "Murder!" as the bag entered the 
 river. 
 
 "Murder!" she yelled, flinging herself upon Hawk, whom 
 she grabbed vindictively by the collar. " 'Elp! Murder! 
 Perlice!" 
 
 Hawk, I, and the Demon stood aghast, whilst a crowd 
 sprang up like magic. The burly policeman hastily crammed 
 his note-book into his pocket, turned, and descended swiftly, 
 and on the principle of a bird in the hand being worth three 
 on bail, firmly took hold of us. 
 
 "Wot's all this?" he asked majestically. "Wot have you 
 been up to, eh?" 
 
 The lady devotee of the open road kindly enlightened him. 
 
 "I wos a-settin' there," she skirled, pointing a dramatic 
 claw at the top of Big Ben, "an I see these two with a bag 
 a-skulkin' down 'ere; so I ses to meself, I ain't been convicted 
 forty times not to know a crook when I sees one, I ses " 
 
MY DOG AND I 69 
 
 "Cut it short, old girl," prompted the crowd. 
 
 "An' they suddenly up an' flung the pore thing's body in 
 the water!" 
 
 "Body?" shouted Hawk. "It was only a bag of old 
 clothes." 
 
 "Garn!" derided the crowd. "Bloomin' murderers! 
 Some pore child." 
 
 They swayed to and fro with growing excitement. 
 
 Another terrific splash at this moment enlivened the pro- 
 ceedings. In a dazed way I became aware that the Demon 
 was missing, and as a moment before he had been standing 
 on the parapet, concluded he had fallen in too. 
 
 "The pore thing screamed 'ear trending," remarked the 
 lady tramp, warming to her tale as she noted her appreciative 
 audience. "If there was a man amongst you, you'd resky 'er 
 before it's too late." 
 
 Our captor was torn between duty and humanity. If he 
 rescued the alleged drowning person, we might escape; on the 
 other hand, if he held on to us, the person would assuredly 
 drown. He solved the difficulty by giving Hawk into the 
 custody of a zealous cab-driver, who resented sharing his 
 prize with the tramp, albeit she hung on enthusiastically; 
 and myself into the custody of another member of the force, 
 a bland creature, who had strolled up and was murmuring, 
 "Move on, please!" as though he were wound up. 
 
 This left Robert No. i to do and dare, which he commenced 
 by discarding his helmet and tunic, and posing on the parapet 
 preparatory to diving off. At this juncture the Demon was 
 observed swimming towards the steps with Harker's bag 
 gripped in his jaws, whereat the policeman struggled into 
 his uniform again, and led the whole crowd to await the dog's 
 appearance at the top. 
 
 " Hurroo ! " yelled the crowd. " The bloomin' dorg's got the 
 bloomin' bag, bloomin' body an' all," and surged riotously. 
 
 How they imagined a dog of the Demon's size could drag 
 a full-grown person, encased in a small carpet bag, up the 
 steps I don't know. 
 
70 MY DOG AND I 
 
 More representatives of the law had turned up in time to 
 stay any actual demonstration against us, beyond a few 
 insignificant pieces of stone and an elderly haddock, but it 
 w^as an impressive procession which saw us to the Kennington 
 Road Police Station. 
 
 My heart almost warmed to the Demon as he sturdily took 
 his stand beside us in the little dock, whilst the policeman 
 who had made the arrest stood with Marker's dripping bag 
 in his hand and told his version of the business. 
 
 "You've been here before, I think; I seem to know your 
 face," said the Inspector, looking keenly at Hawk. (I wasn't 
 a bit surprised. My only wonder w^as that Hawk managed 
 to get any liberty at all.) "What's your name?" 
 
 "Hawk," snarled my friend. 
 
 The inspector's manner changed, and he broke into a smile. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Hawk, I expect you can explain this matter 
 satisfactorily. I remember you assisted me greatly in run- 
 ning Flash Joe to earth some time ago." 
 
 I mentally apologized to Hawk, for I'd always looked on 
 his tale about Flash Joe as a particularly inartistic bit of 
 romancing. 
 
 Hawk too softened, and smiled his recognition. 
 
 "I'll explain in a minute. Inspector Brookes. That bag 
 simply contains some old clothes my friend here, Mr. Dobbs, 
 was taking out to give away, and they accidentally fell into 
 the water; then a fool of a tramp interfered, and here we are." 
 
 The Inspector, I was delighted to notice, seemed to take 
 Hawk's word readily; and as he had already opened the bag, 
 and verified his statement that its only contents were old 
 clothes, he sternly turned on the luckless P. C. who had 
 brought us, and asked him what he meant by charging 
 people on such flimsy evidence as a tramp's tale. We parted 
 from him with mutual salutations, leaving the constable to 
 sooth his wounded feelings with the wet clothes in Harker's 
 bag. 
 
 Hawk voiced a popular feeling as we departed, free men 
 again. 
 
MY DOG AND I 71 
 
 ''What we want," he said sententiously, "is a nerve 
 steadier." 
 
 He certainly seemed acutely to feel the need of one, for he 
 spoke no word till he had absorbed three, and whilst the 
 barmaid fetched a fourth he took it into his head to praise the 
 Demon. 
 
 ''I'm going to stand him a feed, Dobbs. He's made up for 
 a lot by retrieving that bag. We should have been very 
 much in queer street if he had not done so; they'd have 
 dragged the river, and kept us locked up on suspicion until 
 it was found. 
 
 So he bought the Demon some six of those succulent 
 delicacies known as Banburys, and the Demon whole- 
 heartedly devoured one and all, and then sank, distended and 
 bhssful, to sleep them off. 
 
 After Hawk had completed a lengthy monologue on his 
 brilliant methods of circumventing trouble, as exemplified 
 in our particular case, we thought it time to move, for the 
 evening was drawing in and we were some distance from 
 Charing Cross, from which station we had decided to leave 
 London. 
 
 "It's your jaw, Dobbs; you start talking and don't know 
 when to stop," complained Hawk. "Come along, we shall 
 be late." 
 
 " This dog's gone to sleep. Wake up ! " I urged the Demon, 
 who lay snoring in B anbury-induced oblivion. 
 
 "Yes, wake up," added Hawk, dragging at his collar. 
 
 The Demon opened one eye, grunted, and rolled over 
 again. 
 
 "Well, we shall have to leave him here, that's all," said 
 Hawk impatiently. 
 
 "Can't allow that, sir," suddenly broke in the hostelry's 
 proprietor, who had just appeared, and was looking over the 
 counter at the Demon with a stern, disapproving eye. " Can't 
 have half-drowned pups left here. Take him with you, 
 please." 
 
 Hawk looked round at the speaker, noted his determined 
 
72 MY DOG AND I 
 
 face, wilted, and then remarking casually, "Very well, pick 
 him up, Dobbs," fussed out of the door, leaving me to gather 
 up the still wet and supine Demon and stagger after him. 
 
 Outside he started talking against time to prevent me from 
 edging in a word about his sharing my burden. 
 
 "Hold him a minute whilst I call a cab," he said, when I 
 at last got a word in, and then pranced whistling and gesticu- 
 lating until a cab came within hail. 
 
 " Charing Cross, and look sharp!" he shouted to the driver, 
 who was regarding me and my dripping dog with evident 
 distrust. 
 
 "Your friend coming too, sir?" 
 
 " Certainly. You can carry more than one passenger with- 
 out your machine giving way, can't you?" rapped Hawk. 
 
 "I can, but I ain't going to. A mud cart's more in your 
 line," sniffed the driver with a final glance at the Demon, and 
 drove off with derisive toots. 
 
 "You're a pretty fine prize idiot," I snarled, looking dovv^n 
 at my bedaubed suit and the stertorous dog limply dangling 
 in my arms. "Do you expect me to nurse this pup much 
 longer?" 
 
 He became indignant. 
 
 " Considering what the poor thing has just done for us, the 
 least you can do is to hold him a bit." 
 "You try for a change." 
 
 "What's the use of dirtying two suits? Besides, I want to 
 call a bus," he said, and turned to furi- 
 ously signal one that was then passing. 
 "Can't take dogs in that condition, 
 sir," exclaimed the conductor, and rang 
 his bell hastily, managing to get under 
 way before we could board him. 
 
 "Bust that beastly dog of yours," 
 Banbury s. growled my companion; "we shall have 
 
 to walk it then. Good job I know a short cut. You follow 
 me, and we'll be there in a jiffy." 
 
 I tried futilely to make the Demon walk, but he only 
 
MY DOG AND I 73 
 
 flopped down on his side grunting; and fearing from certain 
 uneasy whines that those B anbury s had not suited him, I 
 carefully picked him up again, trusting fervidly that if I 
 carried him with as little motion as possible his indisposi- 
 tion would remain passive. 
 
 There are short cuts and short cuts. Hawk's was one of 
 the others. How a man who had hved in London most of 
 his life could get mixed up like he did astonished me. I have 
 since worked out that short cut on a map. Starting from the 
 Surrey side of Westminster Bridge, it seems but a short walk 
 over it, down the Embankment, and so to Charing Cross. 
 But he had his own ideas of getting there. 
 
 *'You cut down here," said Hawk over his shoulder, *'and 
 in half a tic you come to some steps; and, bless you, you're 
 trotting over the railway bridge before you know it." 
 
 It might have been all right if he had taken the right 
 turning. As it turned out, we eventually did arrive at a 
 bridge, but it took us into such a labyrinth of byways I was 
 quite relieved to find after an hour's walk we were not farther 
 afield than the slums of Westminster. On, on trotted Hawk, 
 first to the left, then down a passage and round to the right, 
 full steam ahead through a street composed principally of 
 cabbage stalks and lodging houses, round corners into purple- 
 looking mews for decrepit donkeys; out of these again, and 
 up stall-lined, naphtha-lighted narrow ways, until my arms 
 ached wickedly with the weight of the Demon and a grow- 
 ing desire to punch Hawk's head. Even when we had 
 passed the same fried fish shop six times he wouldn't admit 
 defeat. 
 
 ''These beastly London improvements," he complained, 
 "are wiping out all the good old landmarks." 
 
 I could not see that any of the streets we had passed 
 through had been improved for some fifty years, for they 
 were of the old and crusted variety; so I told him if he'd lost 
 himself he'd better say so, for I emphatically wasn't going to 
 carry a Banbury-stuffed dog about after his Wandering Jew 
 lead all night. 
 
74 MY DOG AND I 
 
 " Lost myself ? Rot! Find my way blindfold anywhere in 
 London. Be there in a second. Here's a bridge." 
 
 We crossed it, to find we had landed where we started from. 
 
 "Better look at a time-table," he said hastily, to stay my 
 remarks. 
 
 He led the way into a house of refreshment, and ordered 
 amongst other things an A. B. C, from which we gained the 
 comforting information that every train for Hastings from 
 any station we liked to find had gone, and unless we choose 
 to walk, we should have to wait until the morning. 
 
 Hawk began most unjustly to accuse me of keeping him 
 dancing round back streets until we missed the last train. 
 
 "That's what comes of letting a silly, countrified ass inter- 
 fere. If you'd jolly well let me alone, we should have been 
 there hours ago. No, you must keep on grumbling and 
 taking my attention off the turnings. Laziness. Simply 
 because you were too blessed lazy to carry a poor, tired Httle 
 pup. What a rotter you are, Dobbs," he said acidly. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to put up for the night. A 
 kindly hotel keeper permitted the Demon to sleep in the 
 yard on which our bedroom window looked out, and as I lay 
 awake, listening to the myriad sounds of London, so unlike 
 the gentle squeak of the orphan kittens who roamed the 
 attic stairs of my dear old home, it was patent to me that the 
 Banburys had not suited my canine friend. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Explains Hawk's way of waking people. A train at last. Hastings, and a 
 hunt for rooms. The lady of the cod. A stroll and a smuggling yarn, 
 which causes Hawk to approach the Coastguards, and finally efi'ect an 
 arrest himself, for which he is justly rewarded. 
 
 Despite the Demon's groans, I managed to sleep a little, 
 otherwise I should have been prepared for Hawk's idea of 
 ''Wake me early, mother dear I" 
 
 There is no doubt about it, the sudden fall of a well-filled 
 Gladstone bag on one's chest, followed by a broncho-busting 
 yell, will bring the heaviest sleep to an abrupt termination. 
 
 He need not, as I told him, have waited till he'd had break- 
 fast, and only left a few minutes to catch the train in, before 
 waking me. To rampage into a fellow's bedroom, absolutely 
 enhaloed with ham and eggs, marmalade, toast, and other 
 breakfast joys, and calmly tell him he has only just time to 
 throw his clothes on and rush for some beastly train, par- 
 takes of the refinement of cruelty. 
 
 Be that as it may, by diligent valeting on Hawk's part, 
 I got dressed, and we caught that train by the skin of our 
 teeth, and shins, when we fell over the Demon. The journey 
 down was uneventful. I smoked and meditated. Hawk 
 snored (horrid habit he had of falling asleep at the least 
 provocation). He said all great men could do it. Look at 
 Wellington, what? The Demon lay under the seat and seri- 
 ously went into the Banbury question. Hawk's nasal notes 
 and the pup's whines were hke a violin and 'cello duet. I 
 joined in with a foot and fist obbligato when their harmony 
 got a bit too Wagnerian. 
 
 We alighted from the train greatly refreshed, and made 
 our way out of the station. 
 
 ''This," said Hawk, stopping impressively and nearly 
 being run down by a cab, "this is peace. The beneficent 
 
 75 
 
76 MY DOG AND I 
 
 sunshine descends, wrapping its mantle round the ancient 
 William the Conquerish town, rich in historical associations 
 and fresh fish. The distant clamor of the sea, Dobbs, 
 wafts the ozone towards us. Lovely smell! Do you notice 
 the ozone?" 
 
 "Not so well as you do, perhaps, as you happen to be 
 standing with your back to a fish barrow," I said, with an 
 impatient shrug. "Are you going to stand here and rant 
 long? Hadn't we better be looking for rooms?" 
 
 "Mundane trifler. You've about as much poetry in you 
 as a half-witted cow," complained Hawk. "Have it your 
 way. Let us by all means seek apartments, and let's hope 
 they'll be more comfortable than that place of yours at Midde- 
 wick," he added, with a sneer at my home comforts. 
 
 So we sought. It was the height of the season, and it 
 appeared that rooms were at a discount, or rather at par or 
 above it. Landladies, strong with the righteousness of every 
 bedroom filled and the family sleeping in the bathroom, 
 snorted disdainfully, and sent us on unproductive journeys 
 to friends who might have a spare bed. We fairly ransacked 
 that town, and it was quite late when, utterly depressed, we 
 came upon a complacent dame in a tucked-away street, who 
 it seemed had a sitting-room and bedroom vacant. WTien 
 we saw the rooms we understood why they were vacant. My 
 impression still is that they were more in the nature of 
 experiments than rooms, the question at issue being if one 
 person was inside could another open the door without 
 squashing the first into the fireplace. 
 
 "No children, I seepose? " asked the landlady, when we 
 wearily signified our intention of stopping. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Hawk, "we've only a dog," unnecessarily 
 adding we were both widowers, and the children were staying 
 with grandma. 
 
 " A dog? Dogs is half a crown extra always," she simpered, 
 "and all breakages to be paid for. You'll want the piano, of 
 course? " 
 
 "I don't see one," I ventured. 
 
MY DOG AND I 77 
 
 "It's in the bedroom," said the landlady, in a confidential 
 tone. "You see, me and me 'usbind 'ave bin usin' the bed- 
 room ourselves, an' the piano comes in 'andy to put clothes 
 in and what all. You'll find the bed well aired, as 'e's bin 
 sleepin' in it all day through bein' out last night on a fishin'- 
 smack. Came in so tired, poor feller, 'e didn't even trouble 
 to undress. Cleanin' up them fishin'-boats is always 'ard 
 work, as 'e rightly says." 
 
 C'l bag the sofa," whispered Hawk to me in a definite 
 tone.) 
 
 ''Would you Hke any supper? Somethin' tasty after 
 your 'ard walk? Me and me 'usbind's just goin' to 'ave 
 a bite ourselves," said the landlady. 
 
 I had been looking about for the Demon, who must have 
 hidden in the piano or some other coy place; but at the sound 
 of the word supper I pricked up my ears and answered — 
 
 ''Well, just a little snack, if you could manage it for us. 
 Anything will do," I added, with visions of dehcate fillets of 
 sole, some cold beef and salad, with perhaps a sweet and 
 black coffee to wind up with. 
 
 "Lemme see," she considered, "there's some fried tripe 
 and liver we're 'avin', then there's a bit of cole cod the party 
 upstairs sent down yesterday what's almost as good as new — " 
 
 We hastily assured her that after all we weren't particularly 
 hungry, and would take a walk instead of a meal, and beat a 
 precipitate retreat. 
 
 "Fried tripe 1" groaned Hawk in a convulsed voice. 
 
 "Second-hand fish!" I wailed in bilious accents. 
 
 "After that a mouthful of sea air is imperative," he re- 
 marked, and cheered up a httle at a glimpse of the ocean. 
 
 We came upon a part of the front away from the haunts 
 of promenaders, seated ourselves on a rowing-boat which lay 
 handy, and gazed out over the moonUt sea. It looked 
 peaceful: a gentle swell rocked it in the shimmer of the 
 summer moonlight, and a fishing-boat gracefully undulated 
 as she forged her quiet way out. Hawk sat with a rapt ex- 
 pression on his chubby face and a poetic gleam in his pop 
 
78 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 eyes. I felt for him, for the majesty of the night had also 
 entered my soul. At last, in a hushed voice, he spoke. 
 
 ''Dobbs, old man, I feel somehow 
 
 Hawk sat with a rapt 
 expression. 
 
 "So do I, old chap," I said yearn- 
 fully. 
 
 — "as though I could do with a nice, 
 long, cool drink," he concluded with 
 emotion. 
 
 I might have remembered that he was 
 of the world, thirsty. 
 
 "What! " I asked. "Is that all you 
 can think about? Didn't the beauty of 
 that fishing-boat strike you? " 
 
 "Yes, it did. Reminded me of the 
 pictures on bloater paste tins; and talk- 
 ing of bloater paste, where's the dog? " 
 "Dog? Didn't he come with us? " 
 "No; I missed him whilst the land- 
 lady was gassing about the succulent delights of her cui- 
 sine." 
 
 "Then we are in for trouble shortly," I said. "He's bad 
 enough when present, but behind one's back he's nothing 
 short of a national calamity." 
 
 "Well, he's your dog," said the unfeeling Hawk. "I'm 
 not going to spoil my evening for him. Let's wander and 
 gather local color. I'm beginning to feel in my element 
 again." 
 
 There it was. Apart from his main characteristic, the 
 quest of useless local color for possible thunder tales. Hawk 
 had a fiendish way of absorbing his surroundings. If he were 
 in the company of actors, one would imagine he had trodden 
 the boards all his life; and were he amongst military fellows, 
 he would grope unconsciously for his sword, settle imaginary 
 chin straps, walk on tiptoe so as not to catch his spurs in the 
 carpet, and order people about in a most martinet-Hke manner. 
 His great fault was an excess of thoroughness. In the present 
 
MY DOG AND I 79 
 
 instance, imbued with naval ideas, caused by the proximity 
 of the sea, he tried to imitate the ways of a man-of-war's 
 captain, as he imagined one, 
 
 "Tumble up, my hearty," he remarked as he rose, "and 
 we'll steam ahead." 
 
 We steamed. In a few minutes we came within hail of 
 another craft; to be particular, a belated boatman, who 
 ruminated and chewed (oh, memories of Mrs. Gibble!) 
 against a railing, over which he expectorated on the virgin 
 sands with methodical precision, three shots to the minute. 
 
 "Avast!" said Hawk, as he noticed the ancient mariner. 
 "Let us board yonder vessel and get our bearings, Mr. Mate." 
 
 I sniffed. 
 
 "Good evening, my man," he condescended to the boat- 
 man. 
 
 "Wot?" asked the honest fellow, looking as if suddenly 
 confronted with Neptune. 
 
 "I said Good evening," replied Hawk. ("You watch me 
 draw him out," to me.) "No doubt you're dreaming of 
 former battles with the waves, what? 
 
 "Wot's it got ter do with yew wot I'm doin'?" lowered 
 the other. 
 
 "Well, I'm interested in the sea, you know," said Hawk 
 lamely, who had expected the man to fall on his neck and 
 make remarks about his likeness to Nelson. "I merely asked 
 you, because I noticed what a fine seaman you looked." 
 
 The mariner regarded Hawk fishily for a moment, and 
 then smiled softly to himself. 
 
 "You'd never think, sir, wot I wos a-lookin' for yonder?" 
 
 "Fishing-boats, what?" 
 
 "Smugglers, smugglers, sir!" said the fellow in a hoarse 
 and beery whisper. 
 
 "Smugglers? Why, I thought their day was over!" ex- 
 claimed Hawk. 
 
 "Their night ain't, sir. Why, if I weren't so 'usky, I c'd 
 tell yew things as would make yer 'air turn to water." 
 
 Hawk scented a yarn which would work up for his Errand 
 
:^» 
 
 80 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Boys^ Gazette commission, and handed the man the where- 
 withal to remove his huskiness. 
 
 My own impression was that the sailor had a bet with 
 himself on how much he could cram Hawk with before he 
 gave the game away by laughing, but it was none of my 
 business. 
 
 "I can see you're a sailor, sir," began our nautical Ananias 
 (Hawk had once been from London to Margate by boat, not 
 counting trips on penny steamers), ''and I don't mind tellin 
 you there's a turrible lot o' smugglin' goes on 'ere. Somethin 
 shockin' it is. You see them caves in the 'ill 'ere are 'andy 
 fur stowin' contriband, and it's seldom some o' the boys miss 
 a night runnin' a cargo." 
 
 "Cargo of what?" 
 
 "Oh, rum, terbaccer, terbaccer an' rum, esseterer," said 
 Sapphira's husband airily. "Lor, you'd be astonished. 
 Risky game it be too, for there's the coast-guards; an' then 
 there's the prize money, you know." 
 
 "Prize money?" asked Hawk. 
 
 "Yes, 'underds o' pounds is paid to anyone wot nabs 'em. 
 I often envies other people wot can put the coast-guards on 
 'em, becos us chaps wot as yew may say wos brung up with 
 the smugglers it wouldn't do for us to say anythin.' Why, 
 bothered if that ain't one out there!" he went on with an 
 attempt at excitement a child could have seen through, but 
 Hawk failed to, "and dang it, she's makin' for shore. 'Ow 
 I wish I might blow on 'em, but it's more'n me life's worth." 
 
 He shuffled about with a view to emphasizing his regret. 
 
 "How much is the reward?" asked the eager Hawk. 
 
 " 'Underd quid for a smallun, 'underd an' fifty for a 
 largeun, 'alf the value o' the stuff aboard, and a stifficate 
 from the Royal 'Umane Sossiiety," the man answered 
 steadily, though I saw him strangling a snigger. 
 
 Hawk nudged me. 
 
 "Gosh, this'll be the thing for us, Dobbs! Get enough 
 money to make us independent if we catch a few of the 
 beggars." 
 
MY DOG AND I 8i 
 
 He then poured questions on our truthful James, who, to 
 give him his due, had answers ready for the wildest query 
 Hawk might make. 
 
 ^'Wheredo they land?" 
 
 "Ah, that's more than me life's worth, sir!" demurred 
 George Washington. 
 
 "If I give you five bob will you tell me?" 
 
 "Couldn't be done under ten, sir, I'm afraid." 
 
 Hawk recklessly pressed half a sovereign on him, and the 
 man covered his face with a large hand. 
 
 "It seems crool of me to give 'em away," he choked in a 
 broken voice, "but they'll beach 'er near the fur side of the 
 'arbor." 
 
 "Isn't that rather risky?" 
 
 "Ah, that's their artfulness! Oo'd think o' lookin' fur 
 smugglers in a 'arbor?" replied our friend with a cunning 
 leer. 
 
 "There's some sense in that. What had I better do? " 
 
 "Well, you'd best watch 'em bring her in, an' then inform 
 the coast-guards, sir. That's wot I'd do if I 'ad a free 
 'and." 
 
 Hawk turned to me, his little nose a-quiver, and said — 
 
 "Come on, we're just in time," then pattered off without 
 the trouble of hearing my views on the matter. 
 
 I was anxious to see the finish, and only waited to exchange 
 a wink with the fisherman Judas before I hurried off after the 
 informer. 
 
 As the boatman had stated, the little craft had made the 
 harbor, and from the shadow of a capstan we saw her prepare 
 to beach. 
 
 "Now for the coast-guards!" exulted Hawk, and hurried 
 me to their quarters. 
 
 A burly coast-guard confronted Hawk, and as the latter 
 did nothing but puff and blow, very naturally he demanded 
 to know what was up. 
 
 "Quick!" replied Hawk in a shrill whisper. "Tell your 
 companions to arm and follow me." 
 
82 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "What's the good? It's nearly closing time," said the 
 coast-guard. 
 
 "Good, man? Do you know there are some smugglers 
 just landed, and that if you come now we can catch them 
 red-handed?" squeaked Hawk, who, Silas Wegg-like, had 
 dropped into rhyme without knowing it. 
 
 "Dear me, that's bad!" the coast-guard slowly replied. 
 "Where did you say they are landing?" 
 
 "In the harbor." 
 "Oh, in the harbor! I'll 
 have to see about this. 'Arf 
 a minute, sir," he said, 
 whilst he turned into the 
 building, and after a short 
 interval emerged with three 
 
 The Coast-guards. of his fellows. 
 
 They eagerly crowded 
 round Hawk and listened to his tale. It appeared that 
 Hawk had been sea-fishing from a small boat when this craft 
 passed him. He didn't like the look of it (why not stated, 
 as he had had little time to prepare his yarn), so he tied his 
 boat to its stern and crept on board, where to his righteous 
 horror as a British taxpayer he overheard the crew discussing 
 which cave in the cliff to hide their smuggled cargo of rum 
 and tobacco. 
 
 He produced his pipe to show a shred of the tobacco still 
 left in it, and spoke of the smell of the rum until the coast- 
 guards begged him not to harrow their thirsts like that. Well, 
 after he had heard all he could, he climbed back into his 
 boat unobserved, and rowed hard to land, which he reached 
 just in time to see the smugglers enter the harbor. It was 
 the work of a minute to fly to the Coast-guard Station, and — 
 here he was. 
 
 He rather spoiled the story by an attempt to lug in an im- 
 possible adventure with a tremendous shark, but they didn't 
 mind a bit. Indeed, they begged him to tell them over 
 again, and he did, only in the excitement of the moment he 
 
MY DOG AND I 83 
 
 made the cargo brandy and cigars, which interested the 
 listeners almost as much as the other one. I do not mean to 
 infer that the coast-guards were anything but strictly sober, 
 hard-working and w^orthy men; but you know that the 
 mention of rum to a man of the sea makes him feel as poetical 
 as a Scotchman is about the native dew of the Hielands. 
 Hawk knocked that boatman into fits as a liar. Com- 
 pared with Hawk, he was a complete Sunday companion 
 for curates. The coast-guards did him honor. They said 
 they'd never met a real adventurer before, if they might 
 say so, and politely regretted he hadn't said more about 
 the shark. Frank admiration was in their look — no envy, 
 just a kind of awe, as they urged him to leave no detail 
 untold. 
 
 "But aren't you coming?" he demanded at last. 
 
 "Can't manage it to-night, sir; some other evening," said 
 coast-guard No. i in apologetic tones. 
 
 " Well, of all the . Never mind. If you don't know 
 
 your duty, I do. I'll tackle 'em myself," said Hawk in dis- 
 gust, and scuttled off with ferocious mien. 
 
 The coast-guards curled silently up and wept on each 
 other's manly shoulders. At last one managed to gurgle — 
 
 "I'd give somethin' to see what old Sam looks like when 
 that little fellow accuses him o' smuggHn', 'specially as he 
 has put back after startin' out, which means broken nets or 
 somethin' serious." 
 
 I hastened after my avengeful friend as he ran towards the 
 boat he had decided belonged to a smuggler. As a matter of 
 fact, even dark as it was, he could have seen the smack — and 
 smelt it — to be the Liza Ann of Hastings, owned by one 
 native called Samuel Pottle. Moreover, the row the said 
 Pottle was making over the question of torn nets should have 
 told him his quarry w^as an honest fishing vessel. But when 
 Hawk made up his mind definitely that black was white, 
 nothing anybody could say, yell or storm altered his opinion. 
 Any clear contradiction he regarded as simply a diplomatic 
 attempt to draw him off the scent. So I wasn't surprised 
 
84 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 to see him— a fat, portentous little figure — approach the 
 Liza Ann with deadly intent. 
 
 For a smuggler, Mr. Pottle seemed to have a fine dis- 
 regard for those silent 
 methods usual to the fra- 
 ternity. He labored, it 
 seemed, under some strong 
 emotion, which needed 
 vent, for he was sending 
 up to the quiet heavens a 
 bull-like roaring, and em- 
 phasized the points of his 
 discourse with a large and 
 none too fresh dogfish held 
 flailwise. 
 
 "Wot I" howled Mr. 
 Pottle, as he caught a 
 member of the crew a 
 sounding slap in the face 
 with his clammy scepter, "you tell me those nets did break 
 d'rectly we put 'em out because they wos rotten? Why, I've 
 had them nets years — years, my chap, when you was only a 
 little dirty brat of a thing a-runnin' about the sands. Must 
 'ave 'ad 'em twenty years an' never a brak nor break, so 
 'elp me, till you cussed Saturday night sailors pulled un to 
 bits." 
 
 Another highly aggrieved voice wailed out upon the 
 stillness — 
 
 "Yow and yowT old nets! I wonder yow cent struck, 
 sayin' it was us. Nets be rotten, I tell yew! Y' owt tow be 
 struck, y' ought." 
 
 "What for?" demanded Mr. Pottle, with a murderous 
 brandish of the dogfish. 
 
 "Tellin' Hes!" yelled the other, as he dived out of the line 
 of fire. 
 
 "TeUin' lies? " snorted Mr. Pottle with a fine irony. "Ho! 
 An' I wish I may be struck flat on this deck if I 'ave." 
 
 He approached the ^'Liza Ann.' 
 
MY DOG AND I 85 
 
 He got his wish. Hawk had been laboriously clambering 
 up the bow of the smack, and at last poised on the side, from 
 whence he, losing his footing, rolled on to the back of Mr. 
 Pottle, who reclined with a savage bellow. Hawk seized him 
 by the neck and shook him violently. 
 
 *'I arrest you!" he skirled. 
 
 ''What for, sir?" asked the smack-master with caution, 
 for he had a sudden vision of a recent spree, in which he had 
 accounted for a pair of policemen, a barman, three glasses, 
 and a window. "It ain't that bit of a lark I 'ad up the old 
 town, is it?" 
 
 "It's not exactly fun," said Hawk grimly. "Smuggling. 
 Caught red-handed too, b' jove!" 
 
 Mr. Pottle's immediate reply took the form of a crash with 
 the dogfish in Hawk's face, which caused him to loosen his 
 hold in a second. To this reply the good Pottle added a few 
 more remarks in the shape of further dogfish arguments, 
 and as this particular denizen of the deep — known locally as 
 a Robinhuss — is long, thin and heavy, it curled with cruel 
 detail round the rotundities of his unfortunate captive. 
 
 " Me a smuggler, wots been bred and born 
 in the town, and got as good a repitation as 
 most? Yow bloomin' tripper! I've had 
 yowr kind before. Spent all your money, 
 an' tryin' to get a cheap lodgin' on my boat, 
 eh?" 
 
 Bang, whack, bang went the dogfish, like 
 a Greek chorus, and Hawk gasped out — ^^''' Pottle. 
 
 "Not a smuggler? Stop, there must be some mistake." 
 
 Mr. Pottle ceased, and leant against the mast to hear 
 Hawk's explanation. When that unfortunate finished the 
 smack-master sat down limply. 
 
 "It's so good as a play," he roared, "to think of old 
 Bill gettin' yow to believe that yarn! Never mind, my chap, 
 I forgive yow hearty." 
 
 Taking into consideration that he had thrashed Hawk 
 within an inch of his hfe, and worked off his spleen about the 
 
86 MY DOG AND I 
 
 nets, he was none too magnanimous. Hawk seemed to think 
 so too. 
 
 ''I'll have you up for assault!" he screamed, as the dog- 
 fish trade-marks began to throb. "I'll drag you through 
 every court there is, you brute I" 
 
 Mr. Pottle regarded him jocosely. There seemed to be a 
 richness about the situation which appealed to him. 
 
 "That's right. Look 'ow well it'll read in the noospapers: 
 A Fisherman arrested as a Smuggler by a Tripper wot 'e 
 'alf killed with a pore little fish! Go 'ome and get someone to 
 look arter yow." 
 
 With muttered threats of dire vengeance. Hawk stiffly 
 dragged to the side, cHmbed wearily on to it, and was as- 
 sisted by a parting flip of the fish, which caught him in the 
 rear, and caused him to spread-eagle on the beach. A glee- 
 ful chuckle came over the side as he picked himself up. 
 
 "Gi' my love to the coast-guards," floated after us as we 
 faded into the darkness. 
 
 After an interval, I fear a profane one on Hawk's part, I 
 remarked in a judicial tone — 
 
 "Perhaps this'fl teach you not to make quite such an 
 abject idiot of yourself." 
 
 "Your time's coming, my son!" he hissed. "I may have 
 misfortunes, but I at least haven't a dog." 
 
 We ran the gauntlet of the chuckling coast- 
 guards, who deplored Hawk's inability to 
 capture the smuggler, and the boating 
 Ananias, who still gazed out to sea with 
 every expression of interest until we ap- 
 proached, when he receded gracefully into 
 the distance, making as he went the night 
 hideous with a monologue imitation of Mr. 
 Pottle's voice and Hawk's shrieks; whilst I 
 dwelt with discalm on the Demon's possible 
 delinquencies in our absence. 
 Ananias. Directly we got inside the door of our 
 
 lodgings I perceived that my fears had not been groundless. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Refers to the landlady's bill for the dog's doings, and a night of unrest. The 
 cod again, and breakfast out. The kitchen lift and the dog. The ani- 
 mated breakfast and the waiter. We agree to relax. 
 
 The landlady met us in the passage with an appearance of 
 apoplexy, added to by a certain tremulousness about the 
 head which boded ill. 
 
 With one hand fluttering about the vast expanse of her 
 dingy blouse to indicate the state of her heart, she held in the 
 other a lengthy paper, and at sight of us panted, "Any thin' 
 right an' proper me an' me 'usbind don't mind, but reelly your 
 dog, gentlemen — which I 'opes you'll act as such — well, per- 
 haps it'd be more pleasanter for all parties if you'd settle as 
 you go along? 'Ere's the bill for what 'e's did to-night." 
 
 I had a hopeless feeling about our funds if the Demon 
 was going to run up expenses at the rate set down on her 
 document, which she had thrust into my hands. It ran as 
 follows: — 
 
 s. d. 
 
 2 tripe suppers 20 
 
 I pece of cole cod 10 
 
 ij^ peshun cat 10 o 
 
 I pint beer upset 03 
 
 I Bruken Jug 10 
 
 3 bites (me 'usbind) 15 o 
 
 4 chickins (when it was put in the yard) . . 12 o 
 I bottel Brandy (for me being upset) . . 40 
 Jeniral Damij 10 o 
 
 Total 2lb. 15/6 
 
 We proceeded to inspect the damage in a very chastened 
 frame and pointed out that the cat was not up to the estimate, 
 
 87 
 
88 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 The hill 
 
 whilst how a dog of the Demon's size could eat four fowls 
 without leaving a feather behind to prove his offense was 
 an abiding mystery. 
 
 '' 'E's a dreadful dog for happetite," 
 said the landlady. " You ought to 'ave 
 seen 'im gobblin' that cod up, which it 
 was a lovely piece, an' for the upstair 
 party to say it weren't fresh — well, 'ow 
 some people 'ave the face." 
 
 The bites we compromised on for 
 half a crown, one on the nose looking 
 suspiciously like a pimple; and the land- 
 lord coyly refused to expose the others 
 for valuation purposes. ''Where's 
 your modesty?" he had asked hotly. 
 
 As to the brandy. Hawk, as a lifelong 
 abstainer, sternly set his countenance 
 against it. He urged that alcohol in any form was prej- 
 udicial to health. The landlady's production of the empty 
 bottle (which had been evidently used to hold paraffin) set 
 him off into such a dissertation on hob-nailed liver that the 
 landlord had the strength of mind to pour the rest of his 
 beer into the scuttle, brightening up, however, on noticing he 
 had mistaken his wife's glass for his own. She, overawed by 
 Hawk's flood of words, wilted so much as to accept five 
 shilhngs in full settlement, which (unless the modest hus- 
 band's honorable wounds were not on a par with the van- 
 ished chickens) was a clear profit of four and six, as the cat 
 had no value. 
 
 "And now, where is the dog? " I asked. 
 ''He's a-sleepin' on the bed, I fancy, sir," 
 said the dame. "Pore Kttle thing, 'e quite 
 missed you! Come outside that affectionate" 
 — she pulled herself up in time — "that you'd Mr.Yandlady 
 never believe 'e 'ad it in 'im to bite." 
 
 When I reached our apartments Hawk had already monop- 
 olized the sofa and all the available cushions; and as the bed 
 
MY DOG AND I 89 
 
 had been occupied by the landlord all day — from its appear- 
 ance, for many days, — and the Demon was stretched on the 
 pillow, I searched vainly for a place to lay me down. 
 
 The leg of the table kindly suggested the floor by the 
 homely method of getting its legs in the way, the arm-chair 
 (the one arm-chair) seemed to be full of clever wire traps to 
 prod and pinch the unwary, and the round table-top rose 
 up and slid me off when I tried to turn it into a dewy couch. 
 
 I cogitated strenuously for some time before the idea struck 
 me to awaken Hawk and collar the sofa. 
 
 " Hst ! " I said, as I dug him in the side, " wake up. There's 
 been someone at the door for you. Sounded like your 
 smuggler friend." 
 
 "Has he, by jingo?" shouted the warlike little man, as 
 he jumped off the sofa. "Has he? I'll jolly well give him 
 ask for me," and dashed into the passage. 
 
 As I made myself comfortable on the sofa he came back. 
 
 " There's no one there, you ass ! " said he bitterly. " Fancy, 
 v/aking a chap up like that! Pity you're not — why, where's 
 he got to?" His eye roved over the most unlikely places 
 first, and glared suspiciously up the chimney, in strict ac- 
 cordance with his mad scheme of life, and finally sighted me, 
 needless to say, deeply, unwakably asleep. I heard him 
 growl to himself, and then was almost startled into opening 
 my eyes by a sudden yell of " Fire ! " in my left ear. " Wake up, 
 Dobbs, the place is alight!" 
 
 I snored; he snorted. After an interval came — 
 
 "Dobbs, the landlady wants you; the Demon's killed her 
 husband." 
 
 "Dear old Demon!" I murmured, and snored again. 
 
 Hawk took a dejected stroll round the room and came 
 back. 
 
 "Dear old Demon!" I breathed again. 
 
 His answer was to plant the dog square on my chest. 
 
 "If you're so fond of him, take him," he shouted, and 
 stalked into the bedroom. 
 
 But I knew his wiles. He would watch until I shook the 
 
90 MY DOG AND I 
 
 pup off, and during the shaking he'd pitch me off the sofa. 
 So I lay with the Demon's weight over my left lung, and 
 waited until I heard Hawk, with audible disgust, make up a 
 bed on the floor, where I shortly joined him, the sofa having 
 succumbed to the combined weight of the Demon and myself. 
 
 The night passed quickly, for, tired out as we were, we 
 could have slept in a phonograph factory during blasting 
 operations with the greatest ease. I awoke to hear our kind 
 landlady tapping on the door with her fist, and asking our 
 views on breakfast. The mere mention of food woke Hawk. 
 He answered, ''Just a httle coffee, some bacon and eggs, you 
 know, and toast and marmalade and that sort of thing, 
 what? " She seemed to think it was a nice breakfast, but at 
 the same time she had no bacon or eggs, neither was she 
 possessed of coffee or marmalade. 
 
 "No eggs from those fowls you talked about?" demanded 
 Hawk through the keyhole. 
 
 "They was roosters, sir," she answered blandly, and 
 stated, although she had nothing we asked for, she could 
 let us have some fish, boiled or fried. 
 
 "What kind of fish?" I asked. 
 
 With a fine disregard for her bill of last night, she an- 
 swered — 
 
 "A nice bit of cod, sir." 
 
 It was that extremely fishy bit of fish that, metaphorically 
 speaking, became the last straw to break our camels backs. 
 We began to understand why people shunned the Ishmaelites; 
 and we both in chorus assured her we would breakfast out 
 to save her the trouble of cooking. The next few minutes 
 were devoted to dressing at speed Hmit and a bit over. 
 
 On the safe side of the front door Hawk stopped abruptly. 
 I knew those stops of old. They presaged either a weighty 
 decision or the request for a loan, if his fiendish trade of 
 supplying youth in the bud with marrow freezers at so much 
 per thousand words had not paid well for a while. In this 
 case my friend had stopped to register a vow. It was rather a 
 pity he had not let the Demon know he was going to stop, 
 
MY DOG AND I 91 
 
 for the pup, who was not told to stand still, got mixed up 
 with Hawk's legs, to the latter's great disgust. When he had 
 fluently described the antecedents of the Demon, and what 
 he hoped in the fullness of time might happen to him, he re- 
 turned to the cause of his solemn stop. 
 
 '^Hear me swear," he said. 
 
 I told him that I had just been favored with a fine speci- 
 men of his adjectival facilities, and greatly admired them, so 
 he could surely rest on his laurels; but he thought different. 
 
 ''No, hear me swear a most solemn swear, to the effect 
 that I hereby, and all my heirs, tenements, ground rents, and 
 net personality, do renounce, revoke, abjure, and otherwise 
 utterly condemn, despise and loathe the piscatorial animal 
 known and called and reputed to be Cod. ... By jingo! 
 that phraseology would come in well in a book, what? Can't 
 you see the old squire cussing it out to the family solicitor, 
 whilst the prodigal son is collaring the silver through the 
 pantry window?" 
 
 ''Oh, shut up!" I said. "I'm famished, and I don't want 
 the hfe taken out of my appetite by your beastly reminder 
 about that Jonah fish." 
 
 "Well, what are you standing here for, then?" he growled. 
 "Let's find a restaurant." 
 
 After two or three false shots we came to one, and cheered 
 up at the thought of a good meal. It was one of Hawk's 
 pecuHarities to affect a most cosmopoUtan knowledge of lan- 
 guages, possibly because he found them handy to cuss in 
 when his mere English phrases gave out. At the same time 
 there was no necessity to befog an obviously Scotch waiter 
 with requests in a mixture of French, Itahan, and German, 
 especially as we were hungry. In fact, the waiter said if he 
 used that language in here, he'd have to fetch the proprietor. 
 The waiter said he could understand language after a meal 
 at that restaurant, but to waste it before testing the work of 
 their chef was a thing which might afterwards be bitterly 
 regretted when adjectives ran out. So when his knowledge of 
 tongues was vindicated to his own, if nobody else's satisfac- 
 
92 MY DOG AND I 
 
 tion, Hawk descended to his native lingo, and soundly be- 
 rated the waiter for not bringing the menu before. All this 
 waste of time exasperated me. I wanted my breakfast. So 
 I kicked out at Hawk under the table as a mild way of letting 
 him know I despised him altogether as a breakfast orderer. 
 
 Unfortunately, I landed the Demon instead of Hawk, and 
 in a tender spot too, where, I was unable to see, as he was 
 under the table amongst my legs. Whereupon that wretched 
 dog fled for the first cover he could find, which happened to be 
 the kitchen lift — one of those shafts down which a waiter 
 bawls your order, and in a few minutes pulls a rope, and up 
 the lift, from the chamber of weird deeds below, comes the 
 sole of an old boot fried in train oil and garnished with little 
 bits of fried wood. That, at least, is what your palate makes 
 of it, although the waiter calls it steak and chips. 
 
 Down this the Demon plunged, his disappearance followed 
 by sundry crashes and woeful noises as of agony. The 
 waiter tore from a table where he was in the act of pouring 
 coffee out for an old gentleman, and flew to the lift, still pour- 
 ing coffee on the floor and anything else that came in his way. 
 He dragged at the rope with both hands, his preposterous 
 little legs flew off the ground in his eagerness, and after a few 
 hefty pulls up shot a most fearsome object, which appalled 
 both Hawk and myself. It entirely 
 •• '•• • . overcame Hawk, who fled precipi- 
 
 tately under the table, and took the 
 cloth and cruet with him by accident. 
 "My stars!" I heard him groan, 
 ''I'm going mad on food! First that 
 cod, and now our breakfast comes to 
 life." 
 
 For a moment it almost seemed as 
 if he were right, unless this awful 
 The apparition. thing was a visitation on the waiter 
 
 for overcharging. 
 It had two squashed poached eggs for eyes; its body was 
 plastered with a mixture of rashers, marmalade, pieces of 
 
MY DOG AND I 93 
 
 toast, and pats of butter. It wore pieces of broken plate 
 also, and over all was some liquid which steamed and smoked. 
 With a gibber that merged into a howl, the apparition leaped 
 upon the waiter, who went down as if shot; then it sped out 
 of the door like an arrow. 
 
 "Has it gone?" whispered Hawk from his cave under the 
 table. ''Do you think it could have been the spirit of that 
 cod come to persuade us to eat its earthly shape so it could 
 rest? " 
 
 "Yes, it's gone," I answered, "and the Demon too; also 
 our breakfast. He must have met it coming up as he went 
 down." 
 
 We had to wait another half-hour whilst another lot was 
 cooked. The waiter in the interim was really offensive on the 
 matter of breakages. We pointed out to him if he thought 
 fit to not keep his grub chained up, as the best gorgonzolas 
 are, he must take the consequences of it running away. Not 
 only that, Hawk added, but the food that came up seemed 
 to have eaten our dog, unless it was that when the dog went 
 down they sent the poached-egg creature up to create a diver- 
 sion whilst they converted the pup into 
 jugged hare. It was all very well, said 
 Hawk, to come talking to us about broken 
 plates, but how did we know that the gazeeb 
 that came up that lift wasn't some poor cod 
 left over the last time the auditors came and 
 carried forward to the next balance sheet, 
 and in the meantime the poor thing had got 
 so high it had ascended rocketwise? 
 
 And for the matter of that, I added, why 
 should we be asked to pay for things we'd 
 never done? We hadn't been near the ^^ * 
 
 kitchen lift, and we certainly felt he owed us a breakfast 
 (he had to admit the one we ordered had vanished) ; and if he 
 couldn't break in his breakfasts properly, so that they didn't 
 go cavorting off directly they got into the fresh air, the 
 sooner he took lessons in ju-jitsu, or whatever was necessary 
 
94 MY DOG AND I 
 
 to subdue unruly eggs and bacon, the better. Besides, think 
 of the advertisement he'd have got, even if it had been our 
 dog got mixed up with the grub in the Hft. If he'd only have 
 hung a card round its neck before it dodged off with "This 
 is One of Our Shilling Breakfasts" on it, he'd have had such a 
 run on the place he'd have had to enlarge the premises. I 
 fancy he came to the conclusion we were both a little touched; 
 for after staring at us with his mouth open, he went away in 
 silence, and was so cowed that if we hadn't called for the bill 
 at the finish he would never have offered it to us. 
 
 With his mouth full of toast (second order, of course), 
 Hawk became gloomy w^hen he considered our future with 
 the Demon. 
 
 "He'll smash us up yet," he groaned. "He's a regular 
 evil spirit. Five bob and a breakfast for two to his account 
 since last night. I must try to work him off somehow." 
 
 Mention of the Demon brought my troubles up again, so 
 I begged Hawk to dry up and be cheerful. 
 
 "We're pretty sure to get into a fine mess when our recent 
 acts start paying dividends, so you might just as well sug- 
 gest some way of enlivening our few remaining days of liberty 
 before the crash comes. What shall we do now? " 
 
 "Right-o," he answered, "we'll away with dull care, and 
 hie for the open road and generally cavort, shall we? " 
 
 "So far as quiet enjoyment goes, I'm with you," said I, 
 as he rose to pay the bill, and this settled, we walked 
 out. 
 
 The Demon, sleek and satisfied, hove in view at once. He 
 looked happy, and there remained nothing of our break- 
 fast except the yolk of one egg over his left eye, which 
 he was doing his best to reach with a long but ineffective 
 tongue. 
 
 He wagged a gleeful tail at us and fell in behind, to share 
 our joys and help us into sorrows. Hawk led the way to the 
 Front, and pointed out, quite unnecessarily, that if it hadn't 
 been for him, instead of enjoying sea breezes in congenial 
 company I should be mewed up in Middewick, and getting 
 
MY DOG AND I 95 
 
 more and more thick-headed. As it was, I had every chance 
 to enlarge my mind and mingle with the gay throng. 
 
 I reserved my opinion on the matter. I knew Hawk's 
 placid remarks usually led up to some fool outburst, and there 
 was a growing gleam in his eye which pointed to develop- 
 ments in the near future. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Shows how Hawk bought a guinea-pig, and its pier experiences. The dog has 
 a hunt, and the guinea-pig seeks cover. The gouty gentleman in flannel 
 and a Bath chair, who, with the dog and the guinea-pig, hastens the 
 diving of the high diver, whom Hawk mistakenly rescues, and he rescues 
 Hawk, and both have a lively time through the elusiveness of the dog. 
 
 We spent a pleasant quarter of an hour in walking towards 
 the pier and wrangling over the many incidents that had 
 come our way. I was convinced, and said so, that the begin- 
 ning of our troubles was due to Hawk; at least, Hawk and the 
 dog. He, on the other hand, seemed satisfied that he was 
 really the angel out of the machine, as it were, and that had 
 it not been for him I should now, as he picturesquely put it, 
 *'be standing on the guillotine with a halter round my neck." 
 It came to me suddenly that the best way to answer him would 
 be to shove him into a pack of donkeys, standing at hand, to 
 catch the coppers of the unwary. This, with the cryptic 
 remark "Birds of a feather," I did. However, even his own 
 kind rejected him, and instead of putting the blame on them 
 for not making a fuss of him, he most incontinently raved at 
 me. 
 
 "Goat-like tricks worthy of a board school," he blared. 
 "Now I know why I was so anxious to get you on the pier. 
 One accidental push, and then it will only remain to finish the 
 dog up too. You've brought us to a fine enough pass without 
 acting the fool." 
 
 He'd have said a lot more, only at this point a miserable- 
 looking man in frayed trousers and a rubicund nose (he wore 
 other things as well, but these stood out) caught his volatile 
 attention, and he stopped. 
 
 The man shuffled up and thrust something that wriggled 
 into my hand. I don't like things that wriggle, so I quickly 
 transferred it to Hawk. 
 
 96 
 
MY DOG AND I 97 
 
 ''Why, it's a guinea-pig!" said Hawk. "Whoop! Watch 
 me hold him up by the eyes for his tail to drop out." 
 
 He started to fool about with the unfortunate animal, 
 whilst the man with the nose urged him to buy it. 
 
 ^'Itsh a nashral curioshty," said the man, "an' as I mush 
 'ave s' money for my pore child an' sheven starvin' wivesh — 
 anyhow, y' know worri mean, guvnor. You can 'ave it f'r 
 quid. Lovely lill' guinea-pigsh f'r shovreign. Givin' it awy, 
 thash wor I am," he added with a philanthropic lurch. 
 
 There was no doubt he was giving it away, and it was 
 typical of Hawk to make an exhibition of himself by chaffer- 
 ing for guinea-pigs with a maudlin tramp, in broad daylight 
 too. 
 
 "I'll give you fourpence," said Hawk, after examining the 
 pig. "You see, it's evidently a damaged one — no tail, you 
 know." 
 
 " 'And it over," said the tramp with another lurch, and to 
 my horror Hawk did so, and after the tramp had bidden the 
 guinea-pig a weeping farewell, he gathered it up in his arms 
 and tenderly marched along with it. 
 
 "What did you want to buy that for?" I asked in dis- 
 gust. 
 
 "You've got a pig of a dog, so why shouldn't I have a Httle 
 pigglums too?" he demanded, as he caressed his purchase. 
 "Never saw such a selfish chap. I've as much right to take 
 my pig on the pier for a blow as you have to take a dog." 
 
 It maddened me to have to walk with a conspicuous idiot 
 who fondled a piebald guinea-pig. Everybody stared. 
 
 "Put it down," I hissed. 
 
 "Certainly," said Hawk. He produced a piece of string 
 from his pocket, to which he tied his pet with exaggerated 
 care. "Come along, darling," he went on in a high falsetto 
 voice. "I simply dote on pomeranians." 
 
 As he kept this sort of jest up the whole length of the pier, 
 it speaks well for my restraint that I didn't pitch him, pig 
 and all, over the side; but just when my feelings were getting 
 beyond me the Demon took it into his head to play at fox- 
 
98 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 hunting, with the pig for fox. The pig hurriedly took shelter 
 in the Bath chair of a somnolent invahd, who had one leg 
 ominously cased in flannel, and gave evidence of another 
 one also wrapped under his many rugs. 
 
 "Thank goodness, it's gone at lastl" I exclaimed. 
 
 "You don't mean to say you imagine I shall desert that pig 
 in the hour of its affliction, do you?" demanded Hawk. 
 "How dare that old flannelled fool hide my pig? I'll jolly 
 soon show him I" 
 
 It was never any use to dissuade him, so I let him go his own 
 mad way, which in this instance took him up to the slumberer, 
 whom he tapped on the shoulder. 
 
 "Excuse me, but are you aware you've got my pig?" 
 asked Hawk politely. 
 
 The guinea-pig took shelter in a bath chair. 
 
 ^^EhV^ said the old man, waking up, and giving a ferocious 
 snort. 
 
 "My pig," exclaimed Hawk. 
 
 "Who are you calling a pig?" roared the old fellow. 
 "Demme, for two pins " 
 
MY DOG AND I 99 
 
 "No doubt, but I want my pig," persisted Hawk, "my 
 pretty little guinea-pig." 
 
 "Are you mad, sir? I haven't got your blessed pig. 
 Fancy I'm a farmyard thief, eh? Do I look as though I was 
 a pig purloiner?" 
 
 "You do," replied Hawk, "and you've got it about you 
 now." 
 
 "Oh, I have, have I? What the dooce do you mean?" 
 sneered the other, blue in the face with rage and suppressed 
 gout. "And where might I have concealed it, you demmed 
 impident scamp?" 
 
 "Well, I saw it get into your chair, but if you persist you 
 haven't got it I must simply see my solicitor," said Hawk in a 
 lofty tone. 
 
 As he spoke the guinea-pig started a tour of inspection with 
 a view to food, and he is hardly to be blamed for thinking 
 the flannel casings of the invalid's legs to be some new kind 
 of guinea-pig entree, although he need not have bitten 
 through to the gout at once. 
 
 The old gentleman gave one awful yell and bounce, and 
 flung himself out of the chair, which he unfortunately 
 brought over with him. 
 
 This action thoroughly disorganized Hawk's pet, and in 
 self-defense it took several more bites at the gout, on which 
 it blamed the upheaval. The old boy bellowed and grovelled 
 under the upturned chair, while the guinea-pig, whose pied 
 hindquarters we could discern feverishly struggling, hung 
 on like grim death. The Demon saw the pig too, and re- 
 membered he had not completed his hunt, so he broke cover 
 once more, and burrowed under the chair too. That he 
 mistook the white flannel-cased foot for the guinea-pig's 
 back should not be laid to his account too strongly. We 
 are all Hable to make mistakes. How the incident really 
 ended I know not, for Hawk led me away to less moving 
 scenes. 
 
 "Now you can understand why I speculated fourpenceon it, 
 Dobbs. Trust a guinea-pig to give you an insight into human 
 
loo MY DOG AND I 
 
 nature. By this time the old boy's eyes will have dropped 
 out, even if the pig's haven't." 
 
 At the pier-head stood a man who mechanically intoned 
 a kind of chant. ''This way for the Haigh Daiving; the 
 Haigh Daiving this way." Sixteen times to the minute he 
 gave this message to the world, and only got out of his 
 stride because Hawk foolishly tried to put a penny in his 
 mouth, "to see," he explained, "if he couldn't turn on a 
 song for a change." 
 
 Behind the man was erected a horizontal board, which 
 stretched well over the water, and was evidently for the 
 Haigh Daiver to tumble off. 
 
 I wondered if, in the absence of anyone else, the chanter 
 was to disport personally for our edification when he had 
 finished the address to his constituents. But it turned out 
 the original Simon Pure was commercially engaged on the 
 lower deck, clothed in a fierce red mustache, an elderly red 
 dressing-gown and several purple shivers, taking up a col- 
 lection before the event, to prevent his audience appearing 
 mean by slyly fading away before he had time to get out of 
 the water. A very sensible idea, that showed an acquaintance 
 with human weaknesses which did him credit. 
 
 Hawk was engaged. He was making the eyes of respectful 
 admiration that are known as sheep's eyes at a girl in a red 
 blouse and picture-postcard teeth. I formed a poor opinion 
 of her at once, on the fact that she could simper when looked 
 at by such a fish-eyed moonstruck idiot as Hawk at the 
 moment appeared. 
 
 At last the diver prepared for business. After thought- 
 fully handing the money-box to his high priest, in case he did 
 not come up again, he discarded the dressing-gown and 
 shone resplendent in a blue bathing suit, in which he ran 
 nimbly along the diving-board and turned and harangued 
 the crowd from its end. They stood round with that look 
 of interest only seen on a crowd's face when something 
 possibly dangerous is about to be performed, and some of 
 them wore an expression of positive regret when they saw 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 lOI 
 
 there was nothing for him to strike his head on when he 
 dived. 
 
 The good diver, having in detail reviewed his past suc- 
 cesses, animadverted on the pretensions of all other high 
 divers, affectionately commended the money-box to our 
 interest again (and seemed half incHned to take it round and 
 explain its uses once more), and warned his familiar to keep 
 it handy, turned towards the sea. 
 
 Hawk was so taken up with the toothy female that he saw 
 nothing of the diver, which makes his subsequent misfortune 
 clear. 
 
 At the psychological moment when the diver, after a last 
 fervent commendation of the money-box to all, raised his 
 hands to dive, I heard a succession of violent thuds behind me, 
 and the Demon flew by, up the diving-board steps, along the 
 board, and through the diver's 
 legs, causing that unhappy man 
 to reel, somersault, yell, and 
 enter the water with a terrific 
 splash just after the Demon 
 did. 
 
 The reason for the Demon's 
 desire for change of scenery ar- 
 rived the next moment in the 
 shape of a roaring mass of ani- 
 mated gout, which in the person 
 of the old invalid gentleman 
 pranced to the side, and flung 
 the mangled remains of his flan- 
 
 The Demon flew by. 
 
 nel wraps into the sea. The guinea-pig was non est, and 
 never appeared again, so I concluded it must have been 
 mixed up in the flannel. 
 
 Hawk heard the yells and splash without having seen the 
 cause, and as his fair unknown had gone down to the lower 
 deck, he rashly concluded that she, driven crazy by sudden 
 affection for him, had sought a watery grave rather than 
 marry another. (In reaUty she had gone below to finish a 
 
I02 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 bag of shrimps she felt would 
 soulfulness if eaten in his sight.) 
 Hawk, therefore, threw off 
 
 have been detrimental to 
 
 Rescued. 
 
 his coat and hat, bravely 
 ramped along the diving- 
 board, and sprang off the 
 end. I saw him reach the 
 waves and disappear, to rise 
 again with a large bunch of 
 seaweed over his head and 
 eyes, whilst he struggled 
 with the indignant diver, 
 whom he blindly took for 
 the shrimp lady. 
 His voice came up to me as he besought her not to struggle 
 but to leave all to him. 
 
 "Let yourself go, my dear," puffed Hawk, ''don't struggle, 
 there's a good girl. I'll soon have you out," as he grappled 
 with the frenzied diver. 
 
 "Let go, you lunatic!" raved the diver. "What are you 
 playing at?" 
 
 "Hush, my pretty one!" pleaded Hawk, who supported 
 his writhing burden with one arm, whilst he tried to swim 
 with the other, and pull his seaweed bandage off at the same 
 time. "Trust me, dear one. Dash this seaweed! What the 
 dooce are you wriggling for?" he complained, his speechless 
 burden wrenching madly at his arm. "If you're not quiet 
 I'll have to duck you for your own sake, my dear," Hawk 
 spluttered. 
 
 "I'll give you duck, you flat-footed walrus!" screamed the 
 diver with a wild plunge. "It's bad enough to be upset by a 
 blank dog and have your show spoiled, without a blank mer- 
 maid lunatic to drop from the clouds on me and blank well 
 coo." 
 
 "You will have it then?" Hawk gasped, and dragged the 
 diver below the surface. 
 
 When they rose Hawk's coronet of seaweed had come off, 
 and we obtained an astonished and uninterrupted view of a 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 103 
 
 highly hectic high diver giving an exhibition of fancy ball 
 punching (with Hawk's head for the ball) in the water, to a 
 delighted audience on the pier. 
 
 " But Where's the girl? " gulped Hawk, as he warded off the 
 blows as well as he could. 
 
 "What girl?" shouted the diver, as he gave Hawk a slam 
 in the chest. 
 
 " Why," croaked Hawk, '' a lovely female fell into the water, 
 and I dived in to rescue her, not an overgrown whelk with 
 the D.T.'s.' 
 
 "Well, where is she?" asked the diver, who stopped his 
 blows and trod water. 
 
 "Drowned by now," answered Hawk with a bitter sneer. 
 
 The diver scanned the crested waves and sighted something 
 which floated at a distance. I, from my vantage point, could 
 have informed him it was the Demon, but I never like to spoil 
 sport. 
 
 "Jiminy, there she is!" exclaimed he, just as the Demon 
 disappeared under a wave. Both swam eagerly towards the 
 spot, but when they reached it no sight of a beautiful creature 
 in distress gladdened their eyes. 
 
 "She's sunk I" howled Hawk, and dived frantically, the 
 diver nobly doing the same. They didn't find her down there, 
 but it was very evident they found each other, for they arose 
 in fond embrace. 
 
 "Got her!" yelled the diver in exultant tones. 
 
 "At last, my darling!" burbled Hawk. 
 
 Then they both saw who "her" was, and fisted the dual 
 lady in the eye. 
 
 "You bloated porpoise!" snorted the enraged diver, "I 
 nearly had her if you hadn't stuck your ugly carcass in the 
 way." 
 
 "And I just touched her hair when your infernal foot got 
 me in the mouth," shouted Hawk. 
 
 To keep the interest up the Demon came upon them sud- 
 denly, by way of the crest of a wave, and both snatched 
 wildly at what they thought was the fair one's raven locks, 
 
I04 MY DOG AND I 
 
 only to catch each other a clumsy grab in the face instead. 
 This naturally started them again, when Hawk happened 
 to glance towards the pier, and saw his inamorata in the calm 
 enjoyment of shrimps and his antics. 
 
 ''Why, she never fell in at all!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "What a liar you are!" fumed the diver. "Haven't we 
 both just missed her?" 
 
 " How could we, when she never fell in? " blared Hawk, in a 
 voice easily bearable at Eastbourne. 
 
 "What was it, then?" asked the perplexed diver. 
 
 "How should I know, fathead?" answered Hawk in cold 
 fury, and aimed a blow at the other. 
 
 They sank in fierce combat once more, and the Demon 
 thought this a good opportunity to come up between them, 
 getting away on a friendly wave before they realized what it 
 was. 
 
 " Holy smoke! What w^as that? " asked the diver. 
 
 "Perhaps it was a shark!" gruesomely suggested Hawk. 
 
 At this both leapt out of the water with great celerity. 
 
 "Here it comes again!" gibbered the diver, as the Demon 
 showed momentarily near them, a statement which caused 
 both to beat a precipitate retreat tow^ards the pier. The 
 Demon paddled leisurely along behind them, and reached 
 the iron steps leading to the deck almost as soon as they did. 
 
 With many shudders, the two hunted swimmers climbed out 
 of the water, and stopped to gasp thankfully on the steps, in 
 time to see the Demon drag himself out of the sea, shake, and 
 sit down to dry. They glowered at him with incredulous eyes. 
 
 "Was that your girl?" asked Hawk. 
 
 "Was that your shark?" asked the diver, and added, as 
 the remembrance of his wrongs scorched him, "And I've had 
 my show spoilt by a blessed pup and a bally lunatic, have 
 I? Wait till I get dry, and I'll attend to you, my friend." 
 
 "I'm your man!" fumed Hawk, as mute wdth rage they 
 ascended to the upper deck, where a cheering crowd awaited 
 them. The Demon proudly brought up the rear. The diver 
 began to explain to his assistant the enormities of Hawk. 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 loS 
 
 "Queered the whole blank show with his blankety blank 
 blankness," he growled. The assistant, however, instead of 
 joining against Hawk, whispered eager words into his master's 
 ear. 
 
 "What, full do you say?" asked the diver. 
 
 "Filled to the brim," replied the other, "and half my 
 pockets too. The people simply showered money on me. 
 They said they'd never seen an entertainment like it." 
 
 The clouds left that diver's face, and he turned a sunny 
 look on Hawk. 
 
 "My dear old chap," he enthused, with outstretched hand, 
 "will you join the show? We ought to mint money." 
 
 But Hawk's soul was bitter within him, and he rejected the 
 diver's friendly overtures, preferring to chevy the Demon 
 round the deck with futile kicks until that hunted doe sought 
 sanctuary in my arms. Wet as he was, my heart went out to 
 him after the way he had dealt with Hawk. 
 
 "Let me get hold of the beggar! " said the latter with blood- 
 thirsty calm. 
 
 "Certainly not. You can't blame all your idiocy on the 
 poor dog. He shall follow us to the bitter end. Who knows 
 but that if I produce him in the dock Uncle Boscobel will 
 relent?" 
 
 "I'm not inclined to stand here and Hsten to your blither. 
 I'm going to get my things dried. If you play any more of 
 your childish games, you and your dog, don't expect me to 
 support you," he said, and marched off to get his coat, which 
 some enthusiastic person had thrown into the sea after him, 
 and three boys with a fishing-rod were having the time of 
 their hves catching. 
 
 I sat and ruminated on many things, which included Hawk's 
 twisted mind, the surface capacity of the Demon's coat for 
 salt water, and the fact that I was hungry. The last seemed 
 most important, so I followed Hawk's wet tracks. 
 
 The question of the future on top of an empty inner man 
 lay on my mind like a blight, and the Demon lay damp and 
 shivering in my arms. What would happen next? 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 In which Hawk dries his only suit. The piano as a clothes-horse. That 
 awful cod drives me out. Hawk's dire troubles during my absence. 
 The piano-tuner. The dog introduces him to the lady in search of 
 rooms — and the lady's husband. Hawk manages to throw the blame 
 on me by playing the wrong card. We go bathing. The dog again 
 causes trouble. 
 
 On our return, Hawk stalked into our palatial sitting-room, 
 flung himself into a chair, and made remarks about divers and 
 the universe in general. 
 
 ''It's all the fault of that cussed hound of yours, Dobbs," 
 he grumped. ''Here I am, doing all I can to help a chap 
 through his troubles, and he must go and bring a fool dog 
 along to help drown his best friend. Think w^hat a mess you'd 
 be in if it wasn't for me. You'd be under arrest for trying to 
 boil your Uncle alive, also for nearly killing a policeman, and 
 for setting your dog on to an inoffensive old geezer and her 
 son. Why, it don't bear thinking about. You never " 
 
 "Steady!" I interrupted. "If it hadn't been for your con- 
 founded interference, I'd very likely be seated by now^ in 
 Uncle's best drawdng-room, with the old boy dissolved in 
 affectionate tears on my shoulder." 
 
 "Tears of rage or a tearing rage, more likely," sneered 
 Hawk. 
 
 Beastly way that fellow had of belittling one's finer feelings. 
 To my mind, the thought of dear old Uncle Boscobel seated 
 on my knee and crying with quiet joy at the prodigal's return, 
 whilst Pectora killed the fatted chicken in the yard, was in- 
 finitely pathetic. There is something in the thought of Uncle 
 crying gently whilst I wiped his tears with his coat-tails that 
 brings a lump in my throat even now; and there is no doubt 
 at all if I had endeavored to wipe Uncle's weeps away with 
 anything, let alone a frock-coat's caudal appendages, I should 
 have had lumps elsewhere besides my throat. Hawk always 
 
 io6 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 107 
 
 was a rotten materialistic chap though, and instead of con- 
 templating the affecting picture I had conjured up, he 
 moodily dripped into the bedroom to disrobe. 
 
 You remember there was a piano in the bedroom? So did 
 Hawk. I felt interested to know what the next person who 
 played on it would think of the tone, for Hawk had emulated 
 our landlady by the use to which he put the instrument. 
 
 By the time he had finished, that piano might have passed 
 for a second-hand clothes shop, a prize-winner at a fancy dress 
 ball, or a portrait of a bachelor's home after an explosion — 
 in fact, as anything but a piano. 
 
 The candle sconces were decorated with a wet boot each; 
 the music rest bore a well-soaked pair of braces and a collar 
 and tie festooned around it; a pair of trousers gracefully 
 draped themselves over the keys; whilst a coat, shirt and 
 waistcoat hid the top from view, and allowed rivulets of sea- 
 water to meander down the sides of the 
 thing with quite water-fallish effects. 
 Round the legs — it was one of those 
 pianos with legs and more other orna- 
 mental woodwork than its melody war- 
 ranted — were twisted other garments of a 
 more intimate nature, and the pedals 
 were decently covered with a pair of 
 socks, the mauve of which ran into the 
 green stripes with fearsome results to the 
 artistic eye. 
 
 In front of this musical clothes-horse 
 stood a stern, Roman-toga'd individual — 
 Hawk in a counterpane. It was awkward 
 he had omitted to bring a change of 
 clothes. 
 
 ''If you were half a chap," he said, 
 menacing me with a fistful of his toga, 
 ''you'd lend me your things to wear till mine dried. You 
 could easily go to bed. If it was you now who had been so 
 unfortunate as to fall into the sea, I should have been the first 
 
 A stern, Roman-toga^d 
 individual. 
 
io8 MY DOG AND I 
 
 to Who the dickens is that at the door? Wait, you fool, 
 
 whilst I hide." 
 
 ''Would you like any lunch, sirs?" came the dulcet voice 
 of our landlady. 
 
 I was just going to say Yes, when I saw a bare arm wave 
 negatively from behind the piano, and heard a whisper, 
 "Cod!" So I opened the door an inch or two and said No, 
 and that I was just going out to get something cold sent in, 
 to save her the trouble of a lunch. 
 
 "No trouble, sir," she said kindly; "I've got a nice bit o' 
 cold fish, I thought you'd like as a snack, for I says to meself , 
 they'll come in 'ungry, and they'll just fancy a nice piece of 
 cod with 'arvey sorce." 
 
 I don't know how I managed to speak, but I led her to 
 understand I was there and then going out to hurry up the 
 lunch, which I was careful to say we had ordered on our way 
 back. It was most kind of her to think of us, and if we 
 hadn't already got some lunch coming in, we should have 
 thoroughly enjoyed the cod — here I heard her murmur it was 
 fresh, despite what the mysterious party had said about it — 
 and I was sorry I couldn't stop to chat, but I really must be 
 off, with which I closed the door. 
 
 "You're not going to leave me like this?" exclaimed 
 Hawk, as he emerged from behind the piano. 
 
 "Well, if I don't go out now, she'll only bring that fish up 
 again; and I don't know how you feel, but if I don't have 
 some grub soon I shall go into a gentle decline." 
 
 "Well, don't be long," he said in a doleful voice. "Bring 
 in a tongue and some Basses and a bottle or two of Scotch, 
 because if my things don't dry to-day I shall want something 
 to amuse myself with. And you might get a box of cigars 
 and some sardines; and, by the way, it'll be awkward to have 
 to go out again, so make it two bottles of Scotch and a couple 
 of siphons. I know what a beggar you are for tonics." 
 
 This was such a barefaced and cruel assertion I was sud- 
 denly impelled to smite him upon the crest, as they have it 
 in historical books, and only avoided his return charge 
 
MY DOG AND I 109 
 
 through his ignorance of the ways of counterpane togas. I 
 left him a struggling heap upon the floor with a happy black 
 puppy thoroughly enjoying the game. 
 
 It may have been reprehensible, but I did not hurry 
 myself. I certainly went to a sandwich merchant's and 
 satisfied my own immediate gnawfulness, and also looked 
 about for a really good place to order lunch from, but I 
 wisely didn't take the first that came to hand. I knew Hawk 
 would grumble, if it wasn't a tip-top lunch, and sooner than 
 upset him, I would stop out all day till I did find the exact 
 thing. Moreover, at best he was a poor companion, full of 
 grumbles and strange cuss-words, and there would be no 
 harm in letting him stew for a bit, as until his clothes were 
 dry he was comparatively innocuous. 
 
 In the meantime I would have a look round free from 
 Hawks and other wildfowl. So I ambled down to the beach, 
 and hired me a small boat with a man to row it. My first 
 idea was to have a three hours' trip on the briny, but on my 
 discovering that all the money I possessed was half a crown 
 (for Hawk held our joint funds), we compromised on a 
 shilling ''there and back." I do not know how far "there" 
 was, but it was effective. 
 
 For fear of accidents, I decided to hang on to my remaining 
 eighteen pence, and therefore spent a free two hours in the 
 local museum, where I found a shark with an expression just 
 like Hawk's when he smiled; then filled in another hour or so 
 browsing in second-hand bookshops. 
 
 The Demon and Hawk seemed remote, things of an uneasy 
 dream; and, to tell the truth, if I hadn't remembered my 
 favorite pipe was inside the piano, I think I should have let 
 them remain remote. But a favorite pipe is a sacred thing, 
 and not to be deserted, so I turned back, my only pause being 
 to order a cold collation to be sent in. 
 
 Seven struck as I arrived. The collation must have pre- 
 ceded me, for I was in time to see a hand appear round our 
 door, drop some coins into the landlady's paw, which she 
 transferred to a youth from the ham and beef shop, who 
 
no MY DOG AND I 
 
 waited on the doorstep. It struck me as I passed her that 
 she wore a look of indignation, as if the food sent in was, in a 
 way, a reflection on her tame cold lunch, but as it might have 
 been grime, I took no notice. 
 
 The Demon leapt joyously to meet me, though of Hawk 
 there was not a vestige. A grampus-like rumble from the 
 direction of the piano, however, announced his whereabouts. 
 
 "Get out of here!" he roared. "This is the private room 
 of a gentleman with a bad attack of the ditherums just about 
 to commence." 
 
 I waited in silence to see what he would do next. After a 
 pause a flushed face rose from behind the piano and cautiously 
 looked about. When its eyes caught sight of me I had a 
 vague impression of a whirling Dervish, and the next minute 
 Hawk had me by the throat. 
 
 "What d'you mean by leaving me all this time?" he 
 ground out, with a shake between each word that made 
 every tooth in my head jump. 
 
 If the Demon had not then come to the rescue and pinned 
 him by the calf, this tale would never have been written. 
 Fortunately, he was forced to let go, and by the time he was 
 ready again I was in possession of the poker, which daunted 
 him. So he sank wrathf uUy into a chair, wrapped the counter- 
 pane round himself more securely, and balefully glared at me 
 whilst he attacked the food on the table. 
 
 "You crass ass!" he mumbled, with a mouth full of ham, 
 "do you know you've been gone for hours? And do you 
 know I've had the dooce and all of a time here?" he went on, 
 savagely rending a cold chicken. 
 
 "It started," he grumbled, "five minutes after you went. 
 The landlady came and knocked at the door, so I pretended 
 to be out. Yes, you may laugh, but how'd you like to receive 
 cavalry in this rig-out? Well, when she got no answer (you 
 see, I was busy climbing under the bed), she came in, and 
 after her came a chap with a httle brown bag. The latter 
 puzzled me, until I grasped from their conversation he'd 
 come to tune the piano, and, what's more, it seemed that 
 
MY DOG AND I iii 
 
 the bally musical box was on the installment system, for 
 the fellow made a furious song about my clothes on it, and 
 the pair of 'em had the cheek to throw the lot on the floor. 
 The dust under that bed knocked railway carriages to pot; 
 and I had to lie in it for a solid hour whilst he strung the jigger 
 up to fighting pitch again. By the time he'd done I was fit 
 to bust, especially as that dashed dog of yours kept dodging 
 under the bed, and then pawed the man and whined as 
 though he'd discovered a crime of some kind. Bothered if I 
 know why you keep the brute," he said vindictively, and 
 dipped his fork into the Demon instead of the chicken by way 
 of emphasis. 
 
 "Well, when he'd gone (What are you choking over now? 
 Anything funny?) I crawled out, with the idea of locking the 
 door before anyone else came along to tune the rest of the 
 things here. No key, of course! There was nothing for it 
 but under the bed again; but before I retired there, out of 
 bravado I hung my things up on the piano once more. I 
 hadn't been there (not on the piano, you goat; under the bed, 
 I mean) another two seconds before I heard a knock, at the 
 front door this time. Mrs. Cod answered it, and after some 
 jaw in the passage, blowed if she didn't come into our room 
 again. 'These is the rooms,' she said, and in came an elderly 
 party, female, dressed in the kind of rig worn by a girl of 
 seventeen, and carrying a vanity bag. ' And 
 'ere's the bedroom,' went on the landlady. 
 'Well, fancy, the tooner's been and put them 
 wet clothes back,' with which she flung my 
 things on the floor again and went on. ' The 
 gents has only took the rooms for a week, so 
 you can 'ave 'em in five days.' 'Well,' says 
 Lady Godiva, 'I think they'll do; but before I 
 decide I should like my husband to see them. 
 He won't be more than half an hour, so if An elderly female. 
 you don't mind me waiting, he can decide 
 when he calls.' The landlady, bless her! didn't mind. 
 She said both the gents were out, and even if they weren't 
 
112 MY DOG AND I 
 
 she felt sure they'd be proud. So she left the countess 
 in the room and shut the door. 
 
 "Whew! She prowled round a bit, and looked at herself 
 in the mirrors; then she opened her bag and brought out a 
 powder-box and other paraphernalia, and started re-decorating. 
 She had just touched up her eyebrows when the Demon 
 grabbed her bag, and, as you no doubt may expect, skimmed 
 under the bed with it. She saw him go and gave chase. 
 'Naughty doggy,' she said, 'give it up! If my husband saw 
 what was in it, honeymooning though we are, he would 
 despise me. So give it up, there's a good dog ! ' You bet he 
 did. He hung on all the tighter, and he'd got just where I 
 couldn't reach him too, round my back somewhere. After 
 a bit the old girl got rattled, and began sweeping around 
 with her parasol. You'd have yelled too if she got you 
 in the eye like she did me. In fact, she gave me such a 
 prod, I rolled out into the open day with the agony. And 
 what do you think the dame did then? Scream? Not at all. 
 She wagged a saucy finger at me, and said, ' Bad boy! Fancy 
 hiding there! How romantic of you ! ' 
 
 "Just imagine my feelings, please. I w^ouldn't care if she'd 
 yelled, but flirt in a counterpane with a raddled old crow of 
 fifty! 'My dear madam,' I explained, 'I'm awfully sorry, 
 
 but you see ' Bless you, she wouldn't take explanations. 
 
 Made out I'd followed her and done it for a surprise. ' But 
 do get back,' she said, 'whilst hubby's here, and I'll get rid of 
 him as quickly as I can.' Ugh! Lord knows what would 
 have happened next if at that moment old cockalorem him- 
 self hadn't come dotting in. Red-faced, cotton-wool mus- 
 tache Johnny ! Jerusalem ! When he spotted me in this get- 
 up, he left fly. It was obvious his better half was a giddy 
 girl, for he raved about this being the fifth time he'd caught 
 her in a fortnight. Then he turned his attention to me. He 
 said he wouldn't put up with any more of it. (I didn't want 
 him to.) This, he remarked, was her blanked reason for 
 wanting to look for rooms herself, was it, so she could carry 
 on more of her demmed flirting tricks she'd blank well caught 
 
MY DOG AND I 113 
 
 him with, eh? Well, he'd see what his soHcitor said, and if 
 the legal Johnny stated he might kill me, he'd do so and then 
 get a divorce. I gave him a card, and said directly my 
 clothes were dry I'd fight him with anything from fists to 
 dynamite, and also defend any suit he brought against me. 
 I told him it w^ould only be necessary for the jury to see his 
 wife's face to acquit me, but that the judge might order a 
 commission in lunacy to consider my case, in that after having 
 known her I couldn't be quite right. I kept on at the beggar 
 till he went blue and speechless, and at last he dragged his 
 blessed wife off by the wrist. He must have told Mrs. Bilge 
 downstairs about it, for she came in soon after with her eyes 
 shut, and said we must go in the morning, as she didn't want 
 to lose her good name. So, take it all round, my time has 
 been fully occupied." 
 
 "Well," I soothed, "we can easily get other rooms; but 
 you were an ass to give him a card. Had it an address on 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes, but that doesn't matter," said Hawk complacently. 
 " I'm pretty wide, so he'll be serving a writ on the wrong chap 
 if he goes on with the business. Ha ha!" 
 
 "Ha ha! Good!" I echoed. "Won't the owner of the 
 card jump when old thingumy sets a lawyer on him." 
 
 "Yes, you will," was his casual reply as he prepared to 
 turn in. 
 
 "I will?" 
 
 "So I anticipate," came from the bedroom. "It was your 
 card." 
 
 Until the gray dawn I sat in that stuffy room in a broken 
 arm-chair and a daze, several dazes, and revolved Hawk's 
 latest iniquity in what remained of my mind. From the fact 
 that the husband wore a cotton-wool mustache and said 
 demme instead of bother, I argued Anglo-Indian liver and 
 the w^orst. Life seemed a whirl that night. The only thing 
 which stands out clearly is a picture of Moses in the Bul- 
 rushes (Moses pink with flyspots, bulrushes purple, Pharaoh's 
 
114 MY DOG AND I 
 
 daughter yellowy-green), which, framed in light maplewood 
 and dust, hung askew over the mantel. I remember how it 
 caught my eye every time I looked up, until I distinctly 
 noticed that Moses wore a gloatful sneer, and so in fury slung 
 a boot at the work of art, which put Moses clean out of play 
 and wrecked Pharaoh's daughter's elegant nose forever. I 
 recollect also that I trod on the broken glass when I retrieved 
 the boot. 
 
 The morning saw Hawk's clothes dry, and that worthy 
 himself in a great fume. It seemed the landlady's remarks 
 had rankled, and from what I overheard when Hawk settled 
 with her the bill rankled too. His heated voice sounded as 
 injured as if he bore all our expenses himself , whereas I believe, 
 beyond the fiver Uncle had given him and a little loose silver, 
 the bulk of our joint money (what was left of it) had been 
 provided by me. 
 
 He angrily banged the door behind us, and after he had 
 deposited the bag in the left luggage office at the station, he 
 declared his intention of having a bathe. " Do us both good," 
 he snapped. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, and I felt batheful too. We en- 
 gaged a double bathing cabin, wherein we were accompanied 
 by the Demon. Somehow I began to like the pup. Although 
 he had many faults, he had the virtue of steadfastly sticking 
 by us, and there was no doubt he had upset Hawk more than 
 once, a fact which softened me. 
 
 " Good dog, then," said Hawk, who stood on one leg in the 
 manner of those who have not yet entered the water, whilst 
 he flapped his arms around his airy bathing costume. '' We'll 
 leave him here to guard our clothes, so if anyone looks in 
 whilst we're out he can get a bit of tooth practice in." 
 
 The water was not too wavy that morning, and suited my 
 style of swimming excellently. I may say the secret of my 
 graceful swanlike progress in the water is that I always keep 
 one foot on the bottom. I find it steadies one, and gives a 
 security you can attain in no other way. Hawk, however, 
 w^as of the elect who do side-strokes, somersaults, and other 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 IIS 
 
 weird things, just like a shoal of porpoises, not to mention 
 that he looked like one too. 
 
 After we had splashed about for a few minutes, I looked 
 towards our cabin. The Demon had worked the door open, 
 and with a starfish in his mouth now stood at the edge of the 
 waves and looked pathetically out to sea. Hawk saw him too, 
 and made urgent signals to him to go back to the cabin and 
 remount guard. The Demon stood irresolute. He wanted 
 to oblige Hawk, but couldn't make his signals out, which is 
 not to be wondered at. It needed at least a troop of Boy 
 Scouts to unravel them. Nevertheless, after a moment's 
 indecision, the pup wagged his tail, turned back, and waddled 
 into the cabin again. 
 
 "Sensible little beggar," chuckled Hawk, "he knew what 
 I meant. Why, he's really Oh, Jerusalem!" 
 
 The latter expletive was occasioned by the reappearance 
 of the Demon, who had Hawk's 
 trousers in his mouth. He had 
 made up his mind that Hawk felt 
 cold out there in the water with 
 hardly anything on, and he 
 wasn't going to stand by and see 
 a friend of his master catch a 
 chill. So, despite Hawk's yells, 
 he entered the sea, and swam 
 gravely towards us, whilst 
 Hawk's garments trailed on the 
 surface on either side of him. 
 
 Hawk raved and stormed to 
 no purpose; but when the Demon 
 saw his agitated form splash murderously towards him, he 
 turned round and paddled energetically to land again. Hawk 
 followed, and the Demon, who now knew what to expect if 
 he was caught, dodged under a donkey, round a goat-chaise, 
 and vanished with the trousers up the beach before 
 their owner had done more than stub his toes on the 
 shingle. 
 
 He swam gravely towards us. 
 
ii6 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Weak with laughter — they were not my trousers — I joined 
 Hawk at the door of our cabin, and dropped helpless on a 
 seat. 
 
 "I've often read of chaps losing their bags when bathing, 
 either by the aid of dogs or tramps," I chuckled. ''Some- 
 times it is just after the things have gone that a keeper comes 
 along and catches the chap trespassing; at other times an 
 elderly female heaves in sight; and yet again they are pur- 
 loined by some w^ary Willie, who a few days after adds insult 
 to injury by asking the loser to buy them. I never saw any- 
 thing so funny in my life." 
 
 ''Didn't you?" asked Hawk grimly. "Then I'm sure 
 you'll laugh all the more when I tell you all our money was in 
 those trousers' pockets." 
 
 "What?" I shouted. 
 
 "Every blessed ha'penny, my humorous friend. You'll 
 have to go and buy me another pair." 
 
 It just then occurred to me I only possessed one-and-six 
 in the world. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Is a trouser tragedy. Hawk has a Bath chair, and I have a hard time. Our 
 dilemma at the station, and Hawk's flight from Cupid. The dog turns 
 up with the garments, hut not with our money. We set out to seek our 
 fortune, and Hawk finds a convict, and spoils a cinematograph picture. 
 We part, more in anger than sorrow. 
 
 The loss of Hawk's nether garments now began to take on 
 the appearance of a tragedy. Hawk began to "take on" too 
 when he found that my sole funds were under two shillings, 
 and the kind of trousers purchasable for that sum would not 
 be the latest cut. 
 
 ''I tell you what," I said triumphantly, ''if we haven't got 
 any money for the moment, we've got our watches and chains, 
 and no doubt a friendly uncle will do the needful by them if 
 you'll wait here whilst I dodge out." 
 
 ''You're quite right, but it's a case of locking the horse 
 after the stable has gone, for if you'll bring that colossal 
 intellect of yours to bear on the question, you'll remember 
 we put our valuables in the bag before we came on this 
 childish paddling business." 
 
 " Well, that's easily settled," I remarked in cheerful tones, 
 as I saved my own tokens of respectability from a sly and 
 predatory snatch, "that's easily settled; give me the cloak- 
 room ticket, and I'll jolly soon fetch the bag." 
 
 "The ticket is — or was — with our funds," said Hawk 
 gloomily. "Why the dooce didn't you keep some of the 
 money instead of making me hold the lot? Now we're in a 
 pretty hole. Your dog's gone off with my things, which 
 contained all that stood between us and starvation. The 
 only thing to be done is this: you must get a Bath chair for 
 me — hire it, we don't want a man — and drag me to the 
 station. Perhaps the clerk will recognize me and allow me to 
 
 "7 
 
ii8 MY DOG AND I 
 
 have the bag, whereas if you went your face would be enough 
 to make him suspicious that you were on the bounce." 
 
 He had so worked himself up, I trembled at what he might 
 do next. Collar my precious pair? Not if I knew it. So to 
 prevent any sudden action on his part I walked off on a chair 
 hunt. 
 
 It was fortunate that the boatman who the day before had 
 remarked to me, "Never mind, sir, you'll be all the better 
 for it," during a painful realization of what a choppy sea was 
 like, had taken a fancy to me. 
 
 He waddled into my life again just as a misanthropic Bath 
 chair-man had for the third time scornfully refused to part 
 with his chair without a deposit based on twice its value, or 
 alternatively the attendance of himself to see I didn't pocket 
 the thing. 
 
 My boatman listened with a judicial cock of his head, and 
 then took me aside and made the masonic sign of the British 
 Policeman — a crooked hand held in casual fashion behind 
 his back. I deposited a shilling therein, and the oracle 
 worked — in other words, the boatman made explanatory 
 noises in a husky whisper to the chair proprietor, the upshot 
 of which was I became bailee of the chair at the rate of two 
 shillings an hour. 
 
 Reader, have you ever attached yourself to a Bath chair? 
 If so you will sympathize with me. Ju-jitsu is nothing to the 
 fiendish tricks a chair can play when it's behind your back. 
 It has a way of smiting you athwart the backbone which 
 puts the Inquisition into the category of kindergarten games. 
 To get the full measure of its juggernaut genius, you must, 
 however, try it over cobblestones as I did. Some day I will 
 write a book about Bath chairs, and spend the profits on 
 founding a home for aged Bath chair-men. I feel for them. 
 It harrows me too much to advert at length to that trip 
 across the beach to the cabin, in which Hawk lay imprisoned 
 out of deference to Mrs. Grundy. I will only remark that the 
 chair had me down twice and frolicked over me, ran me up 
 to my knees in the sea, stuck fast in the sand and came out 
 
MY DOG AND I 119 
 
 with disconcerting plops. Also if ever I meet certain donkey 
 boys on a dark night, let them look to themselves, for nothing 
 but blood will wipe out their words. 
 
 Bathing cabins, as you doubtless know, are wobbly struc- 
 tures built of canvas stretched on wooden frameworks. A 
 little sliding door with a tendency to jib gives access to either 
 end, and little boys with hatpins have been known to amuse 
 themselves for hours by shrewdly probing the sides: every 
 yell a player produces counts one, and a scream two. 
 
 I had several narrow escapes from opening the wrong cabin 
 door, for I had forgotten the number, but at last located my 
 companion in No. 10, that exhibited a frantic hand which 
 beckoned through a hole in the canvas. 
 
 "Darn you I" skirled Hawk, whose voice sounded strangely 
 muffled by the canvas, ''have you been to make it? This shed 
 proprietor has been round to demand extra money as I've 
 stayed so long, and from the prevarications I've had to make, 
 he has come to the conclusion I'm potty. Bring the chair 
 round to the sea door, idiot, I don't want to be gaped at by 
 the whole world." 
 
 I dutifully did as he desired. There was a bang as the 
 cabin door crashed open, a glimpse of a striped pink shirt, 
 and Hawk was in the chair, breathing instructions and 
 maledictions in the same blare. 
 
 "Pull!" he gnashed, angered by a crowd of boys who, hav- 
 ing seen the shirt, grinfully enjoyed the situation. The chair 
 unfortunately, had its own views about moving. It refused 
 to budge, despite the most furious jerks and tugs on my part, 
 and then it dawned on me that the impetus it should have 
 used to move forward with, it was adapting to a downward 
 progress, for the beastly thing steadily sank into the sand, as 
 though avowedly seeking the center of the earth, whilst 
 Hawk's angry movements made it settle still deeper. 
 
 To say the least of it, my position was far from enviable. 
 I was expected to move a heavy Bath chair, which contained 
 a fat man dressed principally in a coat and waistcoat and 
 swear words, whilst it was so fixed in the sand that nothing 
 
I20 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 under a gang of navvies with a steam crane could have 
 shifted it. In fact, had it not been for a friendly soul assisted 
 by a rope and a capstan, Hawk and his chair would have 
 slowly sunk to those nether regions he in the fullness of time 
 was booked for, which possibly might have been an excellent 
 good thing. 
 
 In a dazed kind of way I at last realized that we were on 
 the road to the station, and also it appeared to me that Hawk 
 was silly to act like a boat-race cox. in his desire to urge me 
 on, for each time he lunged forward the chair bashed me in 
 the back, and when he flung backwards it pulled me over. 
 
 And when we did arrive at the cloakroom, his manner so 
 upset the clerk that he wouldn't think of giving up our bag 
 ■without the ticket. "The gentleman who left it was a gent," 
 he remarked significantly. 
 
 Hawk also indulged in a few significant remarks, which 
 ended in three porters and a ticket collector stepping into 
 the breach and helping me to remove him before the clerk 
 
 got his coat off. 
 
 Baffled once more, I slowly 
 towed him away, whilst he 
 whispered so many things I 
 wonder his throat was not 
 permanently scorched; and 
 then, without a word of 
 warning, he leaned forward 
 and thumped me between 
 the shoulders. 
 
 "Run for your life!" he 
 yelled. 
 
 With visions of Uncle Bos- 
 
 cobel, Harker and Gibble in 
 
 full pursuit, I obeyed. The chair rocked and swayed dizzily 
 
 down the station slope, and got up a momentum which 
 
 made me feel I should never be able to stop. 
 
 By adroit twists, however, I manceuvered the machine into 
 a quiet street, and brought it to a standstill without more 
 
 " Rtm!" he yelled. 
 
MY DOG AND I 121 
 
 damage than a broken spring and a lost tire. Whilst I 
 mopped my face I demanded an explanation. 
 
 "Was it Uncle?" I asked. 
 
 " Uncle be blowed ! " snorted Hawk. " It was that London 
 landlady of mine. You remember I told you my fatal beauty 
 had conquered her, don't you? There's been rice and old 
 slippers in her eye for months, and I just caught sight of her 
 as she came out of the station with a lot of day excursionists. 
 If she'd caught me, and in this kind of minus dress — ugh!" 
 
 It struck me we were about on the brink of things — 
 marooned in a seaside town with sixpence and one pair of 
 trousers between us, and a Bath chair which had run up 
 half a crown already and would cost at least ten shillings to 
 tinker up. I seriously discussed with myself the advisabihty 
 of deserting Hawk before he dragged me down to his level — 
 to be a kind of centaur creature, half man and, until he got 
 more dress, half Bath chair. 
 
 Just then a mild wuffle caused me to look about. A second 
 wuffle came from under the chair, and the wuffler I per- 
 ceived with joy was the Demon. The Demon, with Hawk's 
 pearls of price still festooned from his mouth, somewhat 
 bedraggled it is true, but undoubtedly trousers. How long 
 he had been underneath the chair I know not, but shrewdly 
 suspect ever since Hawk had got into it. That was the kind 
 of thing the Demon reveled in: when you didn't want him 
 he fawned upon you and made a nuisance of himself; when 
 you did want him, you couldn't find the brute, yet he was 
 there all the time. It may sound like a catch joke, ''Where 
 was the Demon when he wasn't?" but it is a truth. 
 
 The way in which Hawk overcame the difiiculties of putting 
 on the garments whilst still in the chair approached the mar- 
 velous, as did the way he emerged from the chair, which 
 made one think he must have been seated on a pin-cushion 
 or something equally soft. 
 
 Through force of circumstances, we had to leave that 
 elderly Bath chair derelict, and neither of us spoke until we 
 were a good mile away from it, and then Hawk, after a hasty 
 
122 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 scuffle through the pockets of his newly-recovered breeks, 
 announced the delightful fact that they were empty. 
 
 When I look back this does not seem remarkable, for not 
 only had the Demon dragged them into the sea and over 
 several square miles of beach, but he had trailed them under 
 the chair whilst it careered from the station. The marvel is 
 that there were any garments left at all; but at the moment 
 the discovery floored us, for even the bag ticket had vanished. 
 ''Well," said Hawk with a groan, "we must make the 
 best of it. We can't return to Middewick until the mess you 
 made of things has cooled down; we can't sell the Demon, for 
 he is priceless in the sense that there is no coin small enough 
 to express his market value; and we've got no money to go 
 back to London with, even if it were any good to do so. 
 You've done it this time, Dobbs. I felt something would 
 happen if I left things to you. Now, unless we can find some 
 
 buried treasure or Hst! look over there!" 
 
 I looked in the direction he pointed, and at first wondered 
 drearily what there was in an ordinary hedge to hst! at, un- 
 less he had some fat-headed scheme of making a corner in 
 bird's-nests. We had walked out of the town, and at the 
 moment were in a narrow lane bordered by 
 fields and coppices and one or two tramps. 
 The hedge which interested Hawk lay on 
 the left at right angles to the lane we 
 honored by using, and I made out when I 
 looked again the figure of a man who 
 skulked along it, whose dress proclaimed 
 him to be a guest of the State, a deviator 
 from the narrow path, and one who leaned 
 to arrow patterns on his raiment — ^in short, 
 a convict. A little ahead, with her back 
 towards him, stood a girl at the bend of the 
 hedge. She was dressed in white, and her 
 peroxide tresses glittered metallically in 
 the sun, except where the hair had grown after the dye, and 
 she played ''He loves me, he loves me not " with a twig. To- 
 
 In short, a convict. 
 
MY DOG AND I 123 
 
 wards her the sinister criminal crept. No wonder Hawk for- 
 got our parlous plight. His detective-soaked mind came to 
 the boil and foamed, and he gripped me by the arm until I 
 foamed and nearly boiled over into the bargain. 
 
 ''Jingo! Escaped! " he muttered. "And the beggar means 
 mischief too. The question is, shall we collar him before he 
 touches the girl, or wait till he does and then rescue her, 
 what? Wish I had my gun," he said in a regretful voice, 
 although I privately beHeve he was rather glad, for fear he 
 shot himself; ''but never mind, two of us and the dog will be 
 a match for him." 
 
 Much to my dismay, for I lean towards peace, he climbed 
 the hurdled bank which separated us from the field of action, 
 and dragged me after him, and the Demon, who scented a 
 riotous scene after his own heart, gleefully snooped over too. 
 
 "Tackle his legs," commanded Hawk, "whilst I scrag him; 
 but wait till he touches the girl." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Why? If we tackle him before she sees him, how the 
 deuce will she know we rescued her? We shouldn't get a 
 thank you." 
 
 It was a nervy moment. There'd be quite a little surprise 
 in store for that girl when we all arrived, especially if much 
 fur flew. 
 
 Convict 99 crept along until he reached the corner where 
 the girl stood, and as he did so Hawk, reluctantly backed up 
 by me, gave a roar and landed on top of the fellow just as 
 he touched the girl. 
 
 When the first shock of the impact was over, old Never- 
 too-late-to-mend laid himself out to show his paces. He was 
 a biggish man, in disgustingly good form too, and as Hawk 
 was short and I was not tall, he shook us off our feet each 
 time he reared. My position in the game — that of leg-keeper 
 — saved me from his fists, which, as Hawk's hands were both 
 engaged in the friendly occupation of strangling him, played 
 round my friend's ribs like drumsticks, with dull thuds such 
 as proceed from a carpet-beater's studio. From what I could 
 
124 MY DOG AND I 
 
 see of the girl, who came in view each time we swirled round, 
 she was dumb with amazement; and as for the Demon, I 
 never saw such a rotter for biting the wrong legs. 
 
 I was just about done up, and ready to apologize and be 
 friends, when a terrier-like swing of Hawk's little body 
 brought our quarry to earth. Strictly speaking, he fell on 
 me, and Hawk fell on both; but after the mazy whirl we had 
 trodden it was restful, and w^e all lay quiet and took the 
 count before the next round, which didn't come off, for as we 
 lay and gasped there dashed up two warders, a policeman, a 
 cowlike yokel, and a typical East Lynne villain fellow. I 
 naturally expected they would congratulate us, and let us 
 share the reward and so on, but they didn't. They dragged 
 Hawk off our prisoner; they pulled me from under him in no 
 gentle way; they kicked the Demon to leg; and then the 
 yokel Johnny tenderly assisted the convict to rise, whilst the 
 taller of the two warders addressed himself to Hawk. 
 
 ''What do you mean by spoiling the whole bally thing?" 
 he demanded. ''Who asked a pot-bellied Httle runt like you 
 to interfere?" 
 
 "Wanted the credit yourself, what?" panted Hawk 
 venomously. "That's like you blooming government 
 officials. A public-spirited Englishman risks his life in the 
 interests of the community, and you hirelings take the 
 kudos." 
 
 " Credit? Credit be bio wed ! " stormed the warder. " Credit 
 for what?" 
 
 "For collaring this blessed convict, of course!" roared 
 Hawk, who flattered himself on his bullying propensities. 
 
 "Convict be hanged! You've spoiled one of the finest 
 cinematograph pictures we've taken this week, you silly ass!" 
 
 "What!" stammered Hawk, as the light dawned on him, 
 "are you playing for pictures?" 
 
 "Certainly," broke in the convict, "and I'd have made a 
 picture of you in another minute if I could have got my 
 breath," he added vindictively. 
 
 Hawk was about to reply, when the manager and photog- 
 
MY DOG AND I 125 
 
 rapher trailed up, and did not look so distressed at having 
 the films spoiled as did the others. 
 
 "We got it all, and we can work the incident into a comic 
 film which'll knock Foolshead into fits. I haven't seen a 
 more realistic dust up in a long while. I suppose neither of 
 you gentlemen are disengaged? because if you are I can fix 
 you up. Money small but sure, easy work and plenty of 
 excitement," blandly smiled the manager. 
 
 He was a man who evidently did not let the grass grow 
 under his feet. He saw, came, and captured talent at once 
 if he could, like the theatrical managers in novels. 
 
 Now I jumped at his offer. It was opportune, for our sole 
 remaining sixpence would not carry us far; also I could com- 
 fortably grub along with these good people until such time 
 as I learned that all was quiet along the Potomac at Midde- 
 wick. So I closed with the manager's offer for self and 
 Demon, and naturally expected Hawk would join us. 
 
 But when Hawk lost his temper he lost it utterly, and to 
 find his convict was but a humble mummer, added to his 
 smuggler and diver fiascos, flicked him on the raw. He 
 fiercely declined, and commended the whole company to 
 a Hades he described in detail with such opulence that 
 Dante's Dream was, in comparison, an ideal place for school 
 treats. He included the Demon and myself in his peroration, 
 and declared his intention of never putting faith in man or dog 
 again, which struck me as quite outside the point at issue. I 
 did my best to dissuade him, but to no purpose. Go he would. 
 
 *' We part here, Dobbs ! " he blared. " You don't get me to 
 play the goat for kids to laugh at in penny cinematograph 
 palaces. I'll go my own way, and let you work out your own 
 salvation." 
 
 He snorted, picked up his hat, glared inside it for a minute, 
 stuck it on jauntily, and with a superb gesture of disdain 
 which took in everyone present, stamped off. At the time 
 I thought it useless to say any more, so let him go, and the 
 Demon and I watched him as long as he was in sight, then 
 turned and rejoined our fellow-players. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Adverts to my life as a picture-actor. '^Policeman Poddies^ Pluck." The 
 dog and the dummy. The manager^ s idea of a fall does not fall in with 
 mine, so he and I fall out. The dog and I set out to face the world, and 
 meet the celebrated Colonel Chugg. I join the ColoneVs menagerie, and 
 take up the mantle of an orang-outang. 
 
 I SPENT a most vigorous two months with that cinematograph 
 company. Any reader conversant with picture shows, who 
 has seen those films which depict some poor unfortunate 
 fellow being chevied, thrown into ponds, blown up in mines, 
 and bedaubed with every possible mixture from paint to 
 puddles, will know what I went through without much de- 
 scription on my part. 
 
 The method of torture was simple. After we had bathed 
 yesterday's wounds and fixed fresh bandages on the w^orst 
 
 injuries, the manager mar- 
 shalled us for the day's work. 
 What he saw in me to make 
 him give me what he called 
 comedy parts, and which I re- 
 frain from saying what I called, 
 I don't know, but if he decided 
 on some such subject as '' SpufT- 
 kins Takes Aunt Sally Shop- 
 J! iiLuS^S^'^^'E^^^B pi^g" Ws eye would single me 
 ^SmS^^^W m ^^™ ^^^ ^^ once. 
 ^^LS^ ^. /ll\ ^^H "You look the part without 
 
 make-up," he would chuckle. 
 "Bless my soul, we'll get some 
 laughs when the motor runs 
 into you." 
 Some other victim would dress as Aunt Sally, and with the 
 rest of the company made up as policemen, navvies, suf- 
 fragettes, and other deep-sea fowl, we were placed in a motor 
 and driven to the scene of agony. You know the regulation 
 
 126 
 
 A strenuous two months. 
 
MY DOG AND I 127 
 
 plot. The funny man (he feels humorous, you may be sure) 
 enters a shop and is thrown out by the shopman, then chased. 
 He turns a corner and falls over a pail of whitewash, and the 
 whitewasher joins the hunt, which runs through a gamut of 
 falls, smashes, accidents and bruises, and culminates in a 
 horse-pond, or bag of soot, or something equally uproarious. 
 I was generally the funny man. 
 
 Mind you, if a very heroic picture were w^anted, where the 
 leading character has a really nice time, and spoons with a 
 pretty maiden, then I was cast for the village idiot or a 
 charwoman with a failing for drink. 
 
 And on the other hand, if anyone was needed to take a 
 dangerous leap from a runaway carriage in full flight, it was, 
 ''Dobbs, you'll do this. When Bill" (Bill was the camera 
 man) "shouts 'Go,' you jump like blazes, and, by the way, 
 mind the mare don't kick you when you fall, she's got a 
 nasty trick of it." 
 
 But it was "Policeman Poddies' Pluck" that really fin- 
 ished me. The idea was that Poddies (I was Poddies), the 
 village boy in blue, had long been the butt of the villagers. 
 (You can fill in the usual by-play here — Poddies in the Pond, 
 Poddies on the Wasps' Nest, Poddies plopped into the Pigsty, 
 etc.). One day the new Squire reports a burglary at the 
 Manor House, and Poddies is sent to investigate. The 
 Squire's Httle daughter (played by the manager's wife) and 
 her mother (manager's daughter) are in the park as he ap- 
 proaches, being terrorized by a tramp. Poddies comes to 
 the rescue; tramp fires a pistol, and dashes off. Poddies, 
 wounded, follows, and the tramp flies in the direction of the 
 old quarry. Poddies catches him, and there is a furious 
 struggle, in which the policeman is flung over the brink, 
 thirty feet down. Yet, although he has sustained several 
 broken legs and arms, he draws his revolver, pots the tramp 
 who gloats down at him, and kills him. The dead tramp 
 pitches into the quarry too; the wounded policeman searches 
 the body, and reveals the fact that the tramp was the burglar. 
 
 You can see that Poddies has a giddy old time of it. Of 
 
128 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 course, in the usual way a dummy is substituted for an actor 
 when a long fall is desired. The camera is stopped whilst 
 this is done, and stopped again when the actor takes the 
 dummy's place at the bottom of the fall. But when we'd got 
 as far as the struggle, and the camera had stopped ready for 
 the substitution, we found the dummy had been chawed to 
 bits by the Demon, whom we had left in the car with it. 
 A mess of straw in a battered helmet and one sleeve would be 
 inconclusive as a faller, and the Demon had made such a 
 
 thorough job of it there was 
 
 no fixing up the dummy 
 
 again. 
 
 So the manager said to me 
 
 in a cooing voice — 
 
 "Well, dear boy, there's 
 
 only one thing to be done — 
 
 you must chance it." 
 "Chance what?" 
 "Why, the jump! It's 
 
 nothing much, after all. 
 
 What's a few feet to a 
 strong athletic chap like you, old man? Why, I'd do it 
 myself. I've jumped twice that distance when I was a boy, 
 and regarded it as nothing." 
 
 I pointed out that whilst a thirty-foot drop might have 
 been nothing to him as a boy, it was a precious lot to me as 
 a grown-up, and I begged to decline. 
 
 I didn't say it quite so politely as that, but my statement 
 was final and terse. This put him in a rage. He said he 
 wouldn't employ a milksop fool who was afraid of a pifihng 
 little fall like that; and then I made a further remark, and he 
 added a few more, and the upshot of the business was that 
 Policeman Poddies, so far as I was concerned, ceased to 
 exist; and I took my salary to date, threw off the husk of the 
 policeman, donned my ordinary attire, which was fortunately 
 in the car, and very far from silently stole away with the 
 Demon in attendance. 
 
 P. C. Poddies. 
 
MY DOG AND I 129 
 
 As my dog and I strolled through interminable country- 
 lanes I reviewed my position. I was quite in the dark about 
 Middewick affairs, and liked me not to return there until I 
 knew how the cat jumped, or rather when I was sure the cat 
 was dead and forgotten — the cat being a poetic allusion to 
 things generally. 
 
 It was necessary to live, and as most of my cinematograph 
 salary had gone in arnica and court plaster, my savings 
 were small, so a job of sorts was imperative. In the mean- 
 time there was an adventurousness, a freedom, about a 
 nomadic Hfe which appealed to me. 
 
 Soon there came in my purview a largish tent flanked by a 
 smaller one and a caravan, and I was aware of a subtle 
 aroma of sawdust and oranges, animals and hay, which re- 
 minded me of the time when a circus was an earthly paradise 
 and every clown an angel. But this tent hardly looked big 
 enough for a circus, so I turned for information to a poster on 
 a near-by fence, which, as it contained every color in the 
 rainbow and a few odd dozen besides, had already dazzled 
 me even when I only saw it from the tail of my eye. This 
 informed me that the tent contained 
 
 "Colonel (U. S. A.) Patrick K. Chugg's 
 
 Colossal Menageric Aggregation, which Staggers the 
 
 World." 
 
 And the program included a remark in red type about 
 ''Durbar, the Man-eater," which gave one a pleasant thrill, 
 and promised novelty, when another item of the program, 
 ''Demonstrations of Life in the Jungle," came on. 
 
 When I had read all there was to read and admired the 
 picture of the Colonel, which occupied pride of place on the 
 bill, and mentally remarked that if the Colonel looked like it 
 then he was worth the admission fee alone, I turned round 
 and nearly fell over a large person who was intently examin- 
 ing the Demon. He (the person, not the Demon) was a 
 veritable mountain of a man, with one of those cherubic 
 faces arranged on the square acre system. He wore a fierce 
 
I30 MY DOG AND I 
 
 black mustache with its ends waxed upwards to within a 
 hair's-breadth of his eyes, one of which rotated genially to 
 make up for the fixed appearance of the other. He wore a 
 low-crowned, wide-brimmed, top hat, a frock-coat with 
 ample skirts, black trousers, and a green waistcoat with 
 yellow spots on it. His fat fingers were bedizened with some 
 eight signet rings and a large diamond one, which must have 
 cost at least half a crown. 
 
 This iridescent party grinned cheerily at me, and with a 
 jerk of his thumb at the poster, said in a fat voice — 
 ''Don't ye belave it, son." 
 
 ''Beheve it?" I asked, wondering if he meant the whole 
 poster or only the mention of the man-eater. 
 
 *'Yep. That tintype av me ain't me, savvy? Y'see, I'd 
 kinder mislaid the picture block av me own face, so I put in 
 poor old Obadiah's f'r the time bein'." 
 
 He twirled one side of his mustache and blew comfortably. 
 This was evidently the Colonel. But Obadiah? 
 
 "Eddicated Rang-utang, Obadiah, he was," said the 
 Colonel, in answer to my unspoken question, "and wint and 
 died on me hands awhile ago. He put me up against it, did 
 poor old Obadiah, but I had his skin preserved and made do 
 wid a Httle feller who it fitted; and now 
 darned if he hasn't gone and run away wid the 
 lady who used to do stunts wid me wolves, 
 so you bet your life I'm worried, for I niver 
 like to disappoint th' public." He cocked a 
 ruminative eye at me. "Say, are ye walkin' 
 
 The lady of the track?" 
 
 the wolves. "Am I which?" 
 
 "Lookin' f'r a job? If youVe got no 
 desprit wurrk t' hold down, why not try Obadiah? Ye're 
 about hissize, an' there's nothin' much to do — set in a cage 
 an' rastle round an' ballyhoo now an' again. I'm an asy 
 bhoy to wurrk for too." 
 
 Why not? The Colonel seemed a kindly soul, and I might 
 as well do this as anything else. But I should feel lonely 
 
MY DOG AND I 131 
 
 caged by myself, so I asked if he would have any objection 
 to the dog sharing my captivity. 
 
 ^'Niver in the wide wurrld, son," chuckled the Colonel, as 
 he extended a square foot of fat hand and pump-handled my 
 arm. "Not a httle bit. Hav'm in the cage wid yez, it'll 
 draw th' people. 'Tis not often they git a chanst to see a 
 Rang-utang wid his pet pup around. Say, I'll give yez five 
 dollars a week, an' find yez in grub an' lodgin'. Are ye on?" 
 
 I intimated that I was on, at which the Colonel breezily 
 took me by the arm and led me towards his establishment, 
 and explained as he did so that his horses, which pulled the 
 wagons, were stabled in the adjoining village, ''for," said he, 
 "if I hobble 'em around the show it's a sure thing they either 
 git stolen, or some boy comes along an' pushes them over," 
 from which I concluded they were not in their first youth. 
 
 We entered the smaller of the two tents, which was taste- 
 fully furnished with three large wicker baskets, sundry 
 clothes in untidy heaps, a profusion of old newspapers, a 
 small cracked looking-glass, and a dubious black bottle. 
 
 "Here we are," smiled the Colonel, as he dived into the 
 largest of the baskets, "an' here's poor old Obadiah's skin," 
 dragging out a moth-eaten, much-stitched skin with many 
 bald patches, and a property monkey's head of repulsive 
 ugliness. 
 
 When I saw the skin I commended Obadiah for his shuffle 
 off this mortal coil. If I had to always look like that poor 
 creature must have done, nothing but death would sooth my 
 grief. 
 
 "Obadiah didn't run much to fur, he didn't," said the 
 Colonel in a regretful voice, "although I tried most evrythin' 
 on the market, and made him up a hair raiser mesilf. 
 Whether when I rubbed the stuff on I rubbed the fur off, I 
 dunno, but he got balder wid ivry bottle. Thry him on, son; 
 ye'll find him as comfortable as a motor coat." 
 
 All I can say is that if such was the case, motor coats are 
 by no means comfortable, for the skin fitted tight where it 
 shouldn't and bagged disgracefully at the knees. 
 
132 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Whilst I struggled into it the Colonel appHed himself to the 
 bottle, and when he had kindly assisted me to put on the 
 head, he led me into the menagerie portion of the show. 
 The Menagerie Aggregation, I noticed, hardly came up to 
 the enthusiastic remarks on the poster. 
 
 There were six cages standing round the tent, one of which 
 was empty; another contained an unhappy happy family, 
 chiefly made up of monkeys and a pig; another, two wolves 
 suspiciously like sheep-dogs — these were labelled ''Danger- 
 ous, Direct from Siberia"; yet another, a placid and be- 
 manged bear; a fifth was partitioned, from one side a small 
 Hindoo cow gazed pathetically up at a notice board hung 
 outside her cage, w^hich somewhat erroneously referred to her 
 as ''The Sacred Buffalo from Siam"; whilst in the other two 
 weird birds utterly belied the statement that they were the 
 "Only Living Extinct Birds of Paradise." 
 
 The interior of the sixth and last cage was hidden by a 
 large canvas curtain, on which was painted a very yellow 
 tiger on a purple ground, gracefully embellished with blood- 
 red letters to the effect that here lived Durbar, the far-famed 
 man-eater, who, it would seem, had quite an army to the 
 credit of his digestion. 
 
 A platform ran along the front of this cage and the empty 
 one which stood next to it, and up the wobbly steps leading 
 to it the Colonel guided me by the late Obadiah's arm, 
 opened the door of the empty cage, and bowed me in. The 
 Demon joined me, and when the Colonel had carefully shut 
 the door, he said — 
 
 "It won't be long before the show opens. I'll start her up 
 directly I've had a bite to eat, and in the meantime, so long 
 as you don't set the straw alight, ye may smoke. Here's a 
 ceegar. Feedin' time is after the performance, an' say, you 
 mustn't mind eatin' in pubHc." 
 
 As I was fairly hungry, I answered — 
 
 "Not at all. What did you feed Obadiah on, as a general 
 rule?" 
 
 "Well, he used to have fruit, but that wasn't in public, for 
 
MY DOG AND I 133 
 
 it disappointed the people who Hke to see animals atin' raw 
 meat; an' I belave that's what the poor thing died of. Sort 
 of upset his engines, him bein' a vegitarian guy." 
 
 ''You surely don't expect me to eat raw meat, do you, 
 Colonel?" I asked anxiously. 
 
 ''No, no, son; you need only pritind. No need to swaller 
 it at all," he said as he swaggered off. 
 
 I began to feel depressed, then bored. The Colonel had 
 thoughtlessly locked the door, or I might have been tempted 
 to stroll round to liven the monotony. 
 
 The Demon and the sheep-dog wolves kept up a nerve- 
 shattering bark; the bear and the monkeys rasped busily, 
 and grunted and squeaked as the spirit and little tormentors 
 moved them; the birds of paradise clucked dismally; but 
 from Durbar's cage came no sound save a steady snore. The 
 monarch of the jungle reposed. It was a miserable hole, that 
 menagerie. I began to wish myself out of it; for though the 
 Colonel had given me a cigar, I had no matches, and Oba- 
 diah's skin was sufficiently aromatic to make me wish for 
 some way of fumigating my immediate neighborhood. 
 
 When the Colonel returned I quite cheered up, for to hear 
 a human voice after so much animal noise was a delight. He 
 explained, as he swept things up a bit, that he would expect 
 me to do a little work besides Obadiahing, as his staff was 
 much reduced by the elopement of the former tenant of 
 Obadiah's skin and the lady of the wolves, and his two re- 
 maining helpers were in durance vile through mistaking the 
 landlord of the last public-house they called at for an escaped 
 elephant. 
 
 "But we'll manage," he said confidently, as he Ht a large 
 naphtha flare to lighten the gloom of the tent. "Whin ye see 
 the people come in, rip around a bit an' rattle the bars. If 
 ye know any German or Roosian, cuss a bit in it. Nixt to 
 EyetaHan it's most like Obadiah's talk as anythin'. An' now 
 to begin." 
 
 He then strode off, and I heard his voice, muffled by the 
 tent side, urgently implore an unseen crowd to step up and 
 
134 MY DOG AND I 
 
 pass in. He told them it was a duty to their future grand- 
 children to see the Menagerie Aggregation, for no such sight 
 would ever meet their eyes again; wherein, if he referred to 
 me, he spoke undiluted truth. 
 
 In another few minutes the audience began to straggle in 
 and gradually filled the tent; and when he had poked his 
 head round the entrance to satisfy himself there was no more 
 room, the Colonel strode in too, and forced his way to the 
 platform, at which I distrustfully vented my first howl. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Refers to Colonel Chugg's Aggregation. Durbar, the man-eater, and demon- 
 strations of life in the jungle. The dog re-discovers Hawk, and escapes 
 with a bear. Hawk's news, and the robbery in the dressing-tent. 
 
 The Colonel, having achieved the platform, possessed him- 
 self of a long wand and turned to the crowd, whom he beamed 
 on as cheerfully as does a solicitor on a rich client, or a suf- 
 fragette on the brick which hits the right minister. 
 
 "Ladies an' Gints," he commenced, with rich unction and 
 a comprehensive wave of the wand, ''with your kind per- 
 mission I'll have plisure in inthrojucin' to your notice me 
 wurrlld-famed Menagerie Aggregation av savig dinizins av 
 th' forest, th' jungle, an' the ripsnortin' boundin' pampas. 
 The colliction cost me thousands av dollars to bring together, 
 an' the rason there's not many lift is thot the Zooligicil 
 Sassiety av the United States racently insisted on buyin' 
 some av the lesser vallible wans, lavin' me howiver, the 
 crame av the lot to show yez." 
 
 He strode to the end of the platform and embraced the 
 ripsnorters in the opposite cages with a sweep of the wand. 
 
 ''Over beyant, in the fur corner, ye'll obsarve the Sacred 
 Buffalo from Siam which the hathen Chinese ses their prayers 
 to; an' nixt to um is the only two remainin' extinct birds av 
 paradise, hatched in this menagerie an' foster-mothered by 
 a chimpanzee. Passin' to the lift, ye'll notice the bar, which 
 I caught in the Rockies av Arizona wid me frind an' feller- 
 colonel Buffalo Bill, th' famous Boy Scout. Thot bar, ladies 
 and gints, is legitimately assoomed to be th' last ov the 
 cilibrated three bars av histhry, the other two havin' been 
 shot by Prisidint Roosevilt. Foreninst the bar, ye'll observe 
 two spicimins av Siberian wolves captured by me whin 
 suppressin' Nihilism on behalf av me frind the Tsar. They 
 uset ter do stunts," he added bitterly, "but th' princess as 
 
 135 
 
136 MY DOG AND I 
 
 wrastled wid um has skiddoed racent wid a dago. But no 
 matther. The monks an' pig an' goat in the nixt cage were 
 the original animals from which Profissor Darwin made his 
 observations on the Theory av wan man wan vote; an' now, 
 havin' exhausted the smaller reptiles, I'll be afther showin' 
 yez the jools av me colliction. This " 
 
 He turned and jabbed me in the ribs with most unnecessary 
 force, which made me roar to such an extent that if the au- 
 dience had gone home then they would have had twice their 
 money's worth. 
 
 — ''This is Obadiah, ladies and gints. Obadiah, as ye 
 plainly see, is an anthropoid ape, his father bein' a gorilla, 
 an' his mother a chimp, hence the Japanese name Rang- 
 utan. He was caught as a baby through the agency av wire- 
 less telegraphy, havin' got mixed up wid a message sint 
 across th' jungle to say that the Sultan av Turkey was de- 
 tained at the office, an' wouldn't be home till late, an' he is 
 the livin' image av th' original prehistoric early Britons. He 
 ates upwards av a ton av hay a day, an' it costs fifty pounds 
 to give um a bath — no, I'm wrong, I was thinking av a ele- 
 phant I sold lately. But no matther. The pup ye see wid 
 um was given to Obadiah by a leading Mormon on account 
 of Oby's likeness to the gintleman's seventh ma-in-law, an' 
 it is a fine specimin av a Arctic fox-terrier. Before goin' any 
 further, is there any lady 'd Hke to kiss Oby? No?" 
 
 Here he walked along to the tiger's cage and rolled up the 
 canvas blind. 
 
 Now my cage adjoined the man-eater's, so try how I might 
 I couldn't see into its interior. I squeezed against the bars 
 of my prison in a way that greatly damaged Obadiah's skin, 
 but to no use. I could see nothing of the tiger, who directly 
 his curtain was moved made most untigerly noises. The 
 Colonel, with an impartiality which did him credit, prodded 
 him as hard as he did me, and after the effect had died down 
 remarked impressively — 
 
 "Before yez, ladies an' gints, ye see Durbar, the furiosest 
 tiger in captivity, so called to commimorate the fact that he 
 
MY DOG AND I 157 
 
 ate three troopers an' two civilians on the occasion of the last 
 royal visit to India. He also killed a missionary an' ten 
 natives, but he didn't eat them. The rajah who owned him 
 found the rilatives av the deceased fancied he was in the in- 
 surance line, an' paid out in full for accidents, so to privint 
 bein' ruined he gave the brute to me to show to the public as a 
 warnin' against strong drink. In captivity his food has bin 
 principally farinacious, as I found human bein's come ix- 
 pinsive." 
 
 A voice from the crowd murmured, and the Colonel 
 frowned. 
 
 "If any wan don't belave me wurrd, shall I let um out f'r 
 yez to see if he's a man-ater or not?" 
 
 There were no takers. 
 
 "Whilst ye drink in the splindid sight av these two noble 
 craturs, th' orchestra will give a siHction," announced the 
 Colonel, as he fished out a hand organ from under a tarpaulin 
 and gave it a preliminary grind that made Durbar and my- 
 self growl in good earnest. 
 
 It is not impossible that the orchestra was at one time all 
 right, and I don't want to appear prejudiced, but it had got 
 the jimb-jambs in its old age, and its three tunes had got 
 hopelessly mixed. 
 
 "Good-bye for Ever," "Killarney" and "Pop Goes the 
 Weasel," well stirred together give a curious effect, something 
 like the noise a little boy makes after a good meal of green 
 apples. 
 
 The Colonel paused after his labors as conductor to see if 
 an encore was desired, and when he found it was not, he again 
 addressed the meeting. 
 
 "Owin to the Princess havin' vamoosed," he said regret- 
 fully, "the Dimonstrations av Life in the Jungle can't be 
 showed ye so far as the wolves is consarned, but disappoint 
 the public I nivir will. Ye've paid ye're money to see jungle 
 dimonstrations, an' it's up to me to provide um. I therefore 
 propose to turn Obadiah into Durbar's cage to show yez how, 
 in their natral state, these ancient giants av th' wind-swept 
 
138 MY DOG AND I 
 
 prairies av th' African swamps conduct themsilves in the 
 prisince av their inimies." 
 
 Was the man mad? He looked cool enough, diabolically 
 cool and comfortable. Perhaps it was a joke? Anyway, man- 
 eater or not, no tiger should be introduced to me. Probably 
 the real Obadiah's demise was due to this very thing, and yet 
 sooner than disappoint his beastly audience the infernal Col- 
 onel would sacrifice me, and had me in mind all along. 
 
 I quite understood the elopement of the last tenant of the 
 skin. Even a princess w^ho did stunts in a wolf's den was 
 better company than a tiger. 
 
 The Colonel had his back turned to me whilst he wrung 
 an overture to the combat from that Wagnerian organ, so I 
 approached the bars and under cover of a howl and " Good- 
 bye for Ever" fiercely asked what he meant by it. 
 
 ''Don't ye worry, me son," he said without turning his 
 head, and ground on turgidly. "The haste's got no tathe 
 to spake av, an' no pluck. Directly ye get in hit him a kick — 
 he'll be as afraid of yez as ye are av him." 
 
 "I refuse to go in," I stormed. ''I'll give this Obadiah 
 game away first." 
 
 "The lasht little feller," sang the Colonel to the tune of 
 "Killarney," "thot wint an' gave th' Obadiah game away 
 got chawed up by the crowed, an' died a inglorious, many- 
 pieced death." 
 
 I thought rapidly. I had a recollection of reading how a 
 crowd treated a show adjunct when they found it was false 
 to its colors, and I felt that after all the tiger alternative 
 would be preferable. 
 
 Anyhow, I had the Demon, who would be useful to draw 
 his fire. 
 
 " Ye'll find a broth av a stick up in the corner," chanted the 
 Colonel. "It's what I used to soothe Obadiah wid when he 
 got obstropolous, an' it '11 kape the tiger busy if yez use it 
 properly." 
 
 The overture came to an end, and though he still retained 
 the organ to play an appropriate accompaniment to my 
 
MY DOG AND I 139 
 
 death scene or the tiger's, the worthy Chugg freed his hands 
 and grasped a crank which stuck out between the cages. He 
 energetically twiddled this round, and to my horror the par- 
 tition which divided my lair from Durbar's moved upwards, 
 creakily but surely, disclosing the half dark interior, at the 
 end of which I discerned a dim yellow shape. 
 
 After the partition had risen, the Colonel gave an intro- 
 ductory wave of his fin-like hand, and "Durbar from India — 
 Obadiah from Borneo," said he, for all the world like a boxing 
 M. C. introducing two pugilists — 
 Tricky Tibbs from Tilbury and 'Appy 
 Alf from 'Anley. He then turned his 
 attention to screwing those mangled 
 tunes over again to hide any groans I 
 might make as I was man-eaten. 
 
 For a tiger Durbar was a feeble 
 specimen, and about as sick looking 
 
 as a Boulogne tripper. He sat crouched in the corner of his 
 cage as one who desired above all to attract no attention, a 
 state of affairs that considerably emboldened me. 
 
 No half measures were possible. If I didn't terrorize him 
 first he'd think I was just a new kind of dish, and tuck his 
 serviette into his collar and wire in before I'd time to 
 breath one final malediction on the complacent Chugg. So 
 I began to thrash about, prance, howl and gibber like a mad 
 medicine man. As I snarled and tore about I noticed that the 
 Demon commenced to snuffle round my antagonist in a 
 strangely friendly way, and more remarkable still, the tiger 
 eyed the dog with an expression akin to bewilderment. After a 
 survey of the Demon, he cast a baleful glare at me, and shuffled 
 over to where I cavorted. He came, too, in such a cold-blooded 
 way that my prancefulness deserted me, and I shrank against 
 the bars of the cage in clammy despair. I realized that when 
 hunters wrote of the mesmeric quality of a tiger's eye they 
 knew what they were talking about. It was more than mes- 
 meric — it was the quintessence of mesmerism, hypnotism and 
 electrobiology all rolled into one, and concentrated to the nth 
 
I40 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 power. My heart came into my throat, and left a vacuum 
 behind it which felt like that caused by one's first cigar. Out- 
 side the crowd waited expectantly, and 
 the Colonel droned away at '' Good-bye 
 for Ever" in a horribly suggestive way, 
 whilst he actually shook with suppressed 
 laughter at some fiendish secret joke. 
 
 Nearer came that brute of a tiger, and 
 stopped a bare yard away. My arms, pro- 
 tected by Obadiah's hide, though they 
 were, hung nerveless beside me, and pa- 
 thetic thoughts of dear Uncle Boscobel 
 and my old home crashed through my 
 mind like coals down a cellar shoot. 
 Durbar slowly reared on his hind legs, 
 gave another glance at the Demon, who danced round him as 
 though tigers were every-day events in his life, and then 
 fetched me a bang on the ear with his paw which toppled 
 me over and broke a tooth. Not satisfied with this extraor- 
 dinary attack, he leapt on my agonized form and lowered 
 his hideous jaws to my ear. 
 
 Things swam. The audience, the cage, the Colonel and 
 the tiger mixed themselves up and danced before me like 
 motes in a sunbeam. I shut my eyes and waited for the 
 crush of those cruel jaws. I was so far gone, that when his 
 wliiskers tickled my ear I didn't ever shudder. 
 
 And then, when his wicked jaws touched my face, a voice 
 came out of them and — 
 
 "So it's you!" snarled the tiger. 
 
 My state of mind was such, however, that even then I did 
 not realize that tigers do not usually speak. 
 
 ''Y — Yes, it's me!" I groaned. "You're mistaken in 
 imagining I am a monkey. I'm a human sacrifice to Irish- 
 American pushfulness. If " 
 
 "You," went on the tiger, " 
 
 It was Hawk! 
 
 Hawk masquerading as a 
 
 and your beastly dog, what? " 
 Bengal man-eater. If the 
 
MY DOG AND I 141 
 
 Colonel foisted one man on the public as an educated ape, 
 it was of course quite on the cards he should fake another up 
 as a tiger; but to think I had been reduced to blank terror by 
 Hawk in whatever guise, vulgarly speaking made me lose 
 my wool. 
 
 Bravery returned like a flash, and the crowd, who were 
 not in the secret, cheered rapturously as I upper-cut the 
 fearsome Durbar and bashed him across the cage. The 
 second round was mine by virtue of Obadiah's stick, and the 
 third and fourth were about equal. How long the Demon- 
 stration of Life in the Jungle would have lasted is indefinite, 
 for just as I had Durbar's head in chancery, and had smitten 
 him well and truly in the left eye, the Demon created a diver- 
 sion. With a peaceful desire to 
 avoid the strenuous life in our 
 cage, that sensible dog had 
 squashed through the bars and 
 taken a stroll round the menag- 
 erie, and finally insinuated him- 
 self into the bear's den. 
 
 The bear mistook him for one 
 of his long-lost clan, and took the 
 dog to his affectionate chest in one 
 comprehensive hug which sent 
 the breath out of the poor brute with a noise like an engine 
 whistle. 
 
 The audience, fickle as all audiences, promptly turned its 
 back on the jungle demonstration, and surged round the 
 bear's cage, whilst the excited Chugg endeavored to reach 
 the animal with the wrenched-off handle of the organ. 
 This he failed to do, so with a creditable bravery he opened 
 the cage door and smote Bruin upon the nose with such effect 
 that in order to see who was letting off fireworks the bear 
 dropped the Demon. 
 
 That canine animal gave one gasp, sprang out of the cage, 
 and vanished into the crowd. The bear, who still yearned 
 for company, and wasn't going to lose his dear little play- 
 
142 MY DOG AND I 
 
 mate so quickly if he could help it, scattood between the 
 Colonel's legs, clumsily flopped to the ground, gathered him- 
 self together, and lit out after the Demon. 
 
 The crowd gave a united yell and made way for him. 
 Hawk and I, who had stopped our fight to watch what was 
 toward, saw the Colonel rise from the floor of the cage and 
 puff, rather than address, the audience in the following 
 words — 
 
 "Ladies and gints, this closes the performance, thankin' 
 you one and all for your kind patronage. If I cotch the bar 
 
 in time to git back, 
 there'll be an avenin' 
 show, whin the animals 
 will be fed. If not, the 
 doors will be open to- 
 morrow, at the usual 
 time. Children half- 
 price" — this was as he 
 descended from the cage — "an' schools at redooced fees," 
 with which valediction he galloped out of the entrance in 
 search of his pet, followed by the now feverish audience in 
 one solid mass, they no doubt feeling braver thus than if 
 they met the bear suddenly in single dalliance. 
 
 As the last one left the tent, Hawk removed his tiger head 
 and looked at me indignantly. It was part of his character 
 to always labor under some grievance, so I disregarded the 
 look. 
 
 "Well, your bally dog's gone at last," he said. "Where 
 have you been, what? I've been wanting to see you all this 
 week, and so, of course, you've pig-headedly kept out of the 
 way." 
 
 "I've been with those picture people. How did I know 
 where you were, if it comes to that? And how did you get 
 mixed up with Chugg? " 
 
 " Same way as you, I suppose. Only joined him yesterday. 
 I've been knocking round with a mesmerist chap. Had a 
 row with him because I got sick of having pins stuck in me to 
 
MY DOG AND I 143 
 
 show I was in a trance, so after I'd refused to come round 
 when he'd 'fluenced me into a mad dog until I'd bitten every 
 darned person in the audience, and him too, I left. Met the 
 Colonel next day, and took this job in the hopes that, as we 
 moved from town to town, I should run into you. I suppose 
 you know your Uncle's dead?" 
 
 ''Uncle Boscobel dead?" I shouted. 
 
 ''Yes. Oh, it was nothing to do with us, so don't get 
 alarmed. He must have got over your little joke, for he 
 went to a place where there's no demand for Pectoral Pellets 
 through laying a foundation-stone for some new Turkish 
 baths, and through some slight error the foundation-stone 
 lay on him. Sic transit, what?" 
 
 "How did you learn this?" 
 
 "Never mind how. They've been advertising for you. 
 Come into the dressing- tent and I'll show you the advertise- 
 ment." 
 
 I dashed to the cage door in my eagerness to get out, only 
 to find it locked. Hawk, however, pulled up a trap-door in 
 the floor and scrambled through, and I followed. We 
 squirmed out amongst the wheels, and found our way to the 
 tent in which I first donned Obadiah's skin. 
 
 The tent's appearance was very different to when I last 
 was there. Every garment had flown. The baskets were 
 heaped in the center empty, and the black bottle stood 
 derisively on top of them. A large rent in the side of the 
 canvas gave a distant view of a man struggling with a horse, 
 and also showed how the disturber of the place had entered. 
 
 Hawk was digging amongst a heap of papers in the corner, 
 to which he had rushed immediately we came in, and the full 
 force of the empty tent's aspect had not struck him. He 
 rose at last with a copy of The Times in his paw, and as I 
 grabbed it from him he gave vent to a dismal whistle. 
 
 "Every blessed rag of clothing has been stolen!" he howled 
 in frantic tones. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Shows how I was advertised for. The Colonel returns from a hear hunt with 
 the Equine Marvel. He refuses to let me leave the show. The evening 
 performance and supper. The Colonel's cookery. Hawk's schetne for 
 flight, and how the Equine Marvel came in handy. We start. 
 
 The advertisement ran to this effect: — 
 
 "Re Arthur Bucephalus Boscobel, deceased, of Pectoral 
 Villa, Middewick, in the County of Umphshire, Patent 
 Medicine Proprietor. 
 
 "If Arthur Dobbs, nephew of the above, who was last 
 heard of in Middewick, will communicate with the under- 
 signed before September the 5th next, he will hear of 
 something to his advantage. Any person who can give 
 information as to the said Arthur Dobbs' whereabouts 
 will be suitably rewarded. 
 
 '^Upottery, Son and Upottery, Solicitors and Com- 
 missioners for Oaths, Henrietta Street, London, W. C." 
 
 Poor old Uncle! And we had parted in anger. Well, it 
 was good to think his departure for a better land had not 
 been hastened by us. Pity we hadn't been reconciled before 
 the stone fell on him, but it was not to be. It was unnecessary 
 to ask how Hawk had learned of his death. No doubt 
 he had been in communication with the lawyers on the reward 
 question. 
 
 *' Something to my advantage. Umph! Phew! And it's 
 September the 4th now!" I exclaimed aloud. 
 
 "No clothes, no nothing! Only a bally tiger's skin and a 
 fool dressed up as an ape!" wailed Hawk. 
 
 "I must go at once," I decided, as I got up with unwonted 
 energy. 
 
 Hawk still bemoaned the loss of his paltry wardrobe in- 
 stead of congratulating me. From the way he spoke, anyone 
 would think I'd taken his blessed rags. What were hundreds 
 
 144 
 
MY DOG AND I 145 
 
 of Hawks' and Chiiggs' losses to the fact, the printed and 
 indubitable fact, backed by the whole weight of The Times, 
 that the said Arthur Dobbs would hear of something to his 
 advantage? The sale of Uncle's pellets had run into thou- 
 sands of pounds annually, and as I knew what they were 
 made of, I estimated that most had been sheer profit. 
 
 "Shut up!" I snapped at Hawk. "Have you got a time- 
 table? Where's the nearest station? Stop that row and help, 
 you selfish brute! I must go to town at once." 
 
 "What, in that rig-up?" sneered Hawk. "Haven't I been 
 telling you every dashed rag in the place has gone, vanished, 
 popped off, what?" 
 
 "Not my things as well?" I gasped, as I suddenly realized 
 that what I then wore belonged to the executors of the late 
 Obadiah. 
 
 "Of course; but don't let that stop you. You light out for 
 the lawyers as you are. They'll double the whatever it is 
 when they see you, for you look a jolly sight better with a 
 mask on than off." 
 
 I looked blank, and as I did not answer he mounted a 
 grievance and started on another track. 
 
 "Just my luck! Do I hear of anything to my advantage? 
 Certainly not. Here have I brought you triumphantly 
 through your troubles to where a legacy awaits you, and 
 what do you say, 'Hawk, old boy, we share equally'? No. 
 You get up and ramp and demand time-tables and stations 
 as though I carried 'em about with me. Piggish! That's the 
 only word for it, fairly hoggish." 
 
 "If you can see a way out of it I'll deal fairly by you," I 
 said; "but it looks to me that I shall not be able to get any- 
 where, let alone London, in my present state, if all my 
 clothes and money are gone." 
 
 "And mine and the Colonel's," added Hawk. "He kept 
 all his takings in his hamper, and he'll be as broke as we are. 
 We'd better see what he thinks about it. He'll be back soon." 
 
 As he spoke we heard a tremendous plunge in the me- 
 nagerie tent, and reached it in time to see the Colonel, in a 
 
146 MY DOG AND I 
 
 very heated and damaged condition, frantically tugging at 
 the halter of an old, wall-eyed, piebald horse, who tugged 
 whole-heartedly in the opposite direction, and would have 
 dragged the Colonel out of the tent again had he not with 
 great strategy suddenly let go the rope. This action resulted 
 in two things — the piebald horse with a surprised look on his 
 face fell backwards, and the Good Chugg had him down in 
 true cowboy style before he could recover his equilibrium, 
 and sat on his head. Then he saw us and waved a cheery 
 hand. 
 
 ''Say, bhoys, that bar surely had me hands down. Niver 
 the smell av um did I see, so I'm afraid he's gone for keeps. 
 But disappoint the public I'll not, so I've dragged wan av the 
 van horses back to take the place av him. He'll do f'r the 
 cilibrated talkin' Equine Marvel, for I uset to be by way av 
 a ventriloquist, so thot's all right. Any thin' doin'? " he asked. 
 "The dressing- tent's been robbed!" blurted Hawk. 
 ''Someone must have broken in whilst the show was on, and 
 they've cleared it — our clothes, every mortal thing." 
 
 "What? Not the baskits too?" shouted the Colonel, who 
 was so taken off his guard he left his seat on the horse's head, 
 and had it not been for Hawk's timely 
 grab the Equine Marvel would have fol- 
 lowed the bear. 
 
 The Colonel flung me aside and dashed 
 out into the smaller tent, uttered a wild 
 howl, and flew back muttering, "The 
 caravan ! The caravan ! ' ' towards which 
 he ran. Another howl advised us that 
 the local Raffles had seen to details. 
 11-1 Hill ^ \ 1 ^^ ^ minute or so, during which time 
 IHw'.^K' Vi\ J we anchored the horse to the center pole 
 of the tent, he returned and sat down 
 limply. 
 "Howly saints!" he whispered. 
 "Ivery lasht thing's went — the takins, me clothes, an' me 
 incubator." 
 
MY DOG AND I 14. 
 
 "Incubator?" I asked. 
 
 "Me incubator wot was goin' to make me fortun'. 'Twas 
 this way. I'd reckoned a incubator '11 hatch eggs into chicks 
 and warm chicks into roosters. Now ye know the throuWe 
 av rearm' pups. 'Tis a long time it takes. So I invinted 
 
 toZtZr T '° "^""^ ,''" °"- ^" y' '^^d to do was 
 to put the day-old pups m an' light the lamp. Thev came 
 on a month a week accordin' to my calculations, an' I 'Z 
 hopm to ixpirimmt on your pup too. Thot's why I took ve 
 on prmcipally, son. An' now the machine's gone; the pup^s 
 
 Eft an'^ h-M? f'!iTl °,'^''" ''''"«• N^""^"' "^"t the show 
 lelt an a bill for fodder's long as your arm " 
 
 It was bad for the Colonel, but it was worse for me. I had 
 hoped to obtain from him the means to pay a flying visit to 
 town and now un ess he consented to lend me his own clothes 
 and I could walk it that was impossible. 
 
 I argued that if the advertisement stipulated a certain date 
 by which I was to appear, there must be some clause in 
 Uncles will which, faihng my appearance, left the legacy to 
 some blessed society. Therefore, at all costs, go I must I 
 was sorry for the Colonel, but I had my own griefs 
 
 Look here. Colonel Chugg," I said, as I thrust The Times 
 before h^^ eyes 'see this advert.? Well, I'm the man they 
 want. I absolutely must go to London at once. I don't trust 
 JouC' i"„'!ff" "^^ '^■^' ^"^ ^'"^°"gh I'm sorry if it puts 
 Chugg gazed at The Times and dropped a dingy tear on it 
 Gone the wan an' only Canine Incubator, th' invintion 
 av the cilibrated Colonel P. K. Chugg, U. S. A. An' it's 
 went. Ocnone! ' 
 
 , " So you said before," I remarked testily. I was a bit of an 
 mventor myself, as you know, and with professional pride 
 scorned any invention not turned out by myself. "So you 
 said before. I repeat, I must go to London; and as I've lost 
 all my money and clothes through fooling the pubhc on your 
 account, I insist on you providing me with the necessary 
 means, see? ■' 
 
148 MY DOG AND I 
 
 ''Go to London?" rasped the Colonel, who suddenly awoke 
 from his sorrow and fixed me with his revolving eye. " Go to 
 London? An' disappoint the public? Not on your life. Be- 
 sides, what'll ye go in? Y'can't go in Obadiah's skin, an' 
 niver a nickel have I got. An', begob, the show's busted 
 enough widout me blamed eddicated Rangitang quittin! 
 No, play fair, son. It can't be did, an' there's an' end av it. 
 I've three days in this place yit, an' if ye put up a fight like 
 ye did to-day" (he chuckled through his tears) "it'll draw 
 the hull country. I couldn't spare yez if 'twas ever so." 
 
 To say I was angry would be a feeble statement. I boiled, 
 fumed, inwardly exploded as I shouted back — 
 
 "Ah, it becomes you to talk of fair play! You engaged me 
 under false pretenses. You never let on you intended to 
 turn me into a tiger's cage, my friend, as you did. Suppose 
 he'd been a real one?" 
 
 "But he wasn't. I only did it in the intrists av th' pubhc. 
 Y'see, the Princess lift me stranded f'r an athraction, an' 
 what was I to do at all? The raison I niver introjuced ye to 
 the little Durbar feller was so's to make the fight more 
 spontanioss-Hke. Now, be a good boy an' git to your cage. 
 The crowd's beginnin' alriddy." 
 
 "I'll see you " I commenced in no gentle tones, but 
 
 stopped as I felt Hawk tweek my arm. 
 
 "Do as he says. You'll do no good by refusing. Leave it 
 to me. I've a scheme," he whispered darkly, and induced 
 me to return to the cage. 
 
 The Colonel adjusted the partition, lighted some ten pun- 
 gent naphtha lamps, and w^nt outside. None of his helpers 
 had returned, so the good Chugg had to run the show off his 
 own bat. 
 
 In spite of his size and humbug, he was a glutton for work. 
 To all intents he was about ten different men, not to count 
 the orchestra. He harangued the crowd, he took the money, 
 lectured on the attractions, and assisted by an aged broom, 
 prepared the tent previous to the show. And if his men 
 didn't come back by the time he struck his colors, he'd have 
 
MY DOG AND I 149 
 
 to pull the tent down himself, for I didn't feel Hke helping, 
 and Hawk was too jolly lazy. 
 
 Savage though I was, I felt a Httle sorry for him. The loss 
 of his money was not lessened by his reluctance to set the 
 police on the matter, as the inquiries those gentlemen might 
 make would involve explanations as to the bona fides of his 
 collection. It occurred to me that the wolf lady and her 
 consort might have had a hand in the business, and returned 
 to the glimpses of the moon with the laudable idea of collaring 
 a dowry, but as the Colonel was not about when it occurred 
 to me I let the idea slip. 
 
 For the second time I watched the people come in, in even 
 greater numbers than before, for they wedged so tightly there 
 was no room for them to even blow their dainty noses. The 
 bear episode had no doubt spread round the neighborhood, 
 and the local nobility and gentry had turned up in full force 
 to see if the prodigal had returned, and looked pretty blank 
 when they found he hadn't. 
 
 The most fastidious visitor had no reason to complain of 
 a lack of roars and howls that evening. It was some relief 
 to me to give vent to my sorrows, even if the only way I 
 could do so was by yelling, and from the awful racket which 
 proceeded from the man-eater's den I concluded Hawk was 
 not in the best of tempers. 
 
 Again did the Colonel mount the rostrum and enlarge on 
 the sublimities of his unrivaled menagerie. He reassured 
 the audience about the bear, teUing them that he had just 
 received a telegram that the ursine wanderer had been cap- 
 tured and taken to the Zoo, under the impression that it had 
 escaped from there. This so pleased the people they cheered 
 him to the echo when he introduced the Equine Marvel as 
 a substitute. 
 
 The Equine Marvel, I regret to say, was not a success. 
 This may have been due to the lustiness of the Colonel's 
 ventriloquial powers, but I formed the opinion that the 
 Marvel was an unwilling performer. 
 
 He refused to stand stiU. He bucked and reared each 
 
ISO 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 time the Colonel approached him, and then lay down; nor 
 could the united efforts of the audience and his master induce 
 him to stand. The Colonel tried to pass this off as part of 
 the performance, but it fell flat, so he roped him up again and 
 proceeded with the Jungle Demonstrations. 
 
 We fought more artistically that night; my rancor against 
 Hawk had vanished, and he, with an eye to the main 
 chance, had no desire to upset me. So we made up for 
 action by noise. I am still reminded of Hawk's roars when- 
 ever I pass a dentist's. 
 
 The Colonel made a praiseworthy attempt to atone for 
 the Marvel's supineness and our lack of ferocity. He re- 
 placed the partition and entered my cage, to give, as he said, 
 ''an ixhibition av Obadiah's edicational faculties," and tried 
 rashly to make me jump over his stick and do other childish 
 tricks. 
 
 But I was in the wrong humor, and pretended to mis- 
 understand him. I felt what he really wanted was a good 
 romp, to take him out of himself, so I frolicked. I don't 
 know if it took him out of himself, but he very quickly took 
 himself out of my cage, and he stopped trying to feed me 
 with raw bones; when public feeding time came directly I got 
 into my stride as a coker-nut shyer, wdth him for the nut. 
 
 After the performance we assembled in the dismantled 
 dressing- tent, and discussed a supper cooked by the Colonel's 
 fair hand. I concluded he didn't intentionally fry the sau- 
 sages in lamp oil, unless he had a turn for quaint flavors, but 
 they are not at their best cooked in that medium, nor is 
 tinned salmon nice when stewed up with onions; but hunger 
 is a good sauce, a better sauce than the Colonel offered us. 
 
 ''There may be wan or two things I can't cook," he had 
 said complacently, "but just you thry this sauce." 
 
 We did. It was one of them. Nevertheless, we made a 
 fair meal, getting over the too flavorsome parts with the 
 aid of chunks of bread. 
 
 Our repast over, Chugg fetched two large horse blankets 
 from his caravan. 
 
MY DOG AND I 151 
 
 "The van's too small f'r more than one to slape in," he 
 apologized, "so ye'll have to shake down here unless you 
 prefer the cage?" 
 
 I was about to demur at sleeping in a drafty tent, when 
 Hawk, who had removed his tiger's head, warned me with 
 a look. 
 
 '^ Well, good night to ye," said the Colonel in a genial voice; 
 "and as to our little talk about ye lavin' the show, forget it. 
 I'll forgive ye. Send the lawyer boy the scrape av your pen 
 on a picture postcard; it'll do as well, and he might come 
 down and see the show." 
 
 Hardly had he dropped the flap of our tent before Hawk 
 eagerly whispered to me — 
 
 "Now for my scheme." 
 
 "If it's anything like the rotten foolery of your former 
 schemes, I'll see you blowed before I follow it," I warned. 
 
 He disregarded the interruption. 
 
 "Here's the position. You must get to those solicitors, 
 for I wrote to 'em and undertook to produce you personally. 
 You have neither money nor clothes, nor will old stick-in- 
 the-mud help you. It's too far to walk in these glad rags, 
 so what's to be done?" 
 
 "Harp on it," I said bitterly. "I thought you just now 
 stated you had some plan?" 
 
 I kicked Obadiah's head at him gloomily. 
 
 "First of all, if you can't walk you can ride." 
 
 "Motor-car?" I snorted. 
 
 "No, the Equine Marvel. These blankets will hide our 
 menagerie skins ' ' 
 
 "Our skins?" 
 
 "Yes, I'm coming too, of course." 
 
 "That's where you make a mistake, old chap," I answered 
 definitely. "I may manage to get through without notice, 
 but if you come we'll have a regular festal crowd to cheer us 
 the whole way. I know you, my friend. I'll play Lady 
 Godiva alone, thank you." 
 
 "Sorry to disappoint you," said Hawk, "but I either come 
 
152 MY DOG AND I 
 
 or you don't go! I'm not such a fool as to let an ugly duckling 
 slip just when it's going to lay golden eggs. A word from me 
 to the Colonel, and pst! you're done." 
 
 So I had to submit. Perhaps now the Demon was out of 
 the way we should get along quieter. Hawk showed me how 
 to jab a hole in the center of the horse blanket for my head, 
 and I was grateful to find when I put it on that Obadiah's 
 skin was hidden. 
 
 Disguised in the other blanket, Hawk softly Hfted the flap, 
 and we entered the big tent, which was dimly lit by a lantern 
 tied to the center pole, and was most eerily still. 
 
 In the feeble light we at first failed to make out the classic 
 form of the Equine Marvel until I was apprised of his where- 
 abouts by having a large mouthful of blanket bitten out of 
 my left shoulder. 
 
 It was obvious the Marvel had gnawed through the rope 
 which held him captive, and was taking a digestive amble 
 round the collection. The way he eluded our grabs at his 
 halter showed a depraved habit of long cultivation. He 
 also looked so malignant whenever I caught his eye that I 
 felt it better to let Hawk capture him, instead of sharing the 
 honor. 
 
 This he effected by subtle means. He pretended he did 
 not see the horse. He turned his back on the animal and 
 gazed at the roof of the tent. The Marvel thought this to be 
 a good opportunity for some tooth work, so he approached 
 him from behind and was immediately caught, and a ten- 
 dency to struggle quickly quelled by a thump on the nose. 
 
 By dint of much force the Equine Marvel was urged out 
 of the tent, and by some miracle — I don't pretend to explain 
 how — we clambered on to his back. 
 
 Hawk sat in front and held the steering gear. I sat behind 
 and held on to Hawk with a grim clutch which nothing less 
 than a cyclone could sever. 
 
 But it is one thing to mount an old circus horse and quite 
 another to make him do what you want, unless you know 
 the key of his combination. To kicks and thumps he was 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 153 
 
 utterly insensible. There he stood, firmly, defiantly, and 
 detached, as though he'd just come out to see what kind of 
 night it was, and whether it was likely he would have to take 
 his umbrella to the office in the morning. 
 
 We tried ''Gee-up!" "Hoop-la!" "Allez!" and other 
 and more suggestive commands. The Sphinx was a piece 
 of quicksilver to the Equine Marvel. 
 
 "This promises well," said Hawk savagely, as he wrenched 
 at the halter again. "We'd better get out and walk. I 
 wonder what does start the brute? The band? Let's whistle 
 to him." 
 
 It was a happy thought. The first bar of "The Star- 
 spangled Banner" fetched him, and he started. Unfortu- 
 nately, however, he moved in a circle, with that peculiar action 
 known, I believe, as the haul ecole — a slow, high-stepping 
 prance. There, under the quite moon, with two anxious hu- 
 mans dressed in blankets and animal skins on his back, did 
 that infernal piebald solemnly cavort in a circle, and nothing we 
 could do or say would stop him. Round and round he went 
 until the very heavens swam before our giddy eyes. Our 
 unguardedly loud remarks at last penetrated the sides of 
 the caravan and reached the Colonel's ears, for as the Marvel 
 curved towards it for the two-hundredth time he was sud- 
 denly confronted by the figure of his owner, awesome in a 
 red and orange pajama suit, at the van's open door. 
 
 The honored Chugg peered in silence for a second. Evi- 
 dently he did not associate this ghostly circus act with either 
 us or his horse. Then he gave vent to an unearthly yell, 
 fled into the caravan again, and banged the door. 
 
 The pajamas unsettled the Equine Marvel, and the yell 
 completed his discomfort. He stopped short, gathered his 
 legs under him, gave one nerve-racking buck, and streaked 
 off across country. 
 
 Hawk clung round his neck, and I clung round Hawk's 
 waist and shut my eyes. 
 
 " Now," shouted Hawk, as we tore a hole through the night, 
 "now we look like getting there in time." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Demonstrates the difficulties of a night ride on an awkward steed. We arrive 
 at my UncWs lawyers, and learn the legacy is based on the production of 
 the dog. The Equine Marvel at Coven t Garden, and Hawk and I at our 
 wits' end. We determine to seek the Colonel's advice. 
 
 It was pure luck that the Equine Marvel lit out in the right 
 direction. For all we knew, he might have headed for Land's 
 End, as our whole minds and bodies were absorbed in the 
 important necessity of sticking on. 
 
 Fortunately he wasn't one of those fat circus horses whose 
 rotundity presents no points of adherence, but rather he 
 favored the alpine or craggy form, deep-hollowed and sharp- 
 angled, which admits of grips. 
 
 Hawk hung on to the rope which deputized for reins with 
 one hand and round the brute's neck with the other, whilst 
 for myself I clung to Hawk with my arms and round the 
 horse's waist with my legs, and earnestly deplored the fact 
 that the species of ape Obadiah belonged to did not run to 
 tail, or I might have been able, as I wore his skin, to loop 
 Obadiah's caudal appendage round some promontory of the 
 Marvel and thus gain further stabihty. 
 
 154 
 
MY DOG AND I 155 
 
 After his first spurt our steed settled into a most uncomfort- 
 able lope, and still obsessed by the idea that he was in a ring, 
 would occasionally swerve in a complete circle and then 
 dash on again, to our intense anxiety; for he gave no signal 
 when he was about to loop the loop, but plunged gaily round 
 without warning. Add to this that we were riding at night 
 without any light save the moon, and that although the 
 Marvel's crags and peaks afforded a good hold, they were 
 precious uncomfortable to sit on, it will be perceived that 
 the pursuit of wealth, such as we were engaged on, had its 
 disadvantages. 
 
 It must have been about the eighth mile of our weird 
 progress when we sighted breakers ahead in the shape of a 
 dim form with a lantern. Hawk was too busy preserving 
 his seat to reverse the engines, even had the Marvel obeyed 
 the helm, so we charged that unhappy lantern-bearer willy- 
 nilly. He, a policeman on patrol, bit the earth, but arose 
 immediately and blew wailfully on his whistle. The Equine, 
 whose musical education had certainly been much neglected, 
 considered any music to be a band, and a circus band at that, 
 and to him the band was a cue, so he circled at the first note 
 of the whistle, stopped a moment, and then began again 
 his haul ecole antics, this time waltzing round the astonished 
 policeman, whom he no doubt took for a ringmaster or clown. 
 
 It must be bad enough to be a night policeman, without 
 being charged at full gallop by an apparently runaway horse; 
 but to have that charger return and solemnly prance round 
 one whilst his half-tiger, half-ape, and human-headed riders 
 storm and cuss at both you and the horse, is a little too much. 
 Anyhow, this is what our victim seemed to think, for he arose 
 and sought safety in the nearest tree, where we heard him 
 scuttle amongst the branches in great agitation. 
 
 The ringmaster gone, our noble Arab concluded his act was 
 over, and assisted by a hearty kick from us both, resumed 
 his camel-like canter. 
 
 "Do you think we shall ever get there, and if so, how can 
 we appear in the streets like this?" I asked. 
 
156 MY DOG AND I 
 
 ''Never trouble trouble till it troubles you," said Hawk 
 cryptically. 
 
 I was glad he took it so calmly. Personally, I didn't care 
 to make a state entry into London dressed as an orang-utan 
 trimmed with a horse blanket, and mounted on one of the 
 two circus horses which came out of the Ark. 
 
 I don't pretend to know how it came about, but we suddenly 
 found ourselves turning out of a lane onto a tram route, 
 along which, albeit there were no trams running, a cavalcade 
 of market carts plodded. 
 
 These gave the Equine Marvel the idea they were a pro- 
 cession, and though he seemed to miss the elephants and 
 band, he fell in docilely in the shade of a large cart covered 
 with cabbages. 
 
 "We'd better keep in the lee of this wagon; it will trot us 
 up to Covent Garden without undue publicity, and once there 
 we can keep out of observation until the lawyers take down 
 their shutters, what?" said Hawk. 
 
 I jerked a ''yes" in reply, any further speech being impos- 
 sible, for the Marvel, who was a most conscientious beggar 
 at times, had adopted a processional gait of high steps and 
 mechanical prances which felt like sitting on a steam hammer, 
 and most of my breath was gone. 
 
 I was conscious of a growing sense of loneliness. Hawk 
 maintained a morose silence. I longed for the company of 
 the Demon, now, alas! no doubt gone to his long rest in the 
 interior of a bear. 
 
 The Old Kent Road flitted drearily by; the Elephant and 
 Castle wobbled past, and Waterloo Road depressed me to 
 an unexpected extent. To my mind it was as though the 
 lost soul of everyone who had ever missed a train hovered 
 there. Over the bridge the silhouette of Somerset House 
 drew a spasmodic chuckle from Hawk. 
 
 "Think of us walking in there dressed thusly to demand a 
 sight of your Uncle's will!" he said. 
 
 Past the Lyceum and up Wellington Street paced the 
 Equine Marvel. Then vanmen woke up, and tugged and 
 
MY DOG AND I 157 
 
 cussed as is their wont, and amidst an indescribable hubbub 
 we reached the market. 
 
 Hawk motioned me to alight, and slipping off himself, led 
 the horse slightly out of the main scrum to where some empty 
 carts stood by the railings. Here he tethered the Equine 
 Marvel, carefully chose a comfortable covered van, climbed 
 into it, and went to sleep as though such a thing was to him 
 nothing unusual. 
 
 I followed, but stayed awake with one eye on the horse, 
 who had found several damaged carrots and walked into 
 them like a starving man. 
 
 I had no desire to lose the Colonel's pet and render myself 
 liable to a charge of horse-stealing. Americanized as he was, 
 I had a notion Chugg might try to lynch me, or do something 
 equally Arizona-Ike-like. 
 
 At half-past six Hawk awoke, and we descended from the 
 van into a rainy world. The sky positively leaked. It was 
 as if the principal cistern overhead had burst and all the 
 plumbers had gone on strike; but soaking as it was, we were 
 not sorry, for our blankets made us look much like drenched 
 market porters to anyone who had the time to look, though 
 most of them were in too much of a hurry to get into shelter 
 to worry about our taste in fashions. 
 
 Hawk led me down Henrietta Street to the block of offices 
 which contained Messrs. Upotterys' legal den, and to our 
 delight we found the outside door propped open by a pail. I 
 knew it was a pail, because I fell over it. We cautiously 
 entered. A former visit to my Uncle's lawyers reminded me 
 that their suite of rooms was on the ground floor, so we 
 located it with little difficulty. 
 
 Here again luck was in our way. The office door stood 
 open, and broomy sounds bespoke the presence of the morn- 
 ing charwoman. Hawk peered in. 
 
 ''She's in the farthest room," he whispered. "Come on, 
 we can hide." 
 
 Messrs. Upotterys' offices consisted of four rooms, opening 
 out of each other. The first, in which we found ourselves, 
 
158 MY DOG AND I 
 
 was the clerk's ofl&ce, where clients stewed until the firm 
 could see them; the second was devoted to the head clerk, a 
 certain Blenkins; the third to a cousin of the firm, who had 
 little to do with its actual work save when he put niore capital 
 into it; and the fourth was the shrine of Son, the senior 
 Upottery having descended to the legal heaven some years 
 previous. The charlady was dimly observable in the shrine 
 in the center of a cloud of dust. 
 
 Hawk raised the counter flap in the clerks' office and drew 
 me behind it. 
 
 "Duck!" he whispered tersely. "She's finished in here; so 
 when she's done old Kafoosalum's room she'll be off." 
 
 We therefore ducked, and in a few minutes had the satis- 
 faction of seeing the lady depart. Directly she had gone we 
 made for the shrine. I had a vague recollection of a cup- 
 board therein from which the firm had produced sherry and 
 biscuits for my delectation when I first visited them., and 
 was delighted to find a supply still there. The sherry was the 
 same, but the biscuits I was glad to see were fresh, and after 
 our lengthy ride they greatly refreshed us, but Hawk need 
 not have made such a mess with the crumbs. 
 
 Young Upottery had been at school with me, so I hoped 
 he wouldn't mind the liberty we'd taken \\ith his provisions. 
 He had often shared the humble but satisfying pork-pie with 
 me in dormitory days, and I remembered him as a genial 
 chap. 
 
 We were both tired with the ride on that lumpy and 
 spasmodic horse, and after our meal must have fallen asleep, 
 for I recollect a loud "Ahem!" woke me with a start. A 
 clerk and an office boy stood and stared at us. 
 
 "What is it?" asked the clerk. 
 
 "Some freaks for the music-hall agency upstairs blown in 
 here by mistake," suggested the office boy in a hlase voice. 
 "You remember we 'ad a harmless wonder 'op in 'ere t'other 
 day and want to fight the guv. for not giving him a contract." 
 
 "Well," said the clerk, "they can't stop here, you know. 
 Ask 'em to clear out." 
 
MY DOG AND I 159 
 
 "You fellers," said the office boy, " 'ave made a mistake. 
 This ain't the missin' link office. Next floor, third door on 
 the left, ask for Mr. Isaacstein; that's your mark." 
 
 Hawk arose in his wrath to demand apologies, 
 and would have done so by force had not the 
 firm entered at that moment. 
 
 Upottery Junior was a tall, lathy, lamposty 
 individual with a lisp, and was worth his weight 
 in gold to the firm, of which he was now the head. 
 Old gentlemen itched to pat his good young 
 crest, recalcitrant defendants softened at his upottery. 
 bland voice and paid up, and old ladies became 
 clients at the mere sight of him. He was a stickler for proper 
 dress, and such an exquisite that our unconventional appear- 
 ance nearly paralyzed him. 
 
 '' Can it be Dobbth? " he stammered, as his eyes roved over 
 Obadiah's mangy skin. 
 
 ''It is," I answered. " What did you want me for? I only 
 heard yesterday." 
 
 "You're a benefithiary under your Uncle'th will," he said 
 mildly. "But where have you thprung from, in thuch 
 clotheth too?" 
 
 "Never mind about his clothes," cut in Hawk; "we've 
 had a hard job to get here, and have no time to spare. Cut 
 out the questions and come to the answers, my young friend." 
 
 The firm gave him a pained look, and continued — 
 
 "Well, perhapth we may leave detailth till later. I'll read 
 you the will tho far ath it relateth to you." 
 
 He opened the safe as he spoke and withdrew a document 
 which crackled in a pleasantly bank-notish way, and read — 
 
 "Umph! Ahem! Immphm! Ah, here we are . . . 
 'And to my nephew Arthur Dobbth I give and bequeath a 
 quarter share in my Pectoral Pellet buthineth, together with 
 the thum of twenty thouthand poundth in contholth free of 
 death duty, and my collection of carved mouth- trap th ' " 
 
 "Twenty thousand and a quarter share in a big business! 
 I congratulate you, old boy. We'll have the time of our fives, 
 
i6o MY DOG AND I 
 
 what?" enthused Hawk. "My own idea is a houseboat for 
 the summer and a flat in the West End in the season, eh?" 
 
 He took it for granted we shared equally, a point I de- 
 termined to disillusionize him upon directly I came into my 
 own. 
 
 "Thtop!" said the lawyer with deHcate hand upraised. 
 *'Thereth a a codithil dated three monthth ago which re- 
 voked all that, and leaveth you only the remainth of thome 
 home Turkish bath, and giveth all the retht to the Thothiety 
 for Prothecuting Boguth Doctorth." 
 
 "Ugh!" groaned Hawk. "That is the result of your silly 
 tricks. Don't count on me any more." 
 
 "But," went on Upottery, "he added another codithil 
 later to thith effect, that he left you an interetht in the 
 buthineth of a thouthand a year, five thouthand in cash, and 
 hith favorite fountain pen " 
 
 " Changeable old boy," threw in Hawk, " but we can 
 manage pretty well on that, and I want a fountain pen." 
 
 — "On condition th you put in an appearance by Thep- 
 tember the thixth, together with your dog known ath the 
 Demon, and the entire legacy ith contingent on the dog 
 li\ang thixth month from that date. On the production of 
 the dog I am empowered to pay you two hundred and fifty 
 poundth, and if you attend again in thixth monthth, in 
 accordance with the termth and conditionth of the will, you 
 thall be put in pothethion of the legathy. 
 
 And to the best of my behef the Demon was engulfed in 
 the bosom of a beastly bear, if he was not already digested. 
 
 Hawk's jaw dropped, and mine nearly fell on the floor. 
 The lawyer fixed a gazelle-like eye on the ceiling, and softly 
 whistled an air from the Barber of Seville, possibly as a mild 
 protest against my hairy appearance. 
 
 "W — what happens if the dog is not produced?" I stam- 
 mered. 
 
 He referred to the will, and read — 
 
 "In event of the dog dying or being murdered durin' the 
 thtated period, then I give the five thouthand to the Home 
 
MY DOG AND I i6i 
 
 for Ethiopian Mithionarieth of unthtable Mind, and the 
 interetht in the buthineth to my adopted daughter Pectora." 
 
 ''Of course," I said weakly, as beads of agony splashed 
 down my face, "of course, I shall produce the dog, you 
 know." 
 
 ''Thertainly it would be a good idea," smiled the firm. 
 "The fatal day ith to-morrow, so thall we thay eleven?" 
 
 I agreed. He might as well say eleven. It was a case of 
 the eleventh hour in good sooth. 
 
 "Very good, then; and in the meantime, ath an old friend, 
 if a tenner would be of thervith? I can thee thereth thome- 
 thing radically wrong with your affairth, but when your 
 Uncle uthed to try to explain he alwayth lotht hith breath, 
 tho what it ith I don't know." 
 
 I hurriedly told him the subject was a painful one, and 
 Upottery, lawyer as he was, was so used to rifts in family 
 lutes he forbore to press me for details. 
 
 Hawk, with his usual insufferable cheek, thanked him for 
 the tenner, and fervently assured him it would be of consider- 
 able service. He also added we had been forced to turn up in 
 our present garb through the loss of our ordinary clothes whilst 
 at a fancy dress ball, a most unnecessary lie, as the lawyer 
 seemed to have a pretty shrewd idea, from the circusy aroma 
 of the blankets we wore, that we had been lying low in the 
 guise of mummers. 
 
 I was fairly bewildered about the loss of the Demon, but 
 had still enough sense left to take the money he produced 
 before Hawk got it, and we parted with mutual salutations 
 after the office boy had fetched a cab. 
 
 Hawk suggested and I agreed that our first move should 
 be in the direction of a clothier's. Two ulsters which reached 
 to our feet, boots and a hat apiece made us a bit more re- 
 spectable; then we drove to a quiet place and discussed a 
 breakfast and our latest quandary. 
 
 "The Colonel'll be the boy to put us right," said Hawk. 
 " He's in a way responsible for the Demon too, for if his bear 
 hadn't interfered you'd be a bloated millionaire. His ex- 
 
l62 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 perience of tight corners will help, and he prides himself on 
 disappointing nobody." 
 It was my last chance. 
 
 "But," I said, "you don't get me on the Equine Marvel 
 again. I'm going by train." 
 
 "By the way, we'd better see what has become of that 
 thoroughbred," said Hawk, getting up. "Not that anyone 
 would be likely to steal him, but we don't want to upset the 
 Colonel if we need his help." 
 
 We found the Marvel's halter still on the railings, but not 
 a sign of its wearer. A little farther off there was a large ring 
 of people, as though a fight were in progress, so we walked 
 over to see if the horse was one of the spectators. An animal 
 of his caliber couldn't be looked on as an ordinary horse. It 
 was quite likely he was holding a combatant's coat, or acting 
 as referee or timekeeper. 
 
 In effect he was the whole show. Buoyed up by unexpected 
 carrots, the old mummy had began to sit up and take notice. 
 He must have reasoned that the Covent Garden multitude 
 
 was a circus audience, and 
 that it was incumbent on him 
 to amuse them, hence the 
 crowd; for in the circular cen- 
 ter of it we saw the Marvel 
 gravely seated going through 
 all the stereotyped motions 
 of a gourmet at dinner. One 
 market porter obliged as 
 clown and waiter, and another 
 slightly more drunken one en- 
 livened the business with a 
 mouth-organ. 
 
 Hawk grunted. How were 
 
 we to lure the old crock into 
 
 private life again? We were 
 
 about to try a sudden attack on him with the halter, but were 
 
 saved any trouble by the arrival of a policeman, who sternly 
 
 The Equine at Covent Garden. 
 
MY DOG AND I 163 
 
 broke up the audience, borrowed a rope, and led the Equine 
 Marvel off. 
 
 ''So he's safe for a bit," said Hawk, ''and we are free to 
 seek the Colonel and your dog." 
 
 We hastened to Victoria and caught a train for the nearest 
 station to the unearthly place where the Menagerie Aggrega- 
 tion lay, and I spent a frantic hour in the train asking myself, 
 to the tune of the whirr and bump of the wheels, if it was any 
 good relying on a Colonel who made a living by humbugging 
 the public and inveigling innocent men into animals' skins. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Deals with our return and reception by the Colonel, who agrees to search for 
 the dog, and durijig his absence we feed the animals. Too 7nany flavors 
 spoil the dish. A cod-liver oil entree. We decorate the Colonel's caravan. 
 
 Colonel Chugg's Amusement Emporium looked lonely with 
 its entrance flap closed and no sign of life near it. The 
 caravan was also shut up, and the whole place reminded me 
 rather of a disused cemetery. 
 
 We peeped through the slit in the small tent, but it was 
 empty, and we thumped the sides of the larger one without 
 evoking a sound save a mournful crawk from the birds of 
 paradise. 
 
 "Perhaps the beggar's done something rash, what?" sug- 
 gested Hawk. 
 
 "Let's try the caravan before we buy a wreath, though," 
 I said; "possibly he's asleep. Anyhow, I hope we shall find 
 him, for we shall need all the help we can get to produce the 
 Demon in time, that is if he is at all producible." 
 
 Hawk therefore mounted the steps of the van, took a grip 
 of the door-handle, and hung back and tugged. It was his 
 own fault not to have tried the door gently first, because it 
 came open without any effort, and thus precipitated him 
 backwards down the steps again, and that he did not pull the 
 caravan over with him is a standing marvel. 
 
 After a brief and scarlet interval w^e investigated the 
 interior of the Colonel's peripatetic mansion. 
 
 "Natty httle place," approved Hawk, as he nosed about, 
 peered into cupboards, sampled the edibles, and generallv 
 made himself at home. 
 
 "See if he's under the bunk," I said, as I explored a large 
 box. 
 
 "He's not here," replied Hawk, "so I say, did you 
 
 close the door?" 
 
 164 
 
MY DOG AND I 165 
 
 *'No, I did not," I said, as I noticed the door was shut, 
 although I had not heard it close; and it was locked too, for 
 when I tried to push it open it wouldn't budge. 
 
 "Someone's playing the goat," said Hawk, with rising 
 
 choler; "some wretched boy must have watched us c' 
 
 Whoop, mind your eye!" 
 
 I started and looked up. There in the roof, where a few 
 minutes before had stood a ventilator, waved a revolver- 
 garnished hand of such size it could only belong to the 
 Colonel. Through what was left of the opening came a sharp 
 voice of command. 
 
 "At the wurrd 'Wan' ye'll stand back to back, whoiver 
 ye are; at the wurrd 'Two' ye'll lock your arrums togither 
 an' take up a position dirictly onder me gun, me darlints; an' 
 at the wurrd ' Three ' ye'll have something f 'r the good av 
 ye're sowls. Have ye got that? Then 'Wan!'" With one 
 glance at the weapon, we stood back to back. "Two!" We 
 locked our arms and stood fearfully under the ventilator hole. 
 "Three!" The pistol was swiftly withdrawn, a rope de- 
 scended, and in a second we were encircled by a noose. In 
 another second we swung awkwardly a foot from the floor, 
 whilst the Colonel took a turn of the rope round the caravan 
 chimney. 
 
 As he clambered from the roof I heard him mutter — 
 
 "This is where your Uncle Chugg gets his own back. I 
 thought if I waited long enough I'd cop the fellers who've 
 been thavin'. Furrst me incubator, thin me money, thin me 
 star tioger an' monk, not countin' th' Equine Marvel, an' 
 now be dinged ef they ain't burglin' me cabin. We'll have 
 a look at ye, me fine lads, an' give ye what's comin' to ye." 
 
 He fumbled with the latch and came in, and turned to close 
 the door behind him in order to enjoy his revenge in private. 
 Hawk, infuriated by the tightness of the rope, had wriggled 
 all the time the Colonel descended, and had thus given our 
 hampered forms a pendulum-like swing, which caught the 
 Colonel squarely in the rear as he turned. 
 
 With a grunt of surprise, he pitched through the open 
 
i66 MY DOG AND I 
 
 doorway, whilst the sudden jerk when we struck him in some 
 way snapped the rope, so that we swung out, fell apart in the 
 air, and landed on the cold, hard ground about the same 
 time as the Stars-and-Stripes-of-old-Erin gentleman demon- 
 strated the law of gravity, by crashing to the earth. 
 
 *'Why, boys!" said the Colonel, as after he had wiped the 
 fireworks out of his eyes he saw who it was. ''An' where f'r 
 the love av Hivcn have ye been? I thought me show was 
 hoodooed, f'r I had a vision last night av a ghost circus horse, 
 wid ghoul riders, doin' stunts in the moonlight; an' when I 
 looked into the tint this mornin' sorra a wan av ye was prisint, 
 nor the Equine neither. An ixplanation 'd clear th' atmos- 
 phere. Me own imprission has bin that the thaves had come 
 back an' shanghied ye both. If so, I'm sorry; if not, an' ye've 
 been playin' the smart Alecs wid my property, I'll bust the 
 faces av both av ye. Savvy? Now spake up." 
 
 Hawk took the lead. 
 
 "You see. Colonel, it was imperative for Dobbs to turn up 
 at that lawyer's, so as you refused to allow him to go, we 
 couldn't rest, and took a turn in the open air to cool ourselves 
 down. The Equine Marvel came with us to see we weren't 
 molested. Then the beggar ran away with us, and you'd 
 hardly believe it, but he took us straight to the lawyer's. 
 Marvelous sagacity some horses have to be sure. Colonel. 
 There we were informed that Dobbs has been left a fortune 
 which would put the wildest profits your incubator was 
 capable of in the everlasting shade " 
 
 The Colonel here rose impressively and extended a slab 
 hand. 
 
 ''Put it thar, son," he said. "I always thought ye had 
 something in ye. If ye'll lend me the loan av a pencil an' 
 paper I'll jot down a partnership agreement to wance, or," 
 he added in a benignant way, "I'm open to dispose av the 
 whole shoot for twinty thousand dollars. The sacred cow — 
 buffalo I mane — is worth that alone; but I don't mind," he 
 said recklessly, "anythin' to oblige ye." 
 
 Hawk impatiently waved him aside. 
 
MY DOG AND I 167 
 
 "There is an important condition attached to the legacy. 
 He must produce his dog at the lawyer's to-morrow or he 
 loses all." 
 
 "And your confounded bear's eaten him," I said gloomily. 
 
 "Me bar aten him? Niver belave it," said the Colonel. 
 "He's got no tathe, to start with, an' been brung up strictly 
 as a Wesleyan — vegitarian, I mane. So fur as Rastus is con- 
 cerned, that pup's alive an' bright an' happy." 
 
 "Yes, but he's not here," I complained. 
 
 " Lave it to me, me bhoy," replied the Colonel; "I'll find 
 um f'r ye, if it takes me years." 
 
 "But it's a question of hours," I urged. "I'd give any- 
 thing to be able to produce him." 
 
 The Colonel favored the Hawk type of creature, in that 
 no difficulty appeared to depress him, and he also had the 
 same eye to the main chance which my friend suffered 
 from. 
 
 "The houldin' capacity av me show is six pounds English. 
 Two shows a day is twilve pounds. Call it twinty in round 
 figures. Will ye reimburse me if I close down to-day an' 
 assist ye?" 
 
 "I will," I fervently replied. "The recovery of the Demon 
 would be cheap at that figure." 
 
 "Good," said the Colonel promptly. "So I'll start to 
 wance. By th' way, where's th' Equine Marvel?" 
 
 "He's all right; we left him in safe hands," Hawk answered 
 in a hurry, and I made a mental note to communicate with 
 the police before they sold the brute to pay expenses. 
 
 "Right. Now you bhoys '11 hev to make ye'selves comfy 
 whilst I git busy on Rastus's track. There's ceegars in the 
 van an' a drop av the cratur lift, I belave. If any av the 
 public come around I'll lave a notice up to say we're closed 
 for rehearsals av a new jungle drama, 'Thrown to the Lions; 
 or, The Roman Gladiator's Trip to Coney Island.' I'll be 
 around by avenin', an' in the manetime ye'd oblige me by 
 fadin' the animals," he concluded, as he tried to unconcertina 
 the top hat on which he had recently sat, and after a hearty 
 
i68 MY DOG AND I 
 
 farewell plodded off in the direction the Demon and Rastus 
 had disappeared the previous day. 
 
 By the cheap alarm clock in the Colonel's boudoir it was 
 only midday, so we had many hours to wait before he re- 
 turned. 
 
 After we had pinned up the notice to the effect that the 
 show was closed, we explored minutely every drawer, box 
 and corner of the caravan to pass the time. I marveled that 
 the Colonel troubled to carry such an awful lot of rubbish 
 with him. Stacks of inspired newspaper cuttings, beside 
 which patent medicine testimonials were rank pessimism; 
 photographs of freaks, of the Colonel himself, of animals, of 
 brethren and sisteren of the road and ring, and a daguerreo- 
 type of an enormously fat woman surrounded by ten fat 
 children, and the upper part of the Colonel himself, the lower 
 being obscured by a young Coloneless — evidently a family 
 group. A bicycle pump, toothpicks, twine and chewing-gum, 
 with a mass of patent specifications, filled any cracks amongst 
 the other litter. 
 
 He was an inventive soul, the Colonel. My own efforts in 
 that direction were child's play to his. Besides the incubator, 
 we read of patents for celluloid false teeth, for clockwork 
 roller-skates, for a non-explosive gunpowder, and for a weird 
 mixture which taken internally was a tonic in summer and a 
 cough cure in winter, and rubbed externally acted as a pain- 
 killer and hair-wash, and melted down was a splendid lubri- 
 cant for axles; and a scheme for utilizing Niagara to irrigate 
 the Sahara. Oh, his was the fertile brain! 
 
 ''If he can evolve all these things," said Hawk, "he'll find 
 a way to catch the Demon without the trouble of putting salt 
 on his tail. Ah, here are the cigars! Got a match?" 
 
 I had, and immediately wished I hadn't. We lit up, but 
 the Colonel might have mentioned they were trick cigars with 
 a cap fixed at every three puffs. My first good draw nearly 
 blew my eye out, and Hawk's cigar went off bang directly he 
 Ht it. 
 
 We couldn't find the "drop of the cratur." The only 
 
MY DOG AND I 169 
 
 bottle labelled '* Special" we found contained about three- 
 quarters of a gallon of cod-liver oil, which did not appeal to 
 us as a beverage, though no doubt it had its uses. 
 
 Time hung heavily. The strain of wondering if the Colonel 
 would find the Demon was insupportable. So to take our 
 minds off the stern state of fortune, we decided to fall in with 
 the Colonel's wish and feed the animals. 
 
 "Chugg's a humane beggar, or else he wouldn't trouble 
 over the crocks. If they were mine I'd shoot 'em. But he 
 omitted to say where their grub was kept," murmured Hawk. 
 
 As a matter of fact, we couldn't find a vestige of animal 
 food, unless they ate straw. We tried a handful on one of 
 the monkeys, but the fuss it made when Hawk stuffed some 
 down its throat was ridiculous. 
 
 "There's some cheese and pickles and sardines in the cara- 
 van," Hawk said hopefully, as he held a bitten thumb in his 
 mouth; ''perhaps they'd like some of that, what? Look at 
 those birds of paradise. Think how a pickled chilli would 
 buck 'em up." 
 
 "Yes, and a sardine or two'd do that Siamese moocow 
 good." 
 
 "Make another good patent for Chugg. How to feed cows 
 on tinned food to make 'em give tinned milk, eh?" chuckled 
 Hawk, as he went to raid the Colonel's larder. 
 
 We found the sardines, cheese and pickles, and also un- 
 earthed a tin of curry, a pot of raspberry jam, mustard, 
 Worcester sauce and onions, to which we added some odd 
 bits of chewing-gum. 
 
 Hawk regarded the provender thoughtfully. He said it 
 was hardly fair to give the cow the sardines and cheese, the 
 birds of paradise the pickles and curry, the wolves the onions 
 and mustard, and the happy family the rest, because if the 
 cow preferred chewing-gum and jam she'd feel she hadn't 
 had her money's worth without them. 
 
 His idea was to make a noble dish, a kind of ragout, of the 
 lot, and share it out equally; then if the birds of paradise 
 didn't fancy the curry, the next mouthful they took would be 
 
lyo 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 a nice flavorsome bit of mustard or some jam and chewing- 
 gum. 
 
 "Nothing an animal likes so much as a varied diet," he 
 said, as he stirred the ingredients into two pails, adding now 
 a handful of mustard, now a sardine, now a lump of cheese, 
 with the air of a West End chef. "This will be the finest 
 meal they ever had. Make 'em perk up and snort, what? " 
 
 We carried in the food, which Hawk had christened "Hors 
 d'CEuvre du Maitre de la Menagerie," although to my mind 
 "Hors de Combat des Animaux" was a more appropriate 
 title, and the hungry things crowded close to the bars of their 
 several cages, for the strange aroma of the new dish awakened 
 their interest. 
 
 Hawk slopped the mixture into some tins and put a gen- 
 erous portion into each cage. 
 
 The whole collection — the birds of paradise, the sacred 
 buffalo, the wolves, and the happy family — fell to, and after 
 
 the first mouthful fell over. 
 Whether it was the mus- 
 tard or the curry that took 
 them by storm is an open 
 question, but in a moment 
 pandemonium reigned. 
 The sacred buffalo picked 
 herself up, and with a sav- 
 age bellow hoofed the hors 
 d'oeuvre out of her cage; 
 the monkeys of the happy 
 family fled to the roof of 
 their happy home and 
 gibbered frantically; their 
 pig and goat relatives, each of whom seemed to imagine 
 the other had played a practical joke on him, fought fren- 
 ziedly; and the birds of paradise, who were really pheasants 
 with peacock's feathers seccotined on, lay on their backs and 
 squawked; the wolves howled like lost souls. 
 
 Hawk was very indignant, and as he mopped off the hors 
 
 Feeding the Animals. 
 
MY DOG AND I 171 
 
 d'ceuvre which the cow, in the heat of the moment and the 
 mustard, had shot over him, he said — 
 
 "What do the beggars want, then? I believe it's a nasty 
 fanciful way they've got into, or else their stomachs are out 
 of order. They must need a tonic, something to give 'em an 
 appetite. Fetch that cod-liver oil, Dobbs; they'd better be 
 dosed." 
 
 " You'll never get 'em to take it," I demurred. 
 
 ''Bring it and the bicycle pump, too; I'll give 'em a tonic," 
 he commanded grimly. 
 
 Pump in hand, he waited until the cow opened her mouth 
 to bellow when the hors d'ceuvre kicked, and squished a 
 good half-pint down her throat. I never saw an animal look 
 so astonished. He had to content himself with spraying the 
 birds of paradise externally, as they wouldn't open their 
 beaks, but the happy family got their share. Each time a 
 monkey yawned, splash went a dose into his mouth. Hawk's 
 aim was good, and he did his best, but he looked hurt at the 
 lack of appreciation accorded his efforts for their welfare. 
 
 The pig saved his faith in animal nature by taking the end 
 of the pump in his slobby lips and with a smile of ineffable 
 content allowed Hawk to fill him with oil to the brim. 
 
 Even after we had dealt with the animals a blank vista of 
 empty hours stretched before us; and although we got some 
 amusement from the disappointed looks of people who had 
 come to see the show and had to go home without doing so, 
 time still hung heavily. 
 
 So we turned to and decorated the caravan for its absent 
 master. I had found some distemper colors such as scene- 
 painters use, and Hawk undertook to brighten her up a bit. 
 When he had finished, the brightness of the colors was nicely 
 balanced by the somberness of the subjects he had chosen. 
 
 The left side showed, in purple and green, an interior view 
 of the nether world according to Dante; the right side bore a 
 vermilion study of the French Revolution during a business 
 rush, and the little window of the caravan was cleverly 
 worked into the top of the guillotine. 
 
172 MY DOG AND I 
 
 I still think the back was his magnum opus. Here was seen 
 the Colonel being mangled by the entire strength of the 
 menagerie, over the legend, ''Dimonsthrations av Life in 
 th' Jungle a Spiciality." 
 
 The front bore a further portrait of the Colonel pushing 
 the Earth into a huge incubator. Then, after he had deco- 
 rated the shafts into green snakes, Hawk turned his artistic 
 talents to the inside of the van. 
 
 He had barely finished turning the drawers and cupboards 
 into nice cheery-looking coffins (their brass handles gave a 
 touch of reahty to the thing), and painted a reahstic skeleton 
 in the larder in the act of stabbing a poor, tottering, aged 
 gorgonzola, when a rumbustious voice smote upon our ears. 
 Its tones were the Colonel's, and as he caroled I wondered in 
 a heart-sick way if he had been successful. 
 
 " It ixpresses wot we mane, sorrs, 
 Thot there niver yit was seen, sorrs, 
 Such a scorchin' exhibishun as this here partic'lar show." 
 
 sang the Colonel as he jovially greeted us. Had he really 
 brought the dog? He seemed happy enough. The next few 
 minutes would show. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 The Colonel brings news of the dog, and resumes the chase, but at the last 
 moment produces a suhstitute. Which is unmasked by my cousin. I 
 learn there was no reason why I should have left home. The Colonel 
 finds the dog at the eleventh hour. 
 
 We clambered out of the wagon to receive the Colonel in 
 state, and when the decorations smote him in the eye he 
 was in as great a state as ever he could have wished for. 
 The Dante side struck him first, and he dropped the multi- 
 farious bundles he carried and walked somnambulistically 
 round the van to see if there was anything to counteract the 
 shock on the other side. It was a mercy he only saw it in 
 the twilight, for as it was the green snake shafts nearly sent 
 him into a nervous breakdown, and the guillotine incident 
 drew a sob from his over- wrought heart. 
 
 But I was in too much of a hurry to bother about his feel- 
 ings, and splurged forward with an eager — 
 
 ''Well, have you got him?" 
 
 "All in good time, me bhoy," repKed the Colonel, as he 
 sat down on a parcel he had brought with him, and mopped 
 the art-engendered perspiration from his heated brow. 
 ''All in good time. I got on the track av Rastus about five 
 miles along the trail. The pup was wid him then, I was told, 
 so I concluded they shtruck up a frindship, for Rastus was 
 a gintle feller barrin' his tindincy to wrop his arrums around 
 anythin' he loved, an' no doubt the pup had learnt to kape 
 to windward av um. Anyway, they'd made London way, 
 an' ten miles furder on I got news av um agin. It was tould 
 me they'd been seen wid some people, an' from the discription 
 'twas the dago an' th' princess they'd fell in wid. A feller 
 tould me he'd seen a bear an' a pup in tow av a dark guy wid 
 a female woman wid um, an' the guy was makin' the bear 
 
 173 
 
174 MY DOG AND I 
 
 dance whilst the feminine lady took up a collection along the 
 route. So y' see I got on their track like blazes," he concluded 
 complacently. 
 
 ''Then you found the Demon?" I asked. 
 
 "Nope. Not yit. But from what I know av the dago he'll 
 be in London to-night, an' whin he's thar the only place he 
 can put up'll be his brother's, who runs an ice cream joint an' 
 has a convanient stable f'r organs, monks, an' bears, such 
 as his Eyetalian countrymen carry around wid um. I'm on 
 me way there now, but I called back to give ye th' good 
 news before I wint an' collared um. You bet your life I'll 
 grab thot pup whin I git thar; an' as I cyant come back 
 agin to-night, I'll mate ye outside th' lawyer's in th' 
 marnin'." 
 
 "And will it be all right?" we both asked anxiously. 
 
 "Sure's you're alive. I've niver yit disappoint " 
 
 "Yes, w^e know all about that," interjected Hawk. 
 "What we want to know is, are we to come with you? 
 
 "Somewan must stop with the show. I've lost enough," 
 said the Colonel. " Lave it as I said. You mate me outside 
 the lawyer bhoy's, after you've left all square here. Half- 
 past ten in the marnin' '11 do. Ye can't do any good by com- 
 in', an' there's sure to be a scrap whin I pursuade the dago 
 to render unto Caesar th' pup thot belongs to his frind." 
 
 "Very well," I answered dubiously. 
 
 There certainly was reason in what he said. We could do 
 little good if we did come up, so we might as well wait. 
 
 "I've brought ye some clothes," said Chugg. "Ye'll be 
 wearin' out me skins if ye don't give um a rist," and produced 
 from a parcel a cheap ready-made suit with chess-board 
 checks, a pink shirt, a green tie, and a large collar. These 
 he gazed on admiringly and handed to Hawk with a sigh, as 
 who should say, "Here is tonsorial perfection." 
 
 From another parcel he pulled out a bright blue Early 
 Victorian frock-coat with a velvet collar, a ruffled shirt 
 a la Byron, and a figured waistcoat of roses trailed over a 
 tartan background. Finally, he opened a basket, and after 
 
MY DOG AND I 175 
 
 taking out some bottles, a cucumber, a ham, a packet of 
 sandwiches, a pork-pie and a loaf, delicately lifted out a pair 
 of lavender peg-top trousers. 
 
 *' There!" said he. ''There's some glad rags, bhoys. Got 
 'em from a frind who's a theatrical costoomer. I'm thinkin' 
 you'll be the greatest ever in them." 
 
 I looked at the clothes and silently thanked Providence 
 our motor ulsters were long. 
 
 After he had joined us in a repast from the basket, he 
 looked into the menagerie, fed the animals from a store of 
 food he kept under each cage (a store we had not seen, so we 
 forbore to worry him with details of the table d'hote we gave 
 the collection), he shook hands, and left us to our reflections. 
 
 When we turned in I told Hawk he need not have played 
 the artistic ass with the inside of the caravan, anyway. It is 
 no joke to sleep in what looks like a cross between an under- 
 taker's store-room and a family vault. However, despite his 
 portraits of coffins, I managed to go to sleep and to wake 
 before he did, and thus collar the check suit in preference to 
 the Early Victorian costume. 
 
 We fed and watered the animals, and I made everything 
 as secure as possible, whilst Hawk swiftly painted a large 
 notice on the tent to the effect that the show was closed 
 owing to the funeral of the proprietor's esteemed wife, who 
 who had died of scarlet fever in the caravan, 
 
 ''That'll keep 'em off," he said, as he stepped back to 
 catch the full glow of "Scarlet Fever" in foot-high capitals. 
 
 Then, as the Colonel would say, we hit the trail and scat- 
 tooed. 
 
 Again the train took up the burden of my thoughts. Would 
 the Colonel turn up — bump, bump? Or would he not — 
 bangity, bang? Hawk, as usual, slept. He became very wide- 
 awake though when we reached Victoria, and ignoring the 
 fact it was only nine o'clock, insisted on a taxicab and the 
 speed limit, so we reached our destination with nearly an 
 hour and a half to spare. 
 
 We trampled morosely up and down Henrietta Street until 
 
176 MY DOG AND I 
 
 ten struck, and then took up a strategic point of vantage 
 near Upottery's offices, and kept our eyes open for the 
 Colonel. 
 
 Half-past ten came and went, so did a quarter to eleven, 
 then ten to, and it was within four minutes of our appoint- 
 ment with the lawyer when the Colonel, red and breathless, 
 tore up with a dog on a chain flying behind him. 
 
 But not the Demon. The Demon may have been ugly, 
 but he never in his most hideous aspect 
 came to such a pitch of horror as the 
 extraordinary animal the Colonel had 
 in tow. It was a pup, but what kind 
 was and is beyond me. It was long in 
 the body and short in the head, higher 
 behind than before, and its tail was 
 The deputy Demon, like a derelict scrubbing brush. It 
 was every sad color from sage-green 
 to neutral tint. It seemed to be the last product of mongrel- 
 ism reduced to a science, and one of its ears had been chewed 
 off and its left eye was watery. 
 ''Where's the Demon?" 
 
 "Whist!" blew the Colonel, "I was mistook in me judge- 
 mints. The dago niver wint near his brother's, an' I couldn't 
 find um at all, at all. But I wouldn't disappoint ye. Ye 
 said the solicitor had niver seen the pup, so wan's as good 
 as another. Call um the Demon, an' who's to know he 
 ain't?" 
 
 It was a last chance. Full of misgiving, I took that fear- 
 some hound by his chain and tugged him across the road. 
 Hawk followed, and the Colonel, with a paternal air, brought 
 up the rear. 
 
 We were ushered into the managing clerk's office first, 
 and he, Mr. Blenkins, cast one look at the dog and hurriedly 
 sought the fresh air. 
 
 "Where on earth did you get him?" I whispered angrily 
 to the Colonel, who proudly replied that he had found him 
 on Saffron Hill with a kettle tied to his tail, and thus regarded 
 
MY DOG AND I 177 
 
 him as a direct sending of the gods. To me he looked like 
 the practical joke of some malignant spirit. 
 
 As dandiacal as ever, Upottery himself came in on the 
 stroke of eleven, shook hands all round, returned the Colonel's 
 old Virginian bow with an equally graceful inclination, 
 sniffed dubiously, and got to business. 
 
 "Tho you've brought the dog, Dobbth?" 
 
 "Yes, here he is! Not much to look at, perhaps, but 
 — well, here he is." 
 
 Upottery looked him over, opened the window, and pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 "I thuppothe thith ith the dog? I don't make any refiec- 
 thionth, but I have to be careful in the interetht of my late 
 client." 
 
 Hawk began to bluster. 
 
 "Look here, sir, do you imagine Mr. Dobbs would foist 
 a strange dog on you, or that I would be party to such a 
 proceeding, what?" 
 
 "Orr me?" demanded the Colonel in a rich, deep, respect- 
 able voice. 
 
 "You both identify it, then?" asked the lawyer, who had 
 edged away from the poor creature and now toyed with a 
 scented handkerchief. 
 
 "I've known thot pup, sorr," said the Colonel impressively, 
 "since I sold it to the party from whom Mr. Dobbs got um. 
 'Tis a fine spicimin intirely av a very rare breed, an' more- 
 over " 
 
 "Well, ath you thay itth all thquare and above-board, 
 we may ath well protheed to bithineth. Jutht one moment," 
 said Upottery, as he sailed in a swanlike way to the door 
 and went into his own office. 
 
 "Bully for yez, me son," whispered the Colonel, as he 
 smote me on the back with one of his barn-door hands. 
 "Didn't I tell yez I'd pull ye through?" 
 
 The deputy Demon wuffied sadly, and eagerly followed 
 something along his tail to the end and then gave up the 
 chase, shut his watery eye, and uttered a dismal croak. He 
 
178 MY DOG AND I 
 
 was a depressing pup, like some bird of ill-omen, and I felt 
 that there was yet trouble in store for me before I left that 
 office. My forebodings were right. 
 
 The door of Upottery's office opened, and he entered, 
 followed by a lady in black — a young lady. Could it be? 
 It was — Pectoral 
 
 Pectora, rendered more delightful to look upon than ever 
 by an admirably-fitting black dress; Pectora, with the eyes 
 that looked one over and dropped one out of the window with- 
 out her saying a word; Pectora, who had turned up just in 
 time to complete the muddle the Colonel's bear had started. 
 
 She nodded to me in a friendly way, for under her curious 
 delight in making me the victim of practical jokes, I believe 
 she had no feeling against me, and I was glad to gather from 
 her unexpectedly amicable smile that she evidently acquitted 
 me of any part in the unfortunate end of poor old Uncle, 
 her adopted father. 
 
 Hawk wilted under her searching glance, and the Colonel's 
 fat face, which wreathed in smiles had beamed upon her, 
 froze into an expression at her stony stare akin to that of 
 the sacred buffalo when cod-liver-oiled. 
 
 "Well, Mith Bothcobel, you thee the wanderer hath re- 
 turned," said Utoppery in bland tones. 
 
 "So I observe," said Pectora, who looked at the Demon's 
 understudy with growing surprise. 
 
 "And he'th brought the puppy ath required," continued 
 the lawyer, who had edged towards the window again. 
 
 "But that isn't the puppy!" exclaimed Pectora. "The 
 puppy poor father meant was a nice little black, curly-wurly 
 
 fellow, whilst this poor thing Why, Arthur, you don't 
 
 mean to tell me your dog is dead?" 
 
 "Not dead, but — er — sleeping," I repKed at random, 
 for at the moment my mind had been dwelling on, of all 
 inappropriate things, the coffins which Hawk had painted 
 inside the caravan. 
 
 The situation had rapidly grown too much for me. The 
 only comfort I obtained was seeing how she looked at Hawk. 
 
MY DOG AND I 179 
 
 "Ithn't thith the dog, then?" queried Upottery from the 
 window. 
 
 "Certainly not," declared Pectora. "I believe he's lost 
 it, and that ridiculous little man there" (she scornfully 
 indicated Hawk, who tried to hide behind the Colonel) '^who 
 passes for a doctor has induced him to rashly substitute 
 this unhappy animal." 
 
 "Immphm," said Upottery, and we all looked at the dog 
 as though it were all his fault. 
 
 During the pause I heard the Colonel whisper to Hawk, 
 
 "This is a family affair, son; we'd better quit," after which 
 he rose, gave Pectora a dignified bow, swept his hat at the 
 lawyer, and taking the dazed Hawk by the arm led him softly 
 away. 
 
 "And now, Arthur," said Pectora, as she gently put the 
 hound outside, to Upottery's obvious relief, "don't you 
 think you might explain?" 
 
 I did as briefly as I could. I pointed out that my inten- 
 tions had been good, and that if any harm had come of them 
 she was in the main responsible, for she had planted on me 
 the pup which started the trouble. 
 
 I touched lightly on the ways of Hawk, only according 
 him blame where he deserved it, and urged that I would long 
 ago have returned to Middewick had not our departure 
 been so calamitous and, to state it mildly, gladiatorial. 
 
 She found it difficult not to smile at some of the incidents 
 I movingly related, particularly the jungle episode, and then 
 told me how things had fallen out after I had gone. 
 
 Uncle, when he reached the hospital, had been recognized 
 by the house surgeon, and his complexion quickly yielded 
 to treatment, so that he got home again none the worse, just 
 after Pectora had returned to prepare the spare room for 
 the epileptic Doctor Gesoogenheimer, nee Hawk; and the 
 old gentleman was so pleased to regain his ordinary red 
 shot with purple physiognomy, he inclined to treat the whole 
 matter as a huge joke, and actually toddled down to ask 
 us both up to dinner. 
 
i8o MY DOG AND I 
 
 When he found the house locked up, he drew the conclu- 
 ion that I had bolted to avoid his anger, and this flattered 
 him. The next day he met Harker, and learned from him 
 the details of our flight and the reason why Harker had re- 
 tired from the force and taken to gardening, owing to shock 
 from an encounter with a madman, a jest which kept him 
 on the chuckle for days. Harker he soothed with a five- 
 pound note, and the injured Gibble, who crossed his path 
 a little while after and lamented greatly, he talked to to 
 such purpose that Gibble had given up poaching from that 
 day. (Uncle was a magistrate.) 
 
 My continued absence did not alarm him, but rather 
 added to his flattered feeling that I trembled at his dis- 
 pleasure; and the fact that I had taken the Demon with 
 me showed him I had obeyed his injunction never to part 
 with the dog. 
 
 His will, however, from my point of view, showed too 
 keen a sense of humor. What if the Demon never returned? 
 ''And do you mean to say, Pectora, that there was no 
 reason why I should not have come back weeks ago?" 
 
 "None whatever, Arthur; father would have been pleased 
 to see you." 
 
 I felt at this news something like a chameleon put on a 
 piece of Scotch plaid, explosive; but I was saved the necessity 
 of translating what I wanted to say about it into polite Eng- 
 lish by the clatter of feet in the next office and 
 by the crash of the door as it banged open. 
 
 The massive back of the Colonel appeared, 
 bent bow-shaped, and obviously the good 
 Chugg was pulling some reluctant thing along. 
 He and it, or rather they, wedged in the 
 doorway a moment, and then shot into the 
 room like a cork from a champagne bottle. 
 ^ ^^^* In one enormous hand the Colonel dragged 
 
 and shook by the collar an undersized Italian, who gesticu- 
 lated tearfully; with the other he hauled in a subdued and 
 weary bear. 
 
MY DOG AND I i8i 
 
 Upottery pushed the window farther open and stood 
 transfixed. 
 
 ''Say," snorted the Colonel, as he tightened his grip on his 
 captives and faced us, ''say, we was walkin' forninst the back 
 av Covent Garden, whin Misther Hawk sighted Rastus an' 
 this blessed dago, what had the owdacity to skip wid me 
 wolf princess. She was wid um too, but bolted, but not before 
 Hawk had gotten a grip on the dog, an' I grabbed Rastus an' 
 this spalpeen, an' didn't I say I niver disappoint the pooblic? " 
 he roared triumphantly, as Hawk appeared with the Demon 
 in his arms. 
 
 The Demon sighted Pectora, gave a squirm out of Hawk's 
 arms, and joyfully dived at her with happy yelps as though 
 she were his long-lost aunt. 
 
 Hawk struck an attitude, but everybody was too busy 
 to notice him, as all our attention was needed to prevent 
 the wrathful Colonel killing the Italian there and then, and 
 in avoiding the loving arms of the bear. 
 
 "This is the dog at last," said Pectora, "and to prevent 
 any further accidents I think I'll keep him with me for a 
 little while. In the meantime Mr. Upottery will no doubt 
 arrange matters with you, Arthur, and then you might call 
 on me at my hotel." 
 
 "Yeth," agreed Upottery, as he opened the door for her; 
 "and if the Colonel will be tho good ath to take hith chargeth 
 outthide, we will thoon thettle the buthineth." 
 
 At last I was on the verge of coming into my own. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 In which the legacy is saved, and I determine to retire from the strenuous life. 
 A farewell lunch to Hawk and the Colonel, and a visit to a matinee music- 
 hall, where an illusionist is tied up, and Hawk is undone. The strategy 
 of Chugg outwits a would-be bride. A good-by supper. Hawk evades 
 matrimony by joining forces with the Colonel, and I return to Midde- 
 wick. 
 
 In spite of his lisp, Upottery was most business-like, and had 
 obtained my signature to several documents, handed me some 
 bank-notes, sent the ofiice boy for a bottle of disinfectant to 
 remove the lingering fragrance of the bear and the Demon's 
 terrible understudy (who, by the way, had completely van- 
 ished), shaken hands twice, and bowed me out, all inside ten 
 minutes. 
 
 I perceived the Colonel and Hawk, flanked by the bear and 
 the Italian, on the opposite side of the road, waiting for me; 
 and as they had an interested crowd round them, and I had 
 no desire to be lectured on in public — for the Colonel would 
 be sure to improve the occasion — I bribed a boy to take a 
 hurried note to Hawk, in which I asked him to meet me in 
 two hours' time, and suggested he should employ the interim 
 in stabling the bear, turning off the dago, and looking up the 
 Equine Marvel. 
 
 Then I hurried to Pectora's hotel. She, with the Demon, 
 who was illuminated with a pink ribbon, for a wonder received 
 me most graciously, and in course of conversation seemed to 
 expect that I would return to Middewick that very day and 
 commence the Hfe of a country gentleman. 
 
 But I had yet to deal with Hawk and Chugg. I felt I 
 owed them something, for if Hawk had not informed me of 
 the legacy I should still be a wanderer on the face of a 
 menagerie, and if the Colonel had failed to find the Demon 
 my predicament would have been nearly as bad, and I pre- 
 ferred to arrange the matter in London rather than bring 
 
 182 
 
MY DOG AND I 183 
 
 them down to Middewick, and very likely have them paint 
 the place red in their exuberance. Moreover, I knew Hawk 
 to be a good ''Welcome the coming," but a precious bad 
 ''Speed the parting" kind of guest, and I had my doubts 
 whether the Colonel might not insist on bringing the show 
 with him. 
 
 So I excused myself, and promised to come down on the 
 morrow, "as," I said, "I have one or two little things to settle 
 first." 
 
 Pectora said she didn't know how I could call the Colonel 
 little, but she quite understood. 
 
 My next move took me to a tailor's, and shortly afterwards, 
 clothed in more Christian style than the Colonel's chessboard 
 choice, I met that worthy and Hawk, both of whom wore 
 smiles and big cigars. 
 
 "We've soused th' dago in Trafalgar Square fountain, an' 
 stabled the bear, an' seen to th' Equine, son," said the 
 Colonel as we descended upon a restaurant, "an' now we'll 
 fade th' animals." 
 
 That was a memorable repast. Hawk was no mean 
 trencherman, but the Colonel must have been in his many- 
 sided show past a human ostrich. 
 
 Waiters, awed by the sight, left their customers unattended 
 to devote their whole time to watching him. The manager 
 took one glance at the pile of empty plates, then hurried to 
 the telephone to ring up the wholesale suppliers for more 
 grub. When Chugg had finished three waiters had broken 
 down and the others leaned on each other for support. 
 
 Between them, he and Hawk spent about twenty million 
 pounds of my income whilst we lunched. Hawk's idea was a 
 kind of perpetual "fling," with motor-cars and aeroplanes 
 and a steam yacht as side issues; and the Colonel dreamily 
 outHned, when his mouth was not too full, a sort of mammoth 
 show which had the purchase of the Zoo as a nucleus, and 
 finished up with the Albert Hall as a permanent place for it 
 with Olympia as general ofiices. He babbled, too, about an 
 elephant he knew of to be bought as a bargain. 
 
i84 MY DOG AND I 
 
 To take their minds off filthy lucre until I decided what and 
 how much to offer them to leave me to lead the simple life 
 instead of their cyclonic one, I suggested a look in at a 
 matinte, and they both agreed. 
 
 And thus came about Hawk's undoing. We were seated 
 in the stalls of the CoHdrome, and the Colonel waxed loud on 
 many stage secrets, much to the annoyance of everybody 
 within hearing of his fog-horn voice. 
 
 I suppose it was professional rivalry, but he continually 
 decried each turn; and when the number of Signor Presto- 
 vitch, the World's Stupendous Illusionist, went 
 up, I was deluged with a ''how it's done" dis- 
 sertation from both Hawk and Chugg, for 
 Hawk enjoyed a good grumble almost as much 
 as a five-course dinner. 
 
 "These illusionists are fakes, thot's what they 
 
 are, public humbugs," snorted the Colonel in- 
 
 ignor. ^[g^2J[it\y. ''They tell the people anythin' to 
 
 get 'em to watch their games. Why, if I'd discinded to such 
 
 hypocrisy, I'd niver look me sowl in the face again." 
 
 I mused on the birds of paradise and the jungle demon- 
 strations, but held my peace, for the Signor had come forward 
 to the footlights, after banging a large trunk to show it was 
 empty, and informed the audience in a pained voice that he 
 would get into it, allow anyone to rope and seal it up, and 
 then "in the callery mit a peautiful punch of vlowers in each 
 other of his hands appear." 
 
 He added that if any lady or gentleman cared to come on 
 the stage and satisfy themselves there was no trickery, he 
 would be very glad. 
 
 Hawk and the Colonel, full of skepticism and food, arose 
 like one man and forced their way to the stage, as did also 
 a large, fat woman and a hulking man of pugilistic aspect. 
 
 Directly they all reached him, the Signor wedged himself 
 into the trunk, and Hawk and the Colonel fell upon the lid 
 and brought it down with such a crash the Signer's head must 
 have been crushed to pulp had he not been legs uppermost. 
 
MY DOG AND I 185 
 
 Then, as guardians of the public's right not to be gulled, 
 they roped that trunk and the Signor up with a bewildering 
 collection of knots. I heard Chugg gleefully say he had 
 stopped up the air-holes in it, and Hawk, to assure the Signor 
 there was no trickery about it, rapidly turned it bottom 
 upwards and jumped on it. 
 
 Certainly they made a job of it. They were too busy to 
 notice the woman and man who also watched the proceed- 
 ings, but kept their eyes glued to the trunk whilst the or- 
 chestra played two waltzes, a selection, and a march. I 
 firmly believe if the Signor had dared to make a move inside 
 they would have thrown the trunk into the orchestra; they 
 looked awfully stern. 
 
 Ten minutes went by; the Signor had not yet appeared. 
 The band eyed the conductor wistfully, and began another 
 waltz with aching arms. Still no sign of the Signor, either 
 in the gallery or anywhere else; and considering the way 
 Hawk had shaken the poor chap up, I expected he was dead; 
 but although he did not appear, the manager did. He 
 rushed on the stage, shouted some unintelligible words to 
 the audience, pointed to the box, then at the curtain, and 
 caught the latter on the back of his neck as it descended, 
 and then pitched headfirst on to the bosom of the conductor, 
 who collapsed into the first violins. 
 
 The manager seemed an energetic person. 
 
 At this point I left the hall and hurried round to the stage 
 entrance. I concluded, as the curtain barred their return to 
 the auditorium, my friends would leave by that door, unless 
 they were detained for the manslaughter of the Signor, nor 
 was I wrong, but I hardly expected the sight I saw on round- 
 ing the corner. 
 
 From a doorway, under a lamp marked "Artistes Only," 
 emerged a very ruffled Hawk propelled by the pugilistic 
 gentleman, who had a firm grip on his collar. Next came the 
 stout woman in hysterics, and behind her the Colonel, hatless 
 and flustered. Behind the Colonel came a boot attached to 
 a uniformed leg, and over the heads of all flew several 
 
i86 MY DOG AND I 
 
 bouquets of paper flowers, thrown by someone out of 
 sight. 
 
 Hawk's captor turned sharp to the left, and drove his 
 quarry before him, and I fell in by the Colonel with an open 
 and inquiring mind to learn the why and wherefore of 
 it all. 
 
 " 'Twas this way," panted the Colonel as we scurried along 
 in the wake of the fat lady. ''No sooner had the curtain 
 discinded than some stage hands unroped the Signor, and 
 your frind started in to tell um pwhat we thought av him. 
 Harrdly had he opened his mouth whin the female party 
 who ye saw on th' stage gives a scrame an' shouts, ' It is — ^it 
 is me darlint!' an' throws her arrums around Hawk's neck. 
 'Jumpin' Moses!' he yells, 'it's me landlady again!' an' 
 struggles like a drownded man. 'Alars!' ses Mrs. Landlady, 
 ' thot I sh'd have bin desaved by the wan I loved so. Naughty 
 boy to run away from its own Httle pigeon,' ses she, 'an' us 
 to be marrid shortly,' she ses. Thin the scrapper feller 
 chimes in thot he's her sister — I mane she's his brother — 
 bust it, ye know what I mane — ^an' he's not goin' to have his 
 Httle Sally's feelin's thrifled wid by annywan; an' betune 
 'em they put the comethere on thot poor lad, an' if some- 
 thin' isn't done in a hurry, she'll marry him before he comes 
 to his sinses agin." 
 
 "Where are they going?" I asked. 
 
 "Goin' to take um home to discuss the situation. Ye'll 
 not desert a frind in throuble, I hope," said the Colonel 
 
 wistfully. "Look at the face av her — 'twould 
 
 move a stone to pity." 
 
 "No, I won't desert him. I suppose they can 
 
 be bought off?" 
 
 "Bought off, is it? Sure, but I've a better 
 
 plan than that. Lave it to me, an' don't 
 
 , , worry," he whispered as a bright idea struck 
 Her brother. ,. "^ 
 him. 
 
 We had reached a turning off Tottenham Court Road, and 
 
 with one hand still clasped on Hawk's collar, the forlorn 
 
MY DOG AND I 187 
 
 lady's brother produced a key and opened the door of a house 
 labelled ''Gentlemen taken in." Once inside, he strode down- 
 stairs to the basement, towing Hawk after him, and we de- 
 scended also. 
 
 ''And now," he growled, as he threw Hawk on the sofa, 
 "what are you goin' to do about it?" 
 
 Hawk looked blankly at us; for once he was non-plussed. 
 Silence reigned for a minute, broken only by the sobs of the 
 landlady, who murmured, "He used to call me his Httle 
 pigeon — his httle Pidgy Widgy, he did." 
 
 Then the Colonel, in his most grandiose manner, walked 
 over to the brother and shook hands with him. 
 
 "Sorr," said the Colonel, "'tis glad I am to mate ye 
 entirely, and to be prisint on such an occasion to put matters 
 right. Allow me to offer ye a ceegyar! To think thot iny 
 frind av mine should run away from such loveliness!" he 
 went on; "but niver will I see a lady desarted. So we'll make 
 um kape his wurrd before he laves this house. Pwhat is the 
 price av a spicial license, sorr?" he asked the brother, and 
 rattled some coins in his pocket. 
 
 Hawk suddenly sat upright on the sofa as if it had kicked 
 him, and "What?" he yelled. 
 
 The Colonel, under cover of an enormous hand, ostensibly 
 raised to hide his emotion at Hawk's falsity, caught that 
 disturbed individual's eye, put his tongue in his cheek, and 
 winked not once but many times. 
 
 "I think," then resumed the Colonel, "if ye are all agree- 
 able, 'twill be best to get the business settled an' the Georgian 
 knot tied as soon as we can. So as 'tis too late to get a hcense 
 to-night, we'll have wan first thing in the marnin'. Do yez 
 agree, Misther Hawk?" 
 
 Hawk knew his Colonel, and played up. 
 
 "Yes — yes. I only endeavored to elude her because — er — 
 I did not feel worthy." 
 
 "Her?" asked the landlady coyly. "Say your httle 
 Pidgy Widgy, love." 
 
 "Piggy Wiggy," snapped Hawk. 
 
i88 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "So thot's settled," said the Colonel breezily, "an' the 
 nixt thing is to dhrink the hilth av the bride to be. If the 
 lady won't mind fetchin' a bottle av the cratur an' a siphon," 
 he said, and produced a sovereign, "her brother an' us will 
 guard the blushin' bridegroom." 
 
 To judge from her complexion, the landlady would need 
 no pressing to go on such an errand, nor did she, but tripped 
 off gleefully to obtain the nectar, after she had bestowed a 
 kiss on the shuddering Hawk. 
 
 "I'll lock the door afther her," said the Colonel in a know- 
 ing way to her brother, at which the latter chuckled. 
 
 He had not expected things to be so easy. These put-up 
 games often went a-gley. Put up it was, for though I credited 
 Hawk with much idiocy, one glance at the lady was in this 
 case enough to prove his innocence. 
 
 The admirable Chugg locked the door, pocketed the key, 
 took his coat off, and rolled his shirt-sleeves up. 
 
 "Hullo! what's that for?" demanded the brother un- 
 easily. 
 
 "Ye'U see," replied the Colonel darkly as he strode across 
 the room. "D'ye think I've niver met a duck like yez 
 before, ye putty-faced swab from a third-rate pug' booth, 
 wid no more fight in yez wid a man av ye're own size than a 
 fish-eyed, flat-footed galoot av a deginerate dago? D'ye 
 think ye can play the crook game on me, whin I've been in 
 the show line all these years, you pop-eyed jay? Fancy I 
 don't know what to do wid a old hobo Hke you, huh?" 
 
 "Here," said the brother, rising, "that's enough! What's 
 your game, old man?" 
 
 "This, me pink-eyed jool," replied the Colonel, and 
 lovingly wrapped himself round that landlady's relative and 
 bore him to the floor, where Hawk joined the fray, and in 
 two minutes they had the fellow trussed up in the hearth-rug 
 and gagged with one of his own boots, and unceremoniously 
 shot him under the sofa. 
 
 "Open the door," said the Colonel, as he resumed his coat 
 and threw me the key; "I'll go an' reconnoiter." 
 
MY DOG AND I 189 
 
 From the basement window we could see him lounge on 
 the front door steps as though he were simply taking the 
 air, and in a short time the landlady turned the corner. 
 
 "Ah, me dear madam," came the courtly voice of Chugg, 
 "allow me to relave you av ye're burdens. Ochone! I've 
 drapped 'em! Now there's a clumsy feller for ye!" he said, 
 as he kicked the broken bottles into the street. "But niver 
 mind, it's soon mindid. Ye'll not object to fetchin' a dhrop 
 more? I'd come wid ye," he added gallantly, " but I promised 
 yer brother to stop here. Ye see, we must kape an eye 
 on the bridegroom; his happiness has made him quite 
 nervous." 
 
 The landlady, though she thriftily deplored the breakage, 
 had no objection to fetching many more bottles, and im- 
 mediately she was gone the Colonel clattered downstairs. 
 
 "It's us for the woods!" he shouted. "Come on wid yez." 
 
 We came at the charge, and got out of that house, on a bus, 
 and across Oxford Circus before the Colonel had time to get 
 his breath again. 
 
 Hawk sat silent and saddened. 
 
 "It was well meant," he said, "but they'll find me again. 
 Bang goes my Hterary career! I daren't even let my name 
 appear on a book cover again, or she'd storm the publishers 
 until they surrendered my address. Mark my words, Dobbs, 
 that awful woman will track me down yet." 
 
 "Niver, if ye follow me advice," chortled the Colonel. 
 "Durbar's skin is waitin' for yez; an' if ye'd buy an intrist 
 in the show, wid your talints an' me own invintiveness we'd 
 make a fortune." 
 
 Here was an opening for me I had little expected. If I 
 bought Hawk a share in the show, I should help him to lie 
 low, please the Colonel, and be relieved of both of them. So 
 I enthused. 
 
 "Just the thing! Let's have some supper and talk it over." 
 
 The Colonel nearly fell off the bus in his anxiety to ac- 
 cept my invitation to another feast, and w^hilst he again 
 astonished the waiters we arranged details. 
 
IQO 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 I agreed to finance Hawk so he could take a half share 
 
 in the business, and then, as the Colonel hankered after an 
 
 elephant (''Gimme a Jumbo 
 
 and a pail av whitewash, an' 
 
 I'll mint dollars md the Sacred 
 
 White Elephant from Siam; 
 
 an' that'll allow me to use the 
 
 cow, which is at prisint a sacred 
 
 buffalo, as the last of the 
 
 Amurican bisons"), I lent them 
 
 a further hundred, making a 
 
 hundred and fifty in all, and 
 
 they on their side promised 
 
 me cent, per cent, directly 
 
 the profits of their first season 
 Jumho and a paU of whitewash. ^^^^ .^. ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^,^ 
 
 yet sent more than one postal order for two-and-threepence, 
 I conclude the elephant did not take the whitewash well. 
 
 After many toasts, which made the Colonel so brimful of 
 kindness he insisted on kissing all the waiters, we parted. 
 
 Hawk made a little speech to the effect that he'd always 
 said I was the hiccupest chap he'd ever hiccuped, and he 
 hoped in the fullness of time to hiccup my generosity. The 
 Colonel grasped both my hands, and brokenly remarked that 
 wheniver he saw an orang-utan 
 he would think av me; and added 
 in a dreamy, far-away voice that 
 I'd better walk up right now, as 
 the Jungle Demonstrations were^ 
 about to commence. He then 
 glared at the waiters, and asked 
 them what they had stolen his 
 incubator for, and burst into 
 tears. It was a noble supper. 
 
 The last I saw of them was 
 when, with an arm round each other's neck, they entered a 
 cab, and hanging their legs out of the side windows, grad- 
 
 Au revoir. 
 
MY DOG AND I 191 
 
 ually drove into the distance, whilst their raucous voices 
 chanted "Good-bye for Ever" to a strange tune all their 
 own. 
 
 With a huge sigh of relief, I drove to Waterloo and en- 
 trained for Middewick. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Brings this history to a close. Home again. Uncle^s collections. The 
 Turkish bath precipitates a proposal, and the dog completes it. The 
 lawyer and the Italians. A best ma}i difficulty. A marriage and a 
 wedding breakfast, which caused the end of the dog. 
 
 I HAD been in Middewick nearly three weeks before it struck 
 me that I had developed a habit of dropping in at Pectoral 
 Villa for meals. 
 
 It began with the Demon, as did most things. Since his 
 return he had scorned my humble abode — possibly because 
 most of the windows w^ere broken owing to a rumor that it 
 was haunted, hence small boys spent many delightfully 
 creepy hours throwing stones "to kill that there ghost of 
 Dobbs's " — and taken up his quarters with Pectora, who, now 
 her father w^as no more, reigned supreme at the villa. 
 
 Of course, it was necessary for me to keep in daily touch 
 with the pup, to see he didn't over-eat or otherwise imperil 
 my future; so I would drop in to breakfast, or lunch, or both, 
 and stay to tea, and then it seemed a pity to go before dinner. 
 
 Pectora and I were largely engaged in arranging the enor- 
 mous accumulation of things the late excellent old gentleman 
 had gathered together. There were collections of mouse- 
 traps, walking-sticks, picture postcards, cigar bands, opposi- 
 tion cough-drops, testimonials from cured coughers, and 
 letters from relatives of the people Pectoral Pellets had not 
 suited, memorial cards, and a really fine library of miscella- 
 neous books which ranged from a lot of Dickens to a dickens 
 of a lot of French novels. 
 
 With the prospects I had in view I had given up the farce 
 of work, and buoyed up by Pectora's less stand-offish manner, 
 only awaited an opportunity to ask her to change her name 
 to my own. The awkward part was to know when and how 
 to make the request. 
 
 192 
 
MY DOG AND I 193 
 
 You had to be careful with Pectora, as she had a cynical 
 strain of humor in her which was to be deprecated in a girl of 
 her age. 
 
 I would gradually work up to the subject by way of votes 
 for women and the latest musical comedy, and then, just 
 at the crucial moment, in would shamble the Demon and get 
 mixed up with my legs, or perhaps bring in a dead rat to 
 cheer us up. 
 
 But I determined to persevere. All my other troubles had 
 slipped from me. Hawk was a thing of the past, and worried 
 me not. His tigerskin would suflSce him till the coast was 
 clear for him to harrow once more the souls of gentle errand 
 boys with curdlers which w^ould curdle more bloodthirstily 
 than ever, by reason of his familiarity with man-eaters and 
 the Demon. Gibble had packed up his live stock and ancient 
 mother, and shaken the dust of Middewick from his number 
 twelve boots. Harker, now a prematurely aged man, thanks 
 to the ministrations of Hawk, had forgotten everything prior 
 to his fateful railw^ay journey, and devoted his time to stuffing 
 the deceased pets of old ladies out of all resemblance to the 
 pets in life. He was pleased in a chastened way when I 
 looked in on him, and would shake his head wonderingly 
 over his new profession. 
 
 "The works of Nature is very rum, Mr. Dobbs," he used 
 to say. "I takes a dead canary and stuffs it, an' blowed if it 
 don't look more like a orange when I've done." 
 
 I saw some of his specimens and fully agreed with him. 
 
 There came a day when, having neatly packed Uncle's 
 varied treasures in a boxroom, we took a walk over the house. 
 As we ascended, from the staircase window I could see the 
 Demon on the lawn. He munched the garden hose, and had 
 already masticated a fair length of it, but the brass nozzle 
 appeared to worry him. 
 
 "This room," said Pectora, as she opened a door, "was 
 poor father's favorite. He would never allow anyone to 
 touch it, and it has not been interfered with since he died." 
 
 "Which, I suppose, accounts for all that litter in the 
 
194 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 corner," I said, as I pointed to a mass of planks, partly 
 charred, which lay in careless abandon against a boot cup- 
 board. 
 
 Pectora smiled. 
 
 "Surely you recognize your great effort, Arthur? Why, 
 I can still see you staggering under its weight." 
 
 "It's not " I stammered. 
 
 To be brought face to face with one of the great causes of 
 my recent sorrows was rather a shock. 
 
 "Oh, yes it is! The invention of the age — The Home 
 Blacking Box." She laughed mischievously. "I wonder, 
 had you continued to invent things, if you would have 
 eclipsed so effective an apparatus?" 
 
 "Do you know," I said sternly, "T believe you gave poor 
 Uncle that copal varnish on purpose, so as to make him think 
 the bath was at fault." 
 
 She gracefully ignored this home thrust. 
 
 "Poor dad! And just after he had fallen into a booby trap 
 I meant for you." 
 
 Here was my chance to get that proposal business forward. 
 
 "And why should you make booby traps for poor me?" 
 I asked as archly as I could when my back collar stud had 
 that moment slipped out, and was wriggling down my spine. 
 Things like that always happened to me when I was on the 
 verge of anything serious. 
 
 "Because you always seemed such a ridiculous creature," 
 she answered kindly. "I've often thought you need someone 
 to look after you." 
 
 "Then will you " I began, and as I spoke that awful 
 
 pup flew into the room and canoned in a most ungentlemanly 
 way into Pectora, whom he jolted into my arms. 
 
 "I do really think," said Pectora, as she lay on my shoulder, 
 "that dog is as awkward and ridiculous as its master." 
 We both looked fondly at the Demon in his new role of 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 195 
 
 ''Honk, honk!" 
 
 Cupid, and he immediately took the occasion as favorable 
 to a terrible fit of coughing. 
 
 This took our minds off newly-engaged bliss, and caused 
 us to rush to the rescue. The Demon 
 may have been intrinsically valueless, but 
 he represented to me a cool five thou- 
 sand pounds and an income for life, and 
 I therefore had no wish to see him asleep 
 under a marble visiting card. 
 
 Pectora ran for something to ease his 
 agony. (She meant well, but when she 
 did return she only brought a screw- 
 driver, which wouldn't have helped much), and I, with my 
 collar still restive, and the stud now in the neighborhood of 
 my left leg, hovered anxiously round him, listening in dis- 
 tress to his "Honk, honk, horrrk!" 
 
 Suddenly he gave a perfectly awful hiccough and rolled on 
 to his back, where he continued to make uncomfortable 
 noises. 
 
 "This is the end," I thought grimly. "Farewell, my 
 canine friend, to you and to my 
 hopes. Just my luck, and I don't 
 know how to soothe your last mo- 
 ments, old chap, one little bit." 
 
 "Whoop! Horrk! Whoop! Hic- 
 cough!" shouted the Demon, and 
 shot up in the air. 
 
 "Poor old man!" I went on, as I 
 w^atched his contortions. "I'd do all 
 I could if I knew what to do, but I'm 
 afraid you'll have to rely on your 
 own exertions, owing to my lack of 
 veterinary knowledge." 
 Almost as though he knew if anyone were to help him it 
 must be himself, he gave a final tremendous cough and pro- 
 duced, like a conjuror, the brass nozzle of the garden hose 
 and two yards of india-rubber tubing. 
 
 Pectora brought a 
 screw-driver. 
 
196 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 This done, he got up, shook himself, made a playful dash 
 at my legs, and trotted off comfortably. Two nrinutes later 
 my fiancee returned with the screw-driver. 
 
 Pectora and I decided to wait until the probationary six 
 months were up and all financial details settled before we 
 became one, and devoted the intervening time to a zealous 
 watch over the Demon which sorely got on his nerves. 
 
 What the Demon primarily liked to do was to eat whatever 
 and whenever he fancied, and as his tastes ran to the most 
 indigestible things he could find, he was always on the brink 
 of suffocation, or going mad with the collywobbles. As 
 Pectora said, a dog can't expect to eat the works of a phono- 
 graph without a record of suffering. 
 
 We curbed this enthusiastic appetite with a muzzle, but 
 it had to be taken off at meals, and his angelic stillness whilst 
 this was done he balanced by a quivering agitation when 
 we tried to put it on again. 
 
 Even when muzzled he was a handful — two handfuls. 
 He had a way of plowing up the ground with that muzzle 
 in his efforts to get it off which 
 necessitated an extra gardener 
 being taken on to repair the 
 flower beds, and a permanent lad 
 to wash him — the Demon, not the 
 gardener — daily. 
 
 Then, too, as the great day on 
 which he must be produced ap- 
 proached, he would disappear for 
 a day at a time. The boys of the 
 village near by looked on him as a ' 
 certain source of income. 
 
 "I seen that dorg of yours, 
 Mr. Dobbs. Heow much if I 
 catch un?" 
 
 I firmly believe the little beg- 
 gars used to lie in wait and pounce on the Demon as he rootled 
 up the shrubbery, keep him awhile, and bring him back with 
 
 The boys looked on him as 
 a certain income. 
 
MY DOG AND I 197 
 
 some cock and bull yarn that they had found him six miles 
 away. You never know to what depths a country youth 
 will descend for pocket money. 
 
 Despite all this, we did manage to keep him whole until 
 the six months were up, and although he did his best to 
 dodge out of the cab window as we crossed Waterloo Bridge, 
 we got him to Upottery's with no further damage than a 
 bitten thumb — my thumb. 
 
 Upottery looked depressed. He was polite but misan- 
 thropic, and when we had concluded the business side of 
 our business I asked him where the pain was. 
 
 He said it began from the day the Colonel had brought 
 the Italian purloiner of his bear into his ofhce. Antonio 
 and his tribe somehow came to the conclusion that Upottery 
 was at the bottom of the business, and acted accordingly. 
 Never a day passed without a parcel with a dead monkey 
 or some other dainty in it reaching the poor solicitor, and 
 he was nearly driven mad by piano organs following him 
 about. As for anonymous letters, with nice cheerful draw- 
 ings of daggers and tombstones done in red ink, he received 
 shoals. That very day he had tripped over an aged accordion 
 dropped in his path by a countryman of the original southern 
 bear catcher. 
 
 ''But never mind," he said with a weary smile, at leatht 
 your troubleth are over." 
 
 ''So long as he behaves himself," qualified Pectora. 
 
 There was no reason why we should delay our marriage 
 any longer. The conventions of Middewick were elastic, 
 and we did not have anyone but ourselves to study; so it 
 was not long before the local curate might be heard, on three 
 consecutive Sundays, read our joint names in a feeble bleat 
 before he turned with more enthusiasm to the notices about 
 the Dorcas Society and the Mothers' Meeting. 
 
 There were few presents. The workpeople at the pellet 
 factory gave us a silver-mounted model of a bottle of Pectoral 
 Pellets, that was more valuable for the spirit in which it was 
 given than for its use. 
 
igS 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 Upottery sent a set of engravings of the Italian lakes, 
 and Hawk, who had heard of the coming event, forwarded 
 an autographed copy of the fourpenny-halfpenny edition 
 of his great work, Detective Dashifs Daring, and a dog whip. 
 Pectora looked at the latter and said he was a horrid little 
 man; but I never look a gift horse in the mouth, and it came 
 in splendidly to coax the Demon with. 
 
 The Colonel wrote a benignant, fatherly letter of advice, 
 and promised a present later. His epistle was flamboyantly 
 headed, ''The Amalgamated Menagerie Aggregations Lim- 
 ited; P. K. Chugg, Col. U. S. A., President," and after calling 
 down blessings on my nuptial union, earnestly commended 
 the idea of a private Zoo to my notice. 
 
 My wedding-day will be ever memorable. To begin with, 
 I had mislaid my cuff-links, and when I had found them 
 
 I also found that my new white 
 tie had fallen into the bath. My 
 coat fitted about as comfortably 
 as Obadiah's skin had done, and 
 was a bit tighter under the arms 
 if anything. 
 
 I was full of unrest. I had my 
 doubts about the best man. I 
 had few friends in Middewick, 
 I for the young men on attaining 
 years of indiscretion fled to 
 more wideawake towns. In 
 despair I had even telegraphed 
 to Hawk. He had replied, 
 ''Sorry. Too risky. Ware 
 pigeons." Upottery was booked to give Pectora away, so 
 I was thrown back on the Colonel. 
 
 He responded gladly that he never deserted a frind in 
 throuble, and would meet me at the church gate. It was 
 either him or old Mr. Dilwattle, the retired postmaster, 
 who owned to seventy and looked a hundred, and had soften- 
 ing of the brain coming on, and his false teeth always coming 
 
 The wedding morn. 
 
MY DOG AND I 
 
 199 
 
 out, besides being deaf and lame, and though I doubted how 
 the Colonel would strike the clergyman, I looked on him as 
 the lesser of two evils. 
 
 But what would happen if he did not turn up? I had 
 never been married before, and I didn't know if the ceremon}'- 
 might be legal without a best man. My only ray of hope 
 was the Colonel's famous hobby of not disappointing the 
 public; but the thing got on my nerves. 
 
 I made myself a bachelor breakfast for the last time, but 
 I was so agitated that the coffee got into the eggs and bacon, 
 I dropped the butter, accidentally trod on it, slipped, and 
 skied the whole meal. To this day a solitary rasher adheres 
 to the ceiling of that ancient house. 
 
 It was to be a quiet wedding. We had invited no relatives 
 for the excellent reason that w^e had none, and Middewick 
 people in general were a deal too Rip Van Winklish to turn 
 out of their arm-chairs just to see a 
 wedding. 
 
 Somehow I managed to get into my 
 bridal costume, correct down to the 
 infernally tight patent leather boots; 
 and I registered a vow that whenever 
 I got married again I would wear 
 an easy Norfolk jacket suit and slip- 
 pers, or jolly-well stop single. 
 
 I glanced at my watch and found it 
 time to be at the church gate, put on 
 my new top hat — for fiendish discom- 
 fort give me a new topper, an iron 
 band is velvet to it — and hied me 
 forth. 
 
 As I came to the lich-gate of the 
 church I saw that the Colonel had 
 not failed me. There he stood, four- 
 square to the winds of heaven, with a 
 
 large parcel in one hand and a sword in the other. A sword, 
 because he wished to look appropriate, and as he was dressed 
 
 The Colonel awaited me. 
 
200 MY DOG AND I 
 
 in a musical comedy officer's uniform, of blue and silver with 
 a red shako, the sight of his splendor nearly knocked me 
 over. 
 
 He held out the parcel to me as his voice rose in a ful- 
 some greeting, which began with an invocation to Hiven to 
 bless me, his cherished friend, and finished up with a query 
 as to whether there was time for a little liquid refreshment. 
 
 As I took the parcel he remarked — " 'Tis the birds av 
 Paradise, me son, to grace the festive board. I slew 'em 
 f 'r a weddin' prisint to remind yez av the ould times. They'll 
 ate alright, f'r betune ye an' me they was pheasants before 
 they tuk to th' show. I've replaced um by a marmoset, who 
 I've billed as a dwarf gorilla, so there's no need to imagine 
 'twas a great sacrifice." 
 
 I wondered if they'd taste of cod-liver oil, and determined 
 to give them a decent burial directly the Colonel had gone. 
 I didn't want to hurt his feelings by saying I'd rather not 
 eat them, and I certainly didn't want to hurt my own by 
 making a meal of the poor old creatures. 
 
 The glorious aspect of the Colonel's uniform decided me 
 to hurry him into the vestry to await Pectora and Upottery, 
 and he thereupon took the opportunity to give a general 
 lecture to the verger and myself on the pitfalls of married 
 life, to such a dire extent I meditated a bolt whilst there 
 was yet time. 
 
 " 'Tis a lottery," he boomed gruesomely. ''I've been 
 through it four times, so I know. Me first was a fat lady, 
 who'd been so used to public applause she niver could sittle 
 to private life. The Hss I say av the sicond the betther. 
 Niver spake ill av the dead, me frinds. The thirrd lift me 
 to run away with a livin' skiliton, an' I ran away fr'm the 
 fourth wid about half me hair tore out. Take th' advice av 
 a victim, an dirictly they start throwin' things quit." 
 
 This naturally encouraged me. By the time Pectora arrived 
 I was in a nice cold perspiration, and my beastly collar-stud 
 went on the loose again to add to my uncomfortable state. 
 Trust a collar-stud to take the spirit out of a man. It has a 
 
MY DOG AND I 201 
 
 way of crawling round under your clothes that makes you 
 feel as if you had about two hundred caterpillars meandering 
 around you, and it generally finishes up by sliding into your 
 right sock and jabbing you with its sharp edge on the most 
 tender part of your ankle. 
 
 Hence I have but a confused idea of the ceremony. I 
 remember the Colonel produced a book from somewhere 
 and insisted on reading the whole service in a loud rich voice 
 a word ahead of anyone, so that Pectora promised to obey 
 the Colonel, and I promised to cherish him, and Upottery 
 gave him away, and he was married to everyone present. 
 Anyway, it sounded like that. 
 
 I noticed that getting married is very much like a visit 
 to the dentist to have an extraction by gas. You are in a 
 fearful stew before the event, there is a brief interim of 
 swimmy chaos, and you come to to find you are minus 
 a tooth or plus a wife, and there only remains to fee the 
 clergyman or the dentist as the case may be and go home, 
 and with your mind made up that you'll never go through 
 it again. 
 
 In our desire not to attract attention we walked instead 
 of drove back from the church. Pectora led with me, and 
 the Colonel, with the birds of Paradise under one arm, and 
 Upottery on the other, closed the procession. A cold break- 
 fast awaited us at Pectoral Villa, and it speaks much for 
 the placidity of Middewick that even the Colonel's uniform 
 did not shake it from its utterable peace. 
 
 The pellet factory had been closed in honor of the event, 
 but none of the workpeople had sufficient energy to turn up, 
 save a recently-discharged one who threw stones until put 
 to flight by the Colonel's sword. 
 
 The Demon had not attended the wedding. I had half 
 expected to see him trot into the church with a dead rat or 
 kitten in his mouth, but he chose to remain at home, possibly 
 with an idea he could be of service in the kitchen preparing 
 the collation which was to wind up the proceedings. He was 
 not to be seen when we entered the house either. 
 
202 
 
 MY DOG AND I 
 
 "I wonder where the dog is?" said Pectora as we went in. 
 "He generally runs when he hears me coming." 
 
 So he did when he heard me coming, but in the opposite 
 direction. 
 
 We looked about for him, for we had got so used to his 
 presence, and the way he had of tripping us up, it seemed 
 
 quite strange to walk about 
 without fear of a stumble. 
 
 "Perhaps he is in here," I 
 suggested as I opened the 
 dining-room door, where the 
 breakfast was laid. 
 He was. 
 
 R. I. P. There in the center of the 
 
 table, peacefully reclining on 
 a heap of empty dishes, and with the leg of a chicken pro- 
 truding from the corner of his mouth lay the Demon, past 
 all recall. 
 
 And so, with his earthly shape (preserved by the taxidermic 
 arts of Harker) under a glass case on the sideboard, end the 
 moving adventures of My Dog and I. 
 
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BOOKS THAT CHEER 
 
 By CHARLES BATTELL LOOMIS 
 
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 A HOLIDAY TOUCH 
 
 And other tales of dauntless Americans. 
 
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 POE'S RAVEN IN AN ELEVATOR 
 
 Being a later edition of "More Cheerful Americans." Illus- 
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