The dogs would not follow. Only Alexander, Marcus's new setter, kept his place at the rear of the car. The other three lost their senses immediately, running wildly about the streets with their heads in the air, or suddenly starting off at a furious gallop directly away from the car.
Marcus whistled and shouted and lathered with rage in vain.
The two friends were obliged to walk. When they finally reached Polk Street, Marcus shut up the three dogs in the hospital. Alexander he brought back to the flat with him.
There was a minute back yard in the rear, where Marcus had made a kennel for Alexander out of an old water barrel.
Before he thought of his own supper Marcus put Alexander to bed and fed him a couple of dog biscuits. McTeague had followed him to the yard to keep him company. Alexander settled to his supper at once, chewing vigorously at the biscuit, his head on one side.
"What you going to do about this--about that--about--about my cousin now, Mac?" inquired Marcus.
McTeague shook his head helplessly. It was dark by now and cold. The little back yard was grimy and full of odors.
McTeague was tired with their long walk. All his uneasiness about his affair with Trina had returned. No, surely she was not for him. Marcus or some other man would win her in the end. What could she ever see to desire in him--in him, a clumsy giant, with hands like wooden mallets? She had told him once that she would not marry him. Was that not final?
"I don' know what to do, Mark," he said.
"Well, you must make up to her now," answered Marcus. "Go and call on her."
McTeague started. He had not thought of calling on her.
The idea frightened him a little.
"Of course," persisted Marcus, "that's the proper caper.
What did you expect? Did you think you was never going to see her again?"
"I don' know, I don' know," responded the dentist, looking stupidly at the dog.
"You know where they live," continued Marcus Schouler.
"Over at B Street station, across the bay. I'll take you over there whenever you want to go. I tell you what, we'll go over there Washington's Birthday. That's this next Wednesday; sure, they'll be glad to see you." It was good of Marcus. All at once McTeague rose to an appreciation of what his friend was doing for him. He stammered:
"Say, Mark--you're--you're all right, anyhow."
"Why, pshaw!" said Marcus. "That's all right, old man. I'd like to see you two fixed, that's all. We'll go over Wednesday, sure."
They turned back to the house. Alexander left off eating and watched them go away, first with one eye, then with the other. But he was too self-respecting to whimper. However, by the time the two friends had reached the second landing on the back stairs a terrible commotion was under way in the little yard. They rushed to an open window at the end of the hall and looked down.
A thin board fence separated the flat's back yard from that used by the branch post-office. In the latter place lived a collie dog. He and Alexander had smelt each other out, blowing through the cracks of the fence at each other.
Suddenly the quarrel had exploded on either side of the fence. The dogs raged at each other, snarling and barking, frantic with hate. Their teeth gleamed. They tore at the fence with their front paws. They filled the whole night with their clamor.
"By damn!" cried Marcus, "they don't love each other. Just listen; wouldn't that make a fight if the two got together?
Have to try it some day."
