He seemed so angry to think that Jim and I dared to snap at him. He caught up a handful of stones, and with some bad words threw them at us. Just then, away in front of us, was a queer whistle, and then another one like it behind us. Jenkins made a strange noise in his throat, and started to run down a side street, away from the direction of the two whistles.
I was afraid that he was going to get away, and though I could not hold him, I kept springing up on him, and once I tripped him up. Oh, how furious he was! He kicked me against the side of a wall, and gave me two or three hard blows with a stick that he caught up, and kept throwing stones at me.
I would not give up, though I could scarcely see him for the blood that was running over my eyes. Old Jim got so angry whenever Jenkins touched me, that he ran up behind and nipped his calves, to make him turn on him.
Soon Jenkins came to a high wall, where he stopped, and with a hurried look behind, began to climb over it. The wall was too high for me to jump. He was going to escape. What shall I do? I barked as loudly as I could for some one to come, and then sprang up and held him by the leg as he was getting over.
I had such a grip, that I went over the wall with him, and left Jim on the other side. Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up, and with a look of deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help had not come, I think he would have dashed out my brains against the wall, as he dashed out my poor little brothers’ against the horse’s stall. But just then there was a running sound. Two men came down the street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim was leaping up and down and barking in distress.
I saw at once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they were policemen. In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave up then, but he stood snarling at me like an ugly dog. “If it hadn’t been for that cur, I’d never been caught. Why—” and he staggered back and uttered a bad word, “it’s my own dog.”
“More shame to you,” said one of the policemen, sternly; “what have you been up to at this time of night, to have your own dog and a quiet minister’s spaniel dog a chasing you through the street?”
Jenkins began to swear and would not tell them anything. There was a house in the garden, and just at this minute some one opened a window and called out, “Hallo, there, what are you doing?”
“We’re catching a thief, sir,” said one of the policemen, “leastwise I think that’s what he’s been up to. Could you throw us down a bit of rope? We’ve no handcuffs here, and one of us has to go to the lock-up and the other to Washington street, where there’s a woman yelling blue murder; and hurry up, please, sir.”
The gentleman threw down a rope, and in two minutes Jenkins’ wrists were tied together, and he was walked through the gate, saying bad words as fast as he could to the policeman who was leading him. “Good dogs,” said the other policeman to Jim and me. Then he ran up the street and we followed him.
As we hurried along Washington street, and came near our house, we saw lights gleaming through the darkness, and heard people running to and fro. The nurse’s shrieking had alarmed the neighborhood. The Morris boys were all out in the street only half clad and shivering with cold, and the Drurys’ coachman, with no hat on, and his hair sticking up all over his head, was running about with a lantern.
The neighbors’houses were all lighted up, and a good many people were hanging out of their windows and opening their doors, and calling to each other to know what all this noise meant.
When the policeman appeared with Jim and me at his heels, quite a crowd gathered around him to hear his part of the story. Jim and I dropped on the ground panting as hard as we could, and with little streams of water running from our tongues. We were both pretty well used up. Jim’s back was bleeding in several places from the stones that Jenkins had thrown at him, and I was a mass of bruises.
Presently we were discovered, and then what a fuss was made over us. “Brave dogs! Noble dogs!” everybody said, and patted and praised us. We were very proud and happy, and stood up and wagged our tails, at least Jim did, and I wagged what I could. Then they found what a state we were in. Mrs.Morris cried, and catching me up in her arms, ran in the house with me, and Jack followed with old Jim.
We all went into the parlor. There was a good fire there, and Miss Laura and Miss Bessie were sitting over it. They sprang up when they saw us, and right there in the parlor washed our wounds, and made us lie down by the fire.
“You saved our silver, brave Joe,” said Miss Bessie, “just wait till my papa and mamma come home, and see what they will say. Well, Jack, what is the latest?” as the Morris boys came trooping into the room.
“The policeman has been questioning your nurse, and examining the dining-room, and has gone down to the station to make his report, and do you know what he has found out?” said Jack, excitedly.
“No,what?” asked Miss Bessie.
“Why that villain was going to burn your house.”
Miss Bessie gave a little shriek. “Why, what do you mean?”
“Well,” said Jack, “they think by what they discovered, that he planned to pack his bag with silver, and carry it off; but just before he did so he would pour oil around the room, and set fire to it, so people would not find out that he had been robbing you.”
“Why we might have all been burned to death,” said Miss Bessie. “He couldn’t burn the dining-room without setting fire to the rest of the house.”
