Beautiful Joe [38]
must have been the smell
of Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have never felt so wicked
since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and my mother, and the thought
gave me pleasure.
Old Jim soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to let him
know I was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the corner caught up
with the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, and
though it was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me to see the
ugly face of my old master.
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 a been caught. Why ," and he staggered back and uttered a bad word, "it's
me 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
of Jenkins. I felt as if I could tear him to pieces. I have never felt so wicked
since. I was hunting him, as he had hunted me and my mother, and the thought
gave me pleasure.
Old Jim soon caught up with me, and I gave him a push with my nose, to let him
know I was glad he had come. We rushed swiftly on, and at the corner caught up
with the miserable man who was running away from us.
I gave an angry growl, and jumping up, bit at his leg. He turned around, and
though it was not a very bright night, there was light enough for me to see the
ugly face of my old master.
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 a been caught. Why ," and he staggered back and uttered a bad word, "it's
me 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