# The Boys of Columbia High on the Ice/Chapter 6
#### CHAPTER VI
##### WHEN BRUTUS CHANGED HIS MIND

Lanky stood there as if rooted to the spot.
He saw the toothless old hound fly over to the vicinity of the gate as if expecting to find him there. Of course Brutus must immediately realize his mistake, and as age could not have dulled his sense of scent he would whirl around, to come bounding toward the steps.
Lanky's mind was busy, even if his limbs for those few seconds seemed to have become paralyzed. He could not run, for retreat was cut off; hence he must either stand and defend himself as best he might, or else hastily draw himself up into the low branches of the tree under which he happened to be standing at the moment.
Just then he took it for granted that the chain holding the dog had broken under his frantic efforts. Later on he would find occasion to change his mind somewhat on this score.
By the merest chance in the world he happened to have in his hands a fragment of a canoe mast. ​Frank had given it to him, suggesting that it might be used to "step" in his boat, and the regular mast, shortened by the accident, be spliced to it, so as to realize the proper height.
It was one of those lucky streaks by which Lanky's misfortunes were usually tempered, even as the wind is to the shorn lamb. He only remembered that he was clutching this three-foot stout stick when he saw the hound jumping straight toward him.
There was only one thing to do, and that was to strike, and strike with all the power in his good arms. Lanky was a noted wielder of the willow in the baseball season, and knew just how to gauge a ball that was speeding toward him from the pitcher's box.
"Hey, there, get out, Brutus!" he shouted, on the spur of the moment.
Did Brutus obey? Not so it could be noticed. Indeed, truth to tell, the fierce old dog seemed to increase his speed, as though he had suddenly become aware of the fact that the intruder on the Seller grounds at this late hour of the night was an old foe, between whom and himself a vendetta had long existed.
"Gee! he's going to tackle me!" exclaimed Lanky, thrilled with the anticipation of meeting the animal on such apparently unequal terms.
​It was perhaps mechanically that he drew back with that stout three-foot pole, as he always did when at the plate, with two strikes called upon him. But the object speeding toward him now was something far different from a horsehide sphere impelled by the arm of an artful pitcher.
Brutus was not barking or growling now. Like most of his breed when he had business in view he saved his breath. But his appearance was doubly disquieting to the boy, on that account.
Lanky made no attempt to fly. He knew the folly of it, and seemed to realize that whatever was to be done must spring from his own efforts. Hence the frantic grip he maintained upon that remnant of a once proud canoe mast; and his method of standing there clear of the trunk of the tree, so that he might at least have a free swing.
Once Brutus started from the gate, it took him only a dozen quick leaps to arrive on the scene. Lanky judged of his coming just as he had taught himself to do in connection with a ball. And when he smote with all his might and main, fair and true, he brought his strange bat against the head of the leaping hound.
Whack!
Brutus went whirling over in a confused heap of legs and head; and a mournful howl accompanied the near tragedy. But he scrambled up in a trice, and ​once more assayed to bring the game down. Evidently the old fire raged in his veins, even though his toothless jaws might refuse to do their part.
Lanky had no desire to let the beast fasten upon him, teeth or no teeth. He had a hearty dislike for most dogs, and in this respect differed greatly from his chum, Frank, who was unusually fond of them.
Whang!
"Why, this is easy, dead easy!" exclaimed the boy, exultantly, as he saw his canine antagonist roll over again, and then gaining his feet go galloping around the yard, yelping furiously.
"Now for the gate; while he's fuddled!" said Lanky, starting forward.
He had gone half way when he saw the dog again bearing down on him. Some one was urging the poor beast on with eager hisses, some one who must have come from behind the house!
It was Lef Seller, fully dressed! Evidently he had been waiting to see who would carry an answer to his challenge to the house; and recognizing Lanky, in the meanness of his soul he had waited until sure that the letter must have been deposited under the door, when he had suddenly allowed Brutus his freedom!
Lanky's blood boiled with anger. Three times within the last few hours had he been brought face ​to face with sudden peril, and all through the pettjf hatred of this contemptible schemer.
He was half tempted to rush at the fellow, and tackle him then and there, regardless of the presence of Brutus, and the fact that Lef was in his own dooryard, where he was supposed by law to have unusual rights.
Discretion carried the day, and Lanky beat a hasty retreat, threatening the dog with his cudgel as he went. Brutus had by this time learned a little wisdom. He did not fancy the result when that mast remnant sang so lively a tune on his cranium. Hence, whenever Lanky made as if about to belabor him again, he would turn tail and retreat a few yards.
In this fashion Lanky gained the gate, and placed it between himself and trouble.
Then he stood there in defiance.
"Just step outside, Lef Seller, if you want what is coming to you!" he gritted, unmindful of the fact that windows had been thrown up all around, and people were of course listening to what was said.
"Why, that you, Wallace? I declare if I didn't think it was that old hobo from up at Rattail Island. I saw him downtown, and warned Chief Hogg against him. Just like Bill to drop in and try to rob some one to-night. What under the sun were you ​doing in our yard? I saw you taking a peep, and thought sure it must be a thief."
Lanky gasped for breath at this brazen declaration from Lef. He felt in his inmost soul that the other had known all along who entered the place. And yet, with his customary cleverness Lef covered his tracks.
"You know just as well as I do what brought me here," he cried.
"How should I. It's been a year and more since you ever stepped into my yard. What d'ye want? Come to make a complaint because you smashed my ice-boat to smithereens on the river this afternoon, and nearly killed Bill and me? Better look up my dad in the daytime for that, and not come sneaking about at this late hour."
"Oh! shucks, there's no getting around you. Under your front door lies the acceptance to the challenge you sent the Columbia High Hockey Team. I was commissioned to bring it around, and leave it, if you'd all gone to bed. You let that dog loose on purpose, say what you please. But I guess I oughtn't to complain, since he gave me a little batting practice, poor old Brutus!"
"Aw! you think you're smart because you hammered a poor old dog that hasn't one tooth in his head! I'd go chase myself before I boasted of such a thing," said the other, feeling especially bitter ​because Lanky had again come out of a hole without much damage.
"Well, I wasn't going to let him mouth me. He always did have it in for me; and you knew that when you unchained him. All right. Keep going just as you are, and I warn you the time is close at hand when you're going to get yours, good and plenty. If Frank Allen don't give it to you, I will. I was a fool to bring that note here. I ought to have known you'd be ready to spring some dirty trick on me in return for my kindness."
So speaking Lanky whirled on his heel and stalked down the street, followed by the taunting laughter of the other. But Lanky would not condescend to make out that he heard, for he was boiling over with indignation. Besides, the excitement of the encounter with old Brutus had left him trembling somewhat, as was natural.
"Anyhow, I bet that poor old beast has a swelled head to-morrow. Wow! but didn't this bully little club just ring every time she came thump against his cranium? Wonder what Frank will say when I tell him? Two to one he'll agree with me that it was a set-up job of Lef 's to give me fits. H'm! well, I oughtn't to complain, since I get out of the squabble without a scratch."
He laughed nervously and handled the stub of the canoe mast with an almost affectionate touch.
​"Say, I'll never look at this fine bit of stick again without a grin. Why, I'll be sure to hear the whang as it banged up against Brutus. I guess it pays to play baseball, and know how to swing a bat," he, continued.
Half a block further on he discovered that someone was moving on ahead of him.
"Granny guns! if I don't believe that's my Bill—Bill, yes plain Bill! What's he want over in this section, I'd like to know? This ain't the way upriver to his camp on Rattail. Was Lef right when he said Bill was a thief, and had come down to town to nab something? I don't know; perhaps he is, for nearly all hoboes are; but somehow I didn't kind of expect that of Bill."
He walked behind the other for a short distance. Several times he felt an inclination to hasten his steps and overtake the shuffling figure ahead. Then he changed his mind.
"It might bring about new trouble, and I reckon I've just been through the mill enough for one day. What Bill's doing here is none of my business. He's gone past our house now, and is still moving on up the road. Good-bye Bill, whoever you are, I'll remember sooner or later; I'm determined to."
So Lanky turned in at his own gate. He saw the shuffling figure stop at the sound of the closing gate, and look back. Governed by an impulse he ​could never explain, Lanky, standing there, waved his hand toward the figure at the end of the fence surrounding the Wallace place.
"He's answering me. That shows that he knows I recognized him. And he doesn't seem to be afraid on that account. If he was sneaking around, meaning to rob some house he'd hardly act like that. Wish I knew what Bill was after. Perhaps I might guess if I could only remember who he makes me think of. Bill A, Bill B—I'm going clean through the alphabet but I'll hit on it sooner or later. I've just got to!"
Then Lanky entered his home. If ever a fellow ought to be satisfied that his lucky star was in the ascendant he certainly should.
"Three times wasn't out, that's sure," he chuckled as he made his way upstairs to his room; "but I wish I knew just what that Lef Seller has in mind in wanting the Columbia Hockey Seven to play his old scrub team to-morrow. And there are some other things I'd like to get on to, particularly—but here, I said I wouldn't allow myself to think of that again to-night—Bill L, Bill M, oh, rats, am I to be just haunted by that measly puzzle all my life?"
Making another determined effort he put it out of his mind. Presently he tumbled into bed, and cuddled under the warm clothes; for winter had come, and outside the air was nipping.
​Whether Lanky really did dream of the lonely tramp with the familiar face he never told. Just as likely as not he did, for he was a great fellow to make mountains out of mole-hills; and once his curiosity became excited he could not rest until it was appeased.
But when he jumped out of bed in the morning and stepped across to the window, his first thought was in connection with the beauty of the early dawn.
"It's going to be a cracking good day for the game with that scrub team!" he remarked, as he hurried to dress.
An hour later, after he had finished his breakfast, and was thinking of going out, the bell of the telephone rang. As Lanky chanced to be the only one about he took down the receiver.
"Hello!" he said, wondering if it could be Frank.
"Hello! I want to speak to Lanky Wallace, please," came a strange voice.
"Well, that's me, I guess. What is it?" demanded the boy.
"If you play that Lef Seller crowd to-day, look out for fouls! They've got it arranged to just knock several of your fellows out, so they can't play Clifford next week. I heard 'em talkin' just by the merest accident, and wanted to tell you."
"Say, that's mighty kind of you. I seem to ​recognize the voice, but can't just place you. Who is it talking, please?" asked Lanky; and then he nearly fell over when the voice through the wire went on placidly:
"Who, me? Oh! I'm just Bill!"