The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1894-03-21


only he, Jags, dumb, helpless ami
NAL, TO know and save them And he
his idolized tyrant, in there
Jags throws himself against the door
with a yell of agony. It falls open. A
thin puff of smoke wavers to meet him.
Barking, howling, fairly shrieking,
Jags tears straight for the room where
he and Blinks have their kennel. He
isn't there Out again, jumping
against doors in his frantic search,
choked with smoke, rushing through
curling tongues of flame, goes the dog.
Are they all dead in therel His mas
ter, where is he? 1t is well that one
in that vast hive is not too tired nor
too drunk to awaken. Big Andy
rouses to realize that the dog is making
"a fuss" takes in the situation in
flash, and bounds out of the smoke
filled room.
"Great God The house is on fire !"
''Fire, fire, fire ~
Somewhere a wire vibrates above
the city streets. A great bell tolls out
on the night. Clang, clang, clang I!
Rattle, rattle, rush Streams of sparks
in the wake of flying engines. Sharp
and clear the engine and patrol gongs
strike, in time with rattling hoofs and
wheels. Over all booms slowly and
solemnly, with pauses between the
strokes, the great bell.
All this time a dog was flying, with
feet scorched now by the heated floor,
from room to room, hunting for one
object. He finds him at last, in the
second story, coiled up in a drunken
heap on the floor. He springs upon
him, tugs at his clothing, barks, whines
and tries to drag him toward the door
At last the man awakes, stolidly, stu
pidly, then to a vague terror and alb
ject fright. He bounds to the door.
1t is wall of flames. He reaches the
window; no thought of the creature
who saved him comes to the brute's
mind. He raises the sash and leaps
out. 1t falls behind him. Jags is i'm
prisoned in tomb of fire.
The people have swarmed out, dirty,
dazed, half-dressed. The Gordon is
thrown out; the engines throb and
scream. The fremen work quietly,
streams of perspiration dripping be-
meath their helmets. Floods of water
glitter like liquid fire in hered flames.
The Old Mill is doomed.
'1s every one outl" asks the Chief
brusquely, gazing up toward the tot
tering furnace.
AS if in answer there is crash Of
breaking glass at a second-story win
dow and living thing appears there,
pitiful, pleading, ablaze with little
tongues of flame. 1t whines implor-
ingly.
Big Andy has private reasons of his
own for preferring to remain incog.
among swarm of policemen. But
now into the full blaze of light he
dashes forward.
"The dawg, the dawg that saved all
our lives Git i'm, boys; git i'm out !
My Godl I hsin't got no money,
boys, but look hyar They's a re-
ward of $500 out fer me I'm Big
Andy, the safe-cracker. You know
mel I'll give myself up to anybodv
that'll save that dUwg. 1 mean it,
boys"
There was good in Big Andy; he
was sobbing aloud. For the credit OF
human nature be it said, no one ever
claimed that reward.
A quiet order through the Chiefs
trumpet, and stream of water from
the hose drove the crazy window in.
The dog sprang to the sill and tottered
weakly. A fireman ran lightly mp the
ladder and carried him down to the
cool earth. There he fell, bleeding
and scorched. He reused himself to
gaze longingly around, dragged his
mangled body to where Blinks stood,
staring stupidity, and laid his head,
with faint moan, against his master S
feet.
"Speak to him l' bawled Big Andy
furiously. ''Pet i'm, or I'll kill ye %
Perhaps something human stirred
in the heart of the lower brute.
He stopped and laid a not ungentle
hand on the bleeding head,
"W'y, wy, Jags, ole fel ~
But with rapturous look of graft
tude from his one loving, beautiful
eye, the dog had gone. Where? If
there is no dog heaven, what will the
Creator do with the faithful, martyr
soul of Jags?-The Voice.