The Washington herald., 1916-07-30

him every time he sees him pass the
Rokeson grounds"
Hasn't forgiven Tom?' cried Mabel.
Indignantly, what for I'd like to know?
Tom wasn't to blame, that time they
were arrested. And Henry RokesoR put
all the blame on him and
"Oh, don't let's dig up ancient history"
laughed Tom, good-naturedly. He prob
ably believed l was at fault. ia forgot
ten all about it long before now. And
as for the dogs and the chickens why,
neighbors must put UP with inconvenien-
ces sometimes. Don't worry about Hutch.
either. The kennel man was just in fun.
Nobody would want to harm jolly little
innocent pup like Hutch. Now run on.
both OF you and stop hindering your
busy hired man. Scat!'
As he bent to his garden work, Tom
heard two mems voices in conversation
on the far side of the picket fence that
divided his lot from the end of the Roke-
son grounds in which the kennels were
situated. He recognized the voices as
those Of Hinkle Rokeson and Henry.
They were evidently inspecting the ken
nels.
Bring out old Champion Colborn,"
Tom presently heard Henry order the
kennel man. II want to look at that
barbed wire scratch on his shoulder"
mel man open a heavy wire door in one
of the enclosures. Out trotted mas
sive white bulldog, perhaps eighty pounds
in weight, huge muscles bulging through
the surface Of his glossily snowy hide.
At sight OF his master. the great dog
bounded forward, wagging his stumpy
tail in joyous greeting. leaping up at
Henry for caress. His splayed paws
brushed against Henry's flannel trousers,
lea wing dusty arkS 10 w cloth
Henry, with an eXaeperated curse at
the affectionate brutes awkwardness,
swung back one buckskin- clad foot and
delivered tremendous kick on the dogs
throat Both father and son chuckled
with laughter as Champion Colborn
tumbled prone into the dust. under the
cruel impact, and then limped crestfallen
back into his kennel.
I'D sooner cut my hand off than
treat a loving dumb animal like that"
unused Tom. adding: We'll. it's none
of my business But I'm glad Hutch
has a home where people pet him
instead of kicking him"
He went on with his planting. A
minute later. Mabel emerged from the
cottage. Calling out a CHEEKY good-by
to her brother, she walked down the
short garden path to the street gate
Toms yellow puppy had followed her
from the house and now frisked along
in front of her. gleeful in the pros
peCt of a walk. But at the gate she
sent him back, calling:
NO. no, Hutchie! Go back to mas
ter. You can't walk with me this
evening"
Chagrined, but ADtimistic. the puppy
obeyed. He trotted over to Tom. The
man patted him on the head. then
went on working. The puppy. find
ing no one had time to play with
him, decided to go for a walk on his
own account.
He ran to the gate. Mabel had
neglected to close it tightly. A few
scientific butts of Hutchs furry nose
pushed it open wide enough for him
to wriggle out.
Mabel was no longer in sight on
Hudson lane. having turned the cor
ner Il block above. Hutch cantered
on il happy search for adventure. He
was not long in finding It.
Tom heard Henry Rokeson say, in
amused excitement to the kennel man:
Let Champion Colborn out again.
Quick! And open the gate in the
hedge that leads into Hudson lane"
To his father. Rokeson explained:
That mOngrel yellow mutt of Nor
rissey's is out on the sidewalk. Watch
some fun"
Tom jumped to his feet and ran to
his own gate. But. fast as he ran.
Champion Colborn ran faster. Tom
was just in time to see the gigantic
white bulldog dart out into Hudson
lane and fling himself upon the un-
suspectingly frisking little mongrei
puppy.
There was a deep-throated growl.
followed at once by an almost human
scream of mortal agony. Then in re-
sponse to his masters laughing sum-
mons. the bulldog logged back into
the Rokeson grounds.
On the sidewalk lay a pitifully
moveless little mass of yellow fluff.
swift fate. and at the hands-or
rather the jaws-of a thoroughbred.
Champion COlborn, at a single snap.
had broken the little fellows neck.
Tom went out into Hudson lane,
tenderly picked up the lifeless body
of his loved pet, and bore 1t back into
his own yard. smoothing out the rum
pied yellow fur as he walked.
+ In Tom Morrissey's heart was no
rancor of vengefulness. Nothing but
| poignant grief for the loss of the low
able little dog to whom he had taught
| so many clever tricks. Even the un-
| disguised chuCkles of the two Roke-
sons. a. they peeped at him from
their own side of the lane hedge. did
not rouse him to wrath.
He did not want his mother to see
Hutch's twisted body. lest the sight
make her cry. So, getting spade
he buried his four-footed chum under
! a big rose bush in a corner of the
! porch. Then, heavy hearted. he went
slowly into the cottage, in reply to
| Mrs. Morrissey's announcement that
supper was ready.
Mabel had a better time than she
! had expected at the pavilion dance
| that evening. The music was good
| the floor was better. the partners
were best. And the evening flew by
on gay wings.
The first check to her pleasure came
about ten o'clock when Elsie Paynter
brother brought up a man to be intro
duced to her. Elsie's white forehead
puckered into a slight frown of dis
pleasure as she recognized the new
conner. He was Henry Rokeson.
For more than a year Henry's eyes
had followed Mabels dainty figure
with open admiration as she passed
him on the street. He had at last ad-
mitted to himself that he was gen.
uinely in love with this girl whom he
had never even met. He had taken
to spending much time near his own
side of the boundary fence, when he saw
her at work in the Morrissey garden
Thus it was that he had heard this