Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-03-07

the hillside above you and the ocean
below. Away from the sea the road
is smooth and dark. Ahead on the
upgrades are mirages; ahead on the
downgradtS are auto camps.
Gyp the Blood pointed his nose to.
ward the north while his great black
ears blew back in curls and banners.
Motoring interested Gyp the Blood.
He viewed the landscape tolerantly
| standing, black and silver, in his shin
ing harness against the ffshore wind.
You have two souls, brother" said
Martin; zone in each eye"
Gyp the Blood, thus addressed
! swung an indolent paw and glanced
back at Martin over his sturdy
shoulder.
With his free hand Martin opened
the box of dog biscuit Gyp the Blood
anXiously watched. He preferred the
driver to drive, not to snatch about
| under the seat. Nevertheless, he po-
litely accepted a biscuit, crunched,
meditated and blew back his ears
Fat cocker spaniels are stupid -
Martin suggested after long period
OF crunching and meditating.
Gyp the Blood composedly watched
the putting away of the delectable box
Then, bereft, he gaZed with sudden
desperation at the empty ocean, the
empty road, the dull and empty sky
And then he ramped. His harness
jingled and his ears spun around like
pinwheels. His eyes became crimson.
Up and down, back and forth, he
jounced and iingled. jingled and
jounced.
In vain Martin thought of mileages;
in vain he noticed the weather and a
great purple streak of seaweed float
I nc fro no Of ha .
/ Blood churned and gasped: he allowed
his tongue to dangle; he rumpled one
furry ear over his head and glared
from beneath it like a buccaneer I'M
der hat.
Martin believed in discipline, in
habits not to be formed. He believed
in discipline for Is minutes Then,
with his free hand, he searched under
the front seat and gave him another
biscuit.
IT was l o'clock in Santa Barbara,
and the Spanish court under it's
rust-colored awning was fashionably
filled when the little party of one Bar
berry and one dog appeared in the
adobe doorway.
If YOU could leave your dog out
side, suggested the manager, coming
| forward gravely. with a smooth, fash
! ionable forehead and IA smooth, fash
ionable voice which ran up and down
the scale perpetually in little waves of
words. 1t would hardly have sur
prised Martin if her voice had not
stopped at scales, but had gone on
indefinitely around and around the
room or out of the doorway, home
Martin could ina CINE it fashionab bly,
SprintinG along the coast route on it's
way to Carmel
We prefer not to admit dogs" the
voice added dispa ssionately.
That's odd" declared Martin, for
there is a white Sealyham terrier be-
yond the fountain with the girl in
gray"
"Of course" smiled the manag ger
desperately. But Miss Moore knows
how to handle dogs. She shows them
all over the country. Her dog is a
champion"
They only admit champions.
brother" said Martin over his Shout
der.
The manager bit her lip. Angrily
she stared at the listening tearoom.
Amused. the tearoOm stared back at
her. Martin surveyed the fiagstones
upon one of which Gyp the Blood was
solidly sitting.
We are in," said Gyp the Blood s
crimson eye, land we intend to re-
main"
Il wouldn't move, brother" advised
Martin, looking down over the edge of
their dull-blue metal table. You're
hitched. Your leash is under the
table leg. And, besides, you know,
you're a gentleman and you've had
your lunch"
Gyp the Blood sat stodgily. He was
low dog, and therefore at a disad-
vantage in crowds. He saw only feet,
He had as yet missed the Sealyham
terrier.
1t must have been during dessert
that Gyp the Blood glimDsed among
the tables fluffy blur of white
Gyp the Blood. consigned for so
long to the outer darkness of flag
stones and feet. was nothing if not
astuie. After careful peerirfg, the
blur resolved itself into a dog-a white,
furry dog-that was being fed buns.
Gyp the Blood did not stop to bark
Without preliminaries, he started for
ward. cargoed. like little tug convoy.
ing an ocean liner.
The table went down at the first
f1agstone and Gyp the Blood was free,
but his pursuer was upon him. 1t was
disorderly chase. Around and around
the tearoom flew Gyp the Blood, like
an animate rag in the path of strong
gale. Around and around after him
flew Martin Barbery and a growing
number of fashionable lunchers.
Dull-blue chairs went down with regu-
lar bangs. And the girl in gray stood
in the midst of the melee.
1t ended at a little old gentleman in
the doorway. The little old gentleman
had a cap and two canes, and he ap-
peared, inopportunely for him, just as
Gyp the Blood was advancing like the
wind down the homestretch toward
the open door. The last crash was the
little old gentleman.
Martin helped. him up and un-
wrapped Gyppie's leash from the little
old gentemans lacerated leg. Behind
him was ruin confusion. explanations.
Under his arm painted Gyp the Blood,
regarding him with a delighted eye.
And Martin suddenly, insanely, wanted
to laugh.
But he didn't laugh. He walked
back into the tearoom and stopped be-
fore the girl in gray.
I'm sorry" said Martin.