THE MUZZLE
Jan's curiosity about the dogs that disappeared was satisfied when a
lady in a handsome gown was driven to the bungalow one evening.
Captain Smith met her with a happy smile, then he brought in an Airedale
dog that had been with the other dogs for many weeks. The lady patted
the dog, spoke to it gently, then she rose from her chair and the
captain followed her to the gate where an automobile was waiting. The
Airedale was lifted into the seat beside her.
"He will have the kindest care," she leaned forward to say, "and I hope
you will be able to find homes for all the other dogs, too. I will tell
my friends about them. Captain Smith, does the city pay for their feed
while you find homes for them all?"
Jan saw his master slowly shake his head, "It does not take much to feed
them," he answered. "I am allowed to feed them a week, but I manage the
rest of it from my salary. It makes me happy to see their gratitude, for
most of them have been cuffed about so they don't know that there are
people who will be kind and love them."
After the visitor left, Jan lay quietly watching the old man moving
about the room. Now, he understood everything, and the dog rose quickly
and thrust his nose into the wrinkled hand. The smile on the old man's
face went deep into Jan's heart as the poundmaster, lifting the dog's
head, looked into Jan's eyes, saying, "It's a pretty hard thing when any
human being is without a friend, Jan; but people can speak up for
themselves. A dog can't do that, and yet, he is the best friend any man
can have."
So Jan always felt happy after that day, for when he missed one of the
dogs now, he knew it had found a home and some one to love it. And on
those days the poundmaster went around with shining eyes while his lips
puckered up in a cheerful whistle, or Jan heard him singing:'
"Old dog Tray is ever faithful,
Grief cannot drive him away;
He's gentle and he's kind
And you'll never, never find
A better friend than old dog Tray."
Many times when friends called to talk and smoke with the Captain, Jan
would go for a short walk along the beach. One evening the ocean looked
so inviting that the dog could not resist swimming far out, barking and
snapping at floating kelp. It was much later than usual when he reached
the shore and shook his long fur until it showered the salt water like a
rain storm, then with a loud "Woof!" of happiness, he ran toward his
home.
The high cliffs that rose above the beach threw dark shadows on the
sand. The little bungalow where the captain lived was at the top of this
cliff overlooking the ocean. The pound was not far away, and there were
several other bungalows a little distance apart from each other, and a
flight of wooden steps edged a twisting footpath which led directly up
to the front gate of Jan's home.
It was easier to scamper up the pathway than climb the wooden steps, and
the dog hurried to reach the top; but a slight noise made him pause and
look at the thick brush near him. There was nothing to be seen, but
Jan's ears listened sharply while his sensitive nose sniffed the air
suspiciously. One sniff was enough to make the hair bristle along his
back. William, his old enemy, was near.
Jan whirled quickly, his eyes shining with fury and hate, and his hair
formed a stiff ridge along his back while his teeth gleamed in a snarl.
Something slipped over his head and despite his struggles, it twisted
tightly around his neck. A strange odor made him sick and weak when he
tried to breathe. His paws clawed in his attempts to tear the sack from
his head, so that he could breathe and fight, but his legs grew limp, a
noise sounded inside his ears, something seemed to be hammering at the
top of his head. He made one more effort, staggered a few steps, then
crumpled down on the sand. But he knew it was William's boot that kicked
him, and William's voice that said, "Guess that will settle you." Jan
tried to growl but he was too sick to make a sound.
The next thing he knew was when he woke in a strange dark place. His
whole body was stiff and sore, he felt sick all over and something hurt
his nose terribly. His paws clawed at the thing that hurt. It was made
of wire that cut deeply in his flesh. He knew it was a muzzle, for he
had seen other dogs suffer from them. The more he clawed, the worse it
hurt.
Then he rubbed his head sideways on the floor, but this made matters
worse, so he gave up fighting and lay with his nose against the floor
until he could stand the pain no longer. When he staggered to his feet,
he found a rope held him, but when he tried to chew the rope the muzzle
kept his jaws closed so that he was barely able to thrust the tip of his
swollen tongue between his front teeth.
Jan suffered torture, not only because the wire cut his flesh, but also
because any dog, when frightened, sick, or too hot, becomes feverish and
his tongue hangs from his mouth. That is the way a dog sweats, and
Prince Jan's mouth was clamped together by the muzzle. He could not hear
any noise in the room, so he lay down and kept very quiet. There was
really nothing else he could do, except howl. He knew that William had
something to do with all this trouble, and he hated William more than
ever.
A door opened. Jan sprang to his feet, hoping he might be able to break
the rope and escape before the door was closed. He crouched and leaped
with all his strength, but the rope was too strong and he fell with a
thud to the floor, where he panted heavily. A flash of light almost
blinded him, but he saw William and snarled defiance. Another man was in
the room. Jan caught a glimpse of him, gave a sniff, and knew that this
other man was the one who had been with William in the Pixley stable. He
felt that he had two enemies now to fight.
As William came toward the dog, Jan strained on the rope.
"You'll get that temper taken out of you before long," threatened the
man, at the same time keeping carefully beyond the length of the rope.
But William's hatred outbalanced his caution, and he lifted his foot to
give the dog a kick. Jan shrank back, not from fear as William supposed,
but to get a better chance to spring and grab the man's leg.
"Let him alone," called the other man. "The worse you treat that dog the
harder it will be to handle him."
William scowled. "The best thing is to kill him now. We're taking a big
risk on the chance of selling him."
"Oh, go ahead and kill him if you want to," the other man shrugged his
shoulders. "Let your spite keep you from making a thousand dollars."
He held out a bottle, "Here's the chloroform. Go on, finish the job if
you're going to."
"I don't believe you can sell him," sneered William. "You just said that
because you knew I was going to kill him before I left here."
"If you didn't hate dogs the way you do," replied Shorty, "you'd know
that he'll sell for a thousand dollars as soon as he is over the
Canadian line. The man I told you about will buy that dog without a
question."
"Some one will recognize the dog before we get there, if the old man
stirs things up."
"Not when I get him fixed," bragged Shorty.
"There's no time to fool with him," persisted William, "We've got to get
away quick."
"Let me alone," snapped Shorty. "This is my end of the job. If you stop
picking on the dog, I'll have no trouble with him. I never knew a dog
from the time we were kids that didn't hate you on sight."
"Yes, and you're a regular fool over them," William retorted. "You take
care of him and get the money for him, and I'll look out for the machine
and sell that. But you've got to keep that dog muzzled or there'll be
trouble coming your way fast and plenty. See?"
Shorty did not answer and William went out. Jan and Shorty faced each
other. The dog's muscles were taut, his eyes alert. The man looked at
him steadily.
"You're the dandiest, spunkiest dog I ever saw," he said at last, as
though sure that Jan understood the words. "I like you, old fellow, and
I'd turn you loose, if I dared."
He placed a pan of water in front of the dog and the angry gleam
softened in Jan's eyes. He thrust his nose into the pan but the muzzle
was too tight to permit him to drink. The dog looked up at Shorty, who
reached out his hand. Jan's tail waved, then he felt fingers run lightly
along his shoulders, fumble at the buckle of the muzzle and the cruel
thing fell to the floor. Before the dog lapped the water that he craved,
he stared into Shorty's face and saw a kindly smile that told him this
man was a friend. Jan's hot tongue touched Shorty's hand before turning
to lap the cool liquid.
"You'll be all right now," Shorty said as he rubbed the places where the
strap had cut deeply. Then when Jan had finished drinking, the man fed
him bits of meat.
After the meal was over, Shorty took a pair of clippers and cropped
Jan's long hair close to the skin. It did not hurt, so the dog submitted
quietly. A sponge and bucket of dark liquid were brought by the man and
Jan was thoroughly saturated, until the dye dripped to the floor.
"Got to put on that muzzle, boy, before he gets back," but this time the
strips did not hurt so badly.
William chuckled when he saw the dog. "Great stunt, Shorty! The
poundmaster wouldn't know his own dog if he caught him now!"
He picked up a couple of bundles and a suitcase, while Shorty led Jan by
the rope. They were in a deep cañon, where no sound of the ocean could
be heard. Jan did not know the place. He had never been away from the
noise of the surf since living in California. A big, black automobile
stood under a tree. William tossed the things into it and climbed to the
front seat with a laugh.
"The police will have as much trouble finding a grey machine as the
poundman will have finding a long-haired St. Bernard dog. We'll hit the
road lively at night and camp in the day. There's just one thing you've
got to remember. If I see you getting stuck on that dog I'm going to
kill him. I'm taking him along because you said you could sell him, and
I'm not going to stand any nonsense about it."
Shorty's only answer was to open the back door of the machine and motion
the dog to jump. He obeyed and curled on the floor. Shorty sat in the
back seat while William drove.
Jan did not sleep during the long, dark hours they sped over the road.
He kept wondering what the captain would think, and hoping he could get
back home some way. Once in a while he lifted his head as a flash of
light showed another automobile passing. At daybreak William turned into
thick brush and drove over rough ground until they stopped beside a
shallow stream.
Still muzzled, Jan leaped from the car and followed Shorty, but he
watched William closely. The dog was tied after he had been allowed to
drink at the creek. William loafed while Shorty made coffee and cooked a
meal, which the older man ate, grumbling all the time. Then he threw
himself on the ground and dragged his hat over his face.
Shorty fed Jan, and after clearing away the breakfast things, moved
closer to the dog. Jan's tail rustled the dry leaves and twigs, as
Shorty, with a boyish smile, stretched on the ground beside him. A hand
touched one of Jan's ears and pulled it gently, but the hand was
friendly and the dog's eyes showed he understood. Then, tired from the
long ride, Shorty and Jan slept soundly.
At dusk another meal was prepared and eaten, and they started again on
their journey. For two more days and nights they travelled in the dark
and camped in hidden places during the day, so that no one could see
them. The muzzle was never taken again from Jan's nose, for William
watched constantly and repeated his warnings several times. He did not
know, however, that Shorty eased the strap so that the wire and leather
could not cut, and in this way he made Jan as comfortable as was
possible.
The night of the third day there was a full moon, and dim shadows were
cast by scattered trees near the road. It was very warm and Jan's muzzle
worried him; then, too, he was stiff from lack of the exercise to which
he had been accustomed. Shorty noticed the dog's restlessness and leaned
down. His fingers slipped under the strap and wires, then touched the
buckle at the side of the head. Jan squirmed nearer and wagged his tail.
Each night when they were well on the way, Shorty did this much to help
the dog, but he had to tighten the muzzle before William turned the
machine from the road to camp for the day.
As Shorty leaned over, the car reached a clear place in the road, where
the moon shone brightly. Shorty did not see William turn, but a brutal
fist struck full force against Shorty's face and he tumbled from the
seat into the bottom of the automobile against Jan.
The dog growled, but the growl was meant for William, not Shorty. Then
Jan knew that Shorty was up on his feet and both men were swearing and
fighting, while the automobile twisted from side to side of the road,
and was going faster and faster. There was a crash. Jan whirled over and
over through the air and as he struck the ground he heard a man's scream
of pain. He did not know whether it was Shorty or William who cried out,
but he did know that he was free, and he dashed into the darkness of
the thick trees, not knowing where he was going, not caring where he
went, only the one thing was in his mind--he was leaving William behind
and he must run as fast as he could.