Into Empty Space
Garry Grayson obeyed the command of Mr. Fish, but not in the way that
the man had intended he should.
He had dislodged the pigskin and was slipping cautiously down the roof
to the ladder when the rasping cry of the old fellow startled him and
made him lose his balance.
He slipped, tried to recover himself, overbalanced in the other
direction, and fell, rolling over and over toward the edge of the roof!
With a yell of alarm, Bill, Rooster, Nick, and Ted rushed around to
the spot where Garry seemed destined to fall. Jacob Fish himself was
alarmed, for, much as he hated the young folks of the vicinity, he had
had no idea of precipitating a fall.
As for Garry, the nightmare moment of losing his balance and that swift
descent to the gutter of the roof seemed to occupy an eternity of time.
His clutching hands gripped empty air. He was utterly powerless to
prevent the fall that must follow. He breathed a prayer, braced
himself, felt all solid substance give way beneath him!
Then he became conscious of the branches of a great tree that rushed up
swiftly toward him, as though to strike him in the face.
Instinctively Garry reached out and his clutching fingers caught
something that bent and gave beneath his weight but did not break. It
was a stout branch of an old cedar tree that grew close beside the
house.
Garry hung on with all the strength of his lithe young arms and drew
himself into a safer position nearer the trunk, where he sat panting
and marveling at his narrow escape.
Almost simultaneously with his first slip the football that he had
pushed from the chimney had come down near the house, bouncing plump on
Jacob Fish's bald head.
At this indignity the old man's rage broke all bounds, and not having
Garry within reach to sate his vengeance, he made a dash for the other
boys, who promptly took to their heels, having first assured themselves
that Garry was safe in the tree.
"And they leave me to face the music!" muttered Garry. "Just wait till
I get hold of them!"
He had started to descend to the ground when the raucous voice of Jacob
Fish halted him abruptly. The old man was fairly boiling over with
rage. That a despised football should have descended upon his head was
the crowning insult. It was past bearing. He shook his fist at Garry.
His eyes glared at him.
"You stay up in that tree, you young blackguard!" he roared. "I've got
you dead to rights. You will sneak up on my roof, will you! You will
bounce a football on my head, will you!"
"It was an accident," began Garry.
"Don't talk to me!" roared the furious man. "I'll have none of your
insolence, you young upstart. Stay where you are," he commanded, as
Garry again started to descend the tree.
"I'm not a monkey. I can't hang on to the branch of a tree all the rest
of my life," responded Garry, whose own temper was beginning to be
ruffled by the old man's unreason.
"None of your impudence!" shouted Fish. "You try to come down out of
that tree, young man, before I'm ready you should and you'll be sorry."
"I'm coming just the same," declared Garry, at the same time coming
down another foot or two.
He hesitated, however, as a roar came from the enraged man. The latter
was running with surprising agility for one of his age toward a large
doghouse that stood a little way back in the yard.
Fish's police dog was the terror of the neighborhood, and more than
one anxious parent of small children had threatened to do away with so
vicious an animal.
Jacob Fish whistled to the dog, who came out from the kennel and
stretched himself in leisurely, graceful fashion. He was a beautiful
animal, but as fierce with strangers or those he hated as his master
was. In fact, there were many who said that the venom of old Jacob
Fish had entered into the dog and made him far fiercer than nature had
originally intended.
Now the old man released the dog from the chain that held him to the
kennel and pointed to the tree.
"Watch him, Roy! Don't let him get down! Hold him there!"
Garry looked down at the snarling dog and its snarling master. Slowly
a smile crept over his face. He was about to play a joke on old Jacob
Fish and the prospect pleased him immensely.
For, as it happened, the police dog and Garry were firm friends. Garry
had been attracted by the beauty of the animal when Fish had first
bought him. And as the lad had a great love for dogs, he determined to
get on good terms with Roy.
So, frequently when he had passed the Fish house he had spoken
wheedlingly to the dog behind the fence, until the brute came to know
him and even thumped his tail once or twice in acknowledgment of a
friendly feeling.
Thus encouraged, Garry had gone further, sometimes tossing Roy special
tidbits that he had brought from his own table until the dog had been
completely won over and permitted Garry to caress his head through the
pickets of the fence.
Naturally, Garry had been careful to keep these advances from the
steely eye of Mr. Fish, so that the latter had not the slightest
inkling of the friendship that existed between his savage dog and the
hated "Grayson boy."
Jacob Fish rubbed his skinny hands together with satisfaction as he
viewed the situation.
"Now you'll stay there until I choose to let you come down," he
gloated, "and that'll be some time yet, I'm telling you. You'll have
to go without your supper, and you'll have time to think over what a
graceless scamp you are."
Garry said nothing.
Jacob Fish enjoyed his triumph for a few moments, and then, as the
chill evening air struck his bare head uncomfortably, he moved toward
the house.
"I'll be watching you from the window," he said as he moved away. "But
Roy will stay here to bear you company. I guess he'll hold you for a
while. He he!" And he cackled shrilly.
He went inside the house, and a moment later Garry saw him at a
window, where he had settled himself comfortably to enjoy the boy's
discomfiture.
Garry lowered himself to a branch only a few feet over the dog's
snapping jaws. The beast growled ominously.
"Hello, Roy!" Garry said, in the caressing tone he had always used
toward the animal. "What's the matter with you, old fellow! Don't you
know a friend when you see one?"
At sight and sound of him Roy seemed puzzled. The deep growl died in
his throat. His ears cocked forward inquiringly. He stepped about the
tree daintily, mincingly, as though about to play.
Garry, from the corner of his eye, saw that the change in the dog's
attitude had not been lost upon its master. Jacob Fish had started from
his chair and was staring bewilderedly at the two.
But Garry now was willing to stake all on a chance. He dropped quickly
to the ground and went up to Roy, putting his hand on his head in
friendly fashion.
"Good old boy!" he said. "I knew you wouldn't go back on a friend.
Thoroughbreds never do."
Roy snuggled up closer to him and rubbed against him.
With a face purple with suppressed fury, Jacob Fish threw up the window.
"Wh-what does this mean!" he sputtered. "Leave my dog alone, you young
scoundrel! Get out of here before I put you out."
"I'm going," said Garry calmly.
"You'd better!" shouted the man. "G-get out before I lose my t-temper."
Garry thought to himself that that temper had been lost some time
before. He gave a final pat to the dog's head and started toward the
gate.
His foot struck against something, and seeing that it was the football,
he picked it up and got out into the street. As he rounded the tall
hedge that closed in the Fish grounds he came face to face with his
twin sister, Ella, and her chum, Jane Danter.
"Oh, Garry," giggled Ella. "We saw you in the tree and thought you were
a new kind of bird. My, but you did look funny!"