THE CONQUEST OF ACHILLES
Jerry's prediction proved to be quite true for as His Highness neared
the garage a hum of activity pervaded it. Four mud-caked cars stood in
the driveway and chauffeurs in their shirt sleeves hurried in and out
the building, shouting to one another and carrying in their hands
grimy rags and cans of oil. A short half hour had transformed the
quiet spot to a beehive of noise and bustle. The rush seemed
contagious for wherever one looked moving figures could be seen. Some
crossed the lawn bearing belated satchels or traveling wraps which in
the confusion had found their way into the wrong place; some strode
toward the boathouse, some toward the garden, some to the stables. Men
appeared to have risen through the earth so quickly had their numbers
multiplied.
No longer was there the leisurely loitering and smoking that had
marked the week before. A spirit of activity was infused into the air
until even those who had no cause to hurry scrambled with the rest.
As Walter approached the garage he was waylaid by a young chauffeur
with rosy cheeks and a crisp, pleasant voice:
"Say, youngster, don't you want to lend a hand with these cushions?"
interrogated he, beaming ingratiatingly. "They have got to be beaten
and brushed before they can go back in the car. Chuck them over on the
floor for me, won't you?"
"Sure!" was the ready answer. "I'll beat them for you if you like."
"You're a good-natured little cuss," grinned the man. "I'm not asking
you to do that, though."
"But I'd be glad to."
"Suit yourself. But in my opinion you are a fool to take on jobs you
are not hired to do and get no money for."
"Oh, I don't care about the money."
"You don't, eh?" chimed in the derisive note of another chauffeur who
had at the instant come out of the doorway. "Say, who are you, anyway?
One of the Vanderbilts?"
"Quit heckling the young one, Peters," put in the chauffeur of the red
cheeks. "He's a good sort, all right."
"Ha, ha, Wheeler! You think that because you've jollied him into doing
your work for you, you old shirk."
"I didn't jolly him into anything. He offered."
"A likely story."
"But he did."
"Then you should have told him better," sniffed the other. "You know
well enough it isn't etiquette round here to do a stroke of work for
anybody else or accept a stroke. _Every man for himself_ is the
motto."
"But that's a rotten way!" Walter ejaculated impulsively. "I'd hate to
live like that--never being willing to help anybody or ask them to
help me."
The man called Peters gave him a contemptuous stare.
"You'll find there's no whining or asking help of other people here,"
announced he, with a sneer. "Those that are darn fools enough to get
into holes get out of them as best they can. It's their hunt."
Spitting emphatically on the ground he proceeded to go into the garage
with the tire he was carrying.
Walter took up a stick he saw lying near by.
"What are you going to do?" demanded the red-cheeked man, regarding
him with unconcealed surprise.
"Beat the cushions."
"But--but--heavens, sonny! Didn't you hear what Peters said?"
"Of course I heard. I don't have to sign up to a creed like that,
though, if I don't want to, do I?"
"We all do. We agree neither to borrow, lend, nor ask favors."
"I'm afraid I shan't make one of the gang then," observed Walter, with
a smile so good-humored that the words could not offend.
"Then the more fool you, that is all I can say," laughed Wheeler. "By
the end of a month you won't have so much as a collar button to your
name. Everything you own will be gone, especially your tools. We're a
lot of pirates. I give you fair warning."
"I'm not afraid you'll want much that I've got," grinned Walter.
The upraised stick descended in a series of rhythmic blows, sending
into the air a cloud of dust.
"Where's the brush?" panted the boy, when he had beaten until his arm
ached.
"Say, kid, I'm not going to have you breaking your back over my job,"
asserted Wheeler in a friendly tone.
"I'm not breaking my back."
"But what on earth are you doing it _for_?" questioned the man, his
eyes narrowing with curiosity.
"I don't know myself," returned the lad shyly. "It was just the way I
was brought up, I guess."
For an interval only the sweeping of the brush broke the stillness.
"I was brought up to be decent, too," observed Wheeler slowly, "but
somehow since I've been knocking round I've got to be an awful brute.
There isn't any very high standard among the crowd I mix in. Still,
I'm afraid that isn't much of an excuse for shifting back into a
savage." He paused thoughtfully, then added, "I'm much obliged to you,
sonny, for your help, and just to show you I don't forget it, sometime
when you are hard put hunt me up and ask me to give you a lift. I'm a
human being though you may not think so."
With a little glow at his heart Walter moved away toward the kennels.
He had made a friend, and in this new environment where he was
conscious of being very much of an outsider the consciousness brought
him a sense of comradeship and happiness.
It was fortunate, however, that his altruism had detained him no
longer for before he reached the spot where the dogs were to be
quartered he heard a chorus of sharp yelps and saw what appeared to be
a dozen dogs coming across the lawn accompanied by Mrs. Crowninshield
and two of the stablemen. Some of the pack were being led, while
others, wild with joy at finding themselves unconfined, leaped and
capered wildly about their mistress. A great police dog, straining at
the leash, gave Walter a thrill of mingled admiration and timidity. He
was a huge creature with mottled coat and mighty jaws, and within his
open mouth, from which lolled his red tongue, were cruel white teeth
that could do unthinkable things. His wide brown eyes, his pointing
tail, his upright ears moving with every sound, his alert poise all
bespoke keenness and intelligence. A dog one would far rather have for
an ally than an enemy, thought the boy.
Beside pranced two Airedales and a white Sealyham and to their babel
of barking was added the shrill, sympathetic note of five or six
Pekingese, one of which Mrs. Crowninshield carried under her arm.
"Hush, Achilles!" she cried. "Hush, all of you! Stop your racket this
instant! They are excited at being together again," explained she to
Walter who had approached. "The Belgian and Airedales have been
boarded out during the winter and have not seen the others for months.
So, you see, this is a sort of reunion for them and they have to bark
to show their delight. Moreover, they have had a long trip and are
tired and hungry. I am going to feed them now and this meal will last
most of them until to-morrow at the same hour."
"Are they fed only once a day?" gasped Walter.
"That is all. You see you will not have many meals to prepare,"
laughed Mrs. Crowninshield. "Only the Peeks have breakfast, but only
part of a square of puppy biscuit or some bread; so it is very simple.
Dinner, however, is much more complicated and later I shall give you
your directions as to just what every dog must have; to-night we are
to treat the lot to some raw meat, toast, and spinach."
"You'll let me help you," pleaded Walter.
"Certainly. That is why I came out. I want you to feed the dogs and
learn their names. In order to get on with them you must get
acquainted with them and understand the peculiarities of each one.
They are just persons, you know, and have their little whims and
queernesses. But kindness will win them to you very quickly. It is far
better than a whip. So is feeding. A dog usually obeys the person who
feeds him. He is afraid not to."
As she spoke she entered the wired enclosure and putting the smaller
dogs in half of it and shutting the wicket gate upon them she told the
men to slip the leashes from the collars of the others. In a second
the Belgian, Airedales, and the fluffy Sealyham were bounding about
her. Then she beckoned to Walter.
"This is Achilles," went on she, with her hand on the head of the
great monster. "He is as gentle and kind as a kitten, although he does
look as if he could swallow us alive. Don't touch him but stand still
and let him sniff you all over. It is his way of getting acquainted."
Obediently the boy remained motionless while the panting jaws and
moist black nose of the dog came nearer. He could feel the creature's
hot breath on his hands, face, and hair. Then over his clothing moved
the quivering nostrils. At length the brown eyes met his and he
whispered softly:
"Achilles!"
The dog wagged his tail.
"You have nothing to fear from him now," announced Mrs. Crowninshield.
"The Airedales are Jack Horner and Boy Blue. And the Sealyham, Miss
Nancy's dog, is called Rags."
Sensing that he was being talked about, the dog blinked with friendly
eyes at Walter through its mop of coarse white hair.
"In the other pen," continued Mrs. Crowninshield, "are the Pekingese
pups and I shall expect you to take the best of care of them. They are
sensitive little creatures and very valuable. I myself, however, care
very little for the money value of a dog. It is the lovable traits it
has that interest me. I should adore wee Lola, here, if she were not
worth a cent. But Mr. Crowninshield likes to own blue ribbon dogs and
enter them at the shows and therefore I will caution you that Lola,
Mimi, and Fifi," as she spoke she pointed out the dogs in question,
"cost quite a fortune and their loss or illness would be a great
calamity. So you must follow the directions concerning them most
carefully. And should any question arise about them come at once to
me."
As she spoke she occasionally glanced at the boy beside her with a
quick, bright smile.
"I shall have the menu for each dog sent you every day--at least for
the present--together with directions as to how to prepare the meal as
it should be prepared. The meat for the small dogs must be put through
a meat chopper and no gristle allowed to get into it; the larger dogs
can have bigger pieces, and Achilles a bone. You will find in the room
inside an ice chest in which to keep such foods as spoil. There are
also glassed-in shelves where tins of various kinds of dog bread and
puppy biscuit will be stored that they may be out of the dampness. You
are not to trouble the servants at the big house for anything. They do
not like to be interfered with. All your supplies will be here, and
you can warm whatever it is necessary to heat on your small electric
stove. Be sure to scald out the dishes after they have been used; and
also never forget to keep the bowls filled with plenty of fresh
water."
"I will, ma'am."
"I am sure you will," returned Mrs. Crowninshield kindly. "And do not
worry if it takes a little time to win all the dogs over to your
authority. Dogs are like children when they change masters. They will
try to play it on you at first. Just be firm with them and soon you
will have them tagging at your heels, docile as lambs."
The task of preparing the food was soon completed and the mistress
looked on and encouraged while Walter doled it out to the famished
animals.
How daintily the wee dogs coquetted with what was given them! And how
greedily the larger ones gobbled down their allowance and lapped the
plate for more! Achilles, crouched on the lawn with his bone, crunched
it with terrifying zeal, cracking the big joint between his jaws as if
it were made of paper. His dinner devoured he ambled over toward
Walter, once more sniffed his shoes and clothing, at last nestled his
moist nose against the boy's hand.
"I think you have won Achilles to your colors already," said Mrs.
Crowninshield.
"He does seem friendly," returned His Highness, more pleased by the
dog's good will than he would have been willing to own.
"Achilles can be very friendly when he chooses," retorted his owner.
"He can also be quite the reverse. You should see him sometime when he
is on the scent of a foe. Last summer when a man broke into the
boathouse it transformed Achilles into a lion. I was certain he would
kill the fellow; as it was he mauled him badly before we could coax
him off. The thief almost died of fright and I do not wonder. He did
not need any further punishment."
She unfastened the gate to go back to the house.
Immediately there was a rush.
"No, you can't come, not one of you," declared she, addressing the
yelping pack through the netting. "I have far too much to do to be
bothered with any of you. Be good and take a nap. You're tired enough
to rest."
Still the animals barked, rebellious at their captivity.
"When I am out of sight you can let Achilles out," called she, as she
moved away. "He can be trusted to roam the place and always does when
we're here. The Airedales and the Sealyham can also run about alone as
soon as they get used to obeying you. But the little dogs must never
be let off the leash unless they are watched every instant, for
something might happen to them."
"I'll be careful."
"That's right; do."
The woman gave him a pleasant nod of farewell and walked with
springing step back in the direction of the house. As she went Walter
saw her halt and speak to old Tim, who was at work in the rose garden,
and beheld the gardener leap proudly forward to cut for her a blossom
she had evidently admired.
It was even as Jerry had said. She was the idol of Surfside.
After she had disappeared he opened the wicket and stepped out,
letting Achilles follow him.
Instantly the great creature put his nose to the ground and with a
joyous bark he was gone in search of his mistress.
It was now or never with the new master of the hounds.
The lad whistled but the dog did not turn. Again he gave a quick call.
This time the rushing beast paused, looked round, and then slackening
his pace, continued to jog along on his way.
Helplessly the boy saw him go farther and farther out of reach.
He must compel obedience somehow.
"Achilles!" shouted he sternly. "Achilles! Back, sir!"
Although he uttered the words he had not the slightest faith they
would have any effect and was amazed to see the dog waver in his
tracks.
"Achilles, come here!" repeated he sharply.
With reluctance the dog turned and looked at him.
"Here, sir!" called Walter, with coaxing cadence.
The dog continued to regard him intently but he did not move. Then
suddenly there was a rush and with panting jaws widespread the Belgian
came bounding toward him. It was not until he was close at hand that
he abated his speed. Then he came to the side of his new master and
gently laid his cold nose on his sleeve.
Walter patted the great head affectionately.
The battle was won. He had conquered Achilles.