A moment later it was lifted defiantly.
“But he shan’t. He shall not! Nobody shall ever, ever take our Max away! Why—why—it wouldn’t be the Place without him! Why—why—the children—Oh! Nettie! oh! Tom!” and catching sight of a group of playmates Bonny-Gay darted toward them, calling as she ran: “They’re going to take him away! They’re going to take him away!”
Tom planted his feet wide apart upon the smooth path and obstructed her advance.
“Take who away, Bonny-Gay? Where to? When?”
“Max! Our Max! He can never come here any more. This is his last day in our park—his very last!” and the child flung herself headlong upon the shaven grass, for once regardless of rules.
Not so regardless was Max, the trusty. It didn’t matter to him that this was Bonny-Gay, his best-loved playmate, or that her frantic sorrow was all on his account. What he saw was his duty and he did it, instantly. From a distance the Gray Gentleman watched the dog race toward the prostrate little girl and shake her short skirts vigorously, loosing them now and then to bark at her with equal vigor.
Presently she sprang up and to the footpath, and again indulged in a wild embrace of the faithful canine. Indeed, he was at once the center of an ever-increasing company of small people, who seemed to vie with each other in attempts to hug his breath away and to outdo everybody in the way of fierce indignation. Finally, this assembly resolved itself into an advancing army, and with Tom and Bonny-Gay as leaders—each tightly holding to one of the dog’s soft ears, as they marched him between them—they returned to the spot where the lion calmly awaited them, and Tom announced their decision:
“We won’t ever let him go. There’s no need for you nor the law-men nor nobody to interfere. This dog belongs to this park; and this park belongs to us children; and if anybody tries to—tries to—to—do—things—he won’t never be let! So there! And if he is, we’ll—we’ll augernize; and we’ll get every boy and girl in all the streets around to come, too; and we’ll all go march to where the law-men live; and we won’t never, never leave go talking at them till they take it all back. ’Cause Max isn’t going to be took. That’s the fact, Mr. Weems, and you can just tell them so.”
“Yes,” cried Nettie, “and my big brother goes to the law school and he’ll suesan them. And my big sister’s friends will help; and if he does have to, I’ll never, never—NEVER—play in this hateful old park ever again. I will not!”
“Whew!” whistled the Gray Gentleman, softly. “This looks serious. A children’s crusade, indeed. Well, that should be irresistible.” And this old lover of all little people looked admiringly over the group of flushed and indignant faces; and at the noble animal which was the very center of it, and whose silent protest was the most eloquent of all. His own heart echoed their indignation and he quietly resolved to make an effort on their and Max’s behalf.