"Why, I'll get homes for them, like these others."
"That won't do, Smith. Either you've got to take care of the work as you are ordered, or else let some other man have your place. What are you going to do about it?"
Smith's hand rumpled the fur on Jan's back. The eyes of the dog and the old man met, then the poundmaster lifted his head and said quietly, "I will give up the place. I thought when I took this work that it would give me a chance to make some poor dumb brutes a little happier and more comfortable, but I never intended to shoot one of them. Why, I couldn't do that. They're all my friends!"
"All right," was the answer. "Suit yourself. We'll have another man take charge to-morrow morning."
Without further words the men left, and the captain, followed by Jan, went into the back yard where the ten dogs rushed to meet them. Barking, leaping, tumbling over each other, they struggled to get close to the old man who stood smiling and patting them, while he said softly, "The best friends a man ever had, Jan."
Prince Jan looked at the bunch of dogs, little dogs, big dogs, curs, and dogs of high breeding. No matter where they had come from, they had found a protector in the old poundmaster, but they did not know that he had given up his position because he would not kill them. Even Jan did not know what his master was writing that evening. It took some time to get the letter just right, then it was folded, placed in an envelope, sealed and stamped, and Jan walked with the captain to the letter-box several blocks away.
When they were home again, the old man sat smoking his pipe and nodding, then he got up and wound the clock, for it was Saturday night. As he put the key on top of the clock, he said, "Well, Jan, we'll have to hunt for another job on Monday, but I don't think it will take long for us to find something we can do."
Monday morning people came for the dogs, and the captain patted each of his four-footed friends, before it went to its new home. A man from a ranch brought an automobile, and into this the five dogs which had not yet found permanent homes were lifted. Then the captain took out his worn pocketbook and counted money, which he handed to the rancher.
"Take good care of them for me," said the old man, "and I'll pay for their food until we find homes for them all."
"All right, Smith," the man answered, and then he drove away with the yelping dogs.