“I reckon Maje has seen Fluff too often, for I’ve caught him looking in when the doors were open. Most likely he’s made up his mind that young Foster has come to stay, an’ don’t intend to pay any attention to him. You can let your dog have the run of the station from this out Benny.”
It did really seem that there was no reason to fear Maje might be tempted to do mischief, and Benny turned to go into the building, for the lamps and lanterns were yet to be trimmed.
The men arose to attend to the varied duties of the day, and for an instant the attention of all was diverted from the animals.
It was as if Maje had been waiting for just such an opportunity. In a twinkling, and with an agility that one would hardly have given him credit for, he seized Fluff by the neck, tossing him like a ball several feet in the air.
This done, he walked away quickly, evidently knowing what would be the result if he lingered there many seconds.
Fluff howled dismally while he was yet in the air, and, once on his feet again, ran to Benny for protection, grumbling and whimpering as if making complaint against such uncourteous treatment.
Sam Hardy and Joe Cushing turned instantly to pursue Maje; but Benny, holding Fluff tightly in his arms, begged of them not to punish the big dog.
“Of course he’s jealous, an’ it’ll only make him worse if you whip him. Please let him alone; I’m certain Fluff isn’t hurt any.”
“He howled as if his throat was cut,” Sam said laughingly, as he relinquished the pursuit in accordance with Benny’s request, and Joe Cushing set about examining Fluff.
“He hasn’t got so much as a scratch,” was the report. “I reckon the worst that came to him was a big scare, an’ I don’t wonder at his bein’ a bit afraid after such a rough handling.”