“Wa-a-a-a! Yah-a-a-a-a!” comes a voice from inside near where I’m fussing with a window.
It sure gives me an idea. Without the evidence—if the kid is evidence—they can’t do no more than let Magpie loose. So I slips the window open easy-like and slips over the sill.
It’s almighty dark in there, but I can see a thread of light shining through the crack in the door, and I hears the woman say:
“Set still, you villain! You deserve everything you’ve got coming.”
“I bow to superior wisdom, ma’am,” says Magpie.
Just then I finds what I seek. It gives a little squeak as I pick it up, but I hugs it to my bosom and starts for the window—and then I stepped on a dog!
Looking back on the episode, I’m of the opinion that the dog must ’a’ been deaf, dumb and blind—but not suffering from lockjaw. Maybe it was one of them family heirlooms you’ll find now and then laying around in a cabin, soaking up heat and odorizing the atmosphere with every smell that old dog age is heir to. Anyway, this dog still retained its youthful audibility and a certain degree of mastication, ’cause it grabbed me by the leg just above my boot and hung on.
Such a condition made it hard for Ike Harper to show much speed. Here I am with a baby in my arms, a dog half-way up my lap filling the air with choking barks, and me trying to tip myself over far enough to fall out of the window.
I’ve got my belt line over the sill when the door flies open and a voice yelps—
“Sic’ ’em, Nero!”