“Well, Skipper, as I was agoin’ to say, I had with me a big hound, one that had followed me on my trips ever since he was a puppy. A prospector had given him to me when I was sluicing for gold on Rainbow Creek. He was a smooth, black-skinned dog, with stubby ears, and a jaw on him like a prize fighter. He was equal to anything in a fight short of a grizzly, and I valued his company considerable, I can tell you.”
“I should like to have seen a scrap between him and Captain Graves’ Santa Anna.” (This was on the back trail when the Frontier Boys were in Colorado), said Juarez.
“Get Jo and Tom to mixing it,” laughed Jim, “and you’ll have some idea of what it would be like.”
At this point the boys were surprised to see Jeems become angry at Juarez’s innocent interruption. It was the first time that the boys had ever seen Jeems Howell anything but good-natured, no matter what happened, or what prank was played on him. But, as Jo remarked later, “Human nature is a mighty uncertain business, and everybody has got a cranky spot in ’em if you just happen to strike it at the explosive time.” Which is a mighty true observation, which you can prove to your own satisfaction any day in the week. The writer being example No. 1, and you, indulgent reader, example No. 2.
Jim and Juarez, by their combined and genial efforts, pulled Jeems out of the sulks and on to his own sunny level once more. Then he took up his narrative again.
“Well, boys, it don’t seem that I have got any right to criticize that black hound’s temper, considering my own.”
“Anybody is apt to get riled once in a lifetime, Jeems,” said Jim, “even Tom here has been known to act up occasionally.” Tom joined in the laugh because he had a notoriously quick temper, and complete serenity was restored.
“That hound would never make friends with anyone except me,” continued Jeems, “and I could always depend on his watchfulness to warn me of the approach of any marauder. It was a wild country, and with bad Indians and worse white men you always had to be on your guard. Still on this night I tell ye of, the storm was so wild and fierce that I did not believe anyone would be abroad who had any sort of a place to stay in.
“Before turning in, I stepped outside to see how things were going. The hound followed close on my heels. I closed the door tight and stood in the darkness with my old gray hat pulled down close around my head. I could scarcely see. The snow was swirling from the ledge above my cabin, and was blown out in great sheets into the night.