Albert Payson Terhune

“ Back, before his unwieldy foe could gauge the distance for another rush at the man. And a keen nip in the bleeding nostrils balked still one more charge.
The bull, snorting with rage, suddenly changed his plan of campaign. Apparently his first ideas had been wrong. It was the man who could wait, and the dog that must be gotten out of the way.
Tenebris wheeled and made an express-train rush at Lad. The collie turned and fled. He did not flee with tail down, as befits a beaten dog. Brush wavingly aloft, he gamboled along at top speed, just a stride or two ahead of the pursuing bull. ”

“ The bull’s homicidal temper, no less than the dazzling price offered by Glure, had caused his owner to sell him to the transatlantic bidder.
A bull’s nose is the tenderest spot of his anatomy. Next to his eyes, he guards its safety most zealously. Thus, with a stout leading-bar between him and his conductor, Tenebris was harmless enough. ”

“ A stream of people were running down the meadow toward the river. Lad hated crowds. He made a loping detour of the nearest runners and sought to regain the spot where last he had seen the Mistress and Master. Also, if his luck held good, he might have still another bout with the man he had once treed. Which would be an ideal climax to a perfect day.
He found all the objects of his quest together. The groom, hysterical, was swaying on his feet, supported by Glure.
At sight of the advancing collie the bitten man cried aloud in fear and clutched his employer for protection. ”

“ You people are always telling about wonderful stunts of Lad’s. And that’s all the evidence there generally is to it.”
“No, Mr. Glure,” denied the Master, taking a strangle hold on his temper. “No. That’s not quite all the evidence that we have for our brag about Lad. For instance, we had the evidence of your own eyes when he herded that flock of stampeded prize sheep for you last spring, and of your own eyes again when he won the ‘Gold Hat’ cup at the Labor Day Dog Show. No, there’s plenty of evidence that Lad is worth his salt. Let it go at that. Shall we get back to the house? ”

“ The Mistress and the Master motored over to Glure Towers on the morning of the show in their one car. Lad went with them. He always went with them.
Not that any dog could hope to find interest in a cattle show, but a dog would rather go anywhere with his Master than to stay at home without him. Witness the glad alacrity wherewith the weariest dog deserts a snug fireside in the vilest weather for the joy of a master-accompanying walk. ”

“ Your ‘treasure’ is the harness thief Lad treed the day you came to see me. So—”
“Nonsense!” fumed Glure. “Why, how absurd! He—”
“I hadn’t stolen nothing!” blubbered the man. “I was coming cross-lots to a stable to ask for work. And the brute went for me. I had to run up a tree and—”
“And it didn’t occur to you to shout for help?” sweetly urged the Master. “I was within call. So was Mr. Glure. So was at least one of my men. An honest seeker for work needn’t have been afraid to halloo. A thief would have been afraid to. ”

“ A bull plunging at a near-by object shuts both eyes. A cow does not. Which may—or may not—explain the Spanish theory that bullfights are safer than cow-fights. To this eye-closing trait many a hard-pressed matador has owed his life.
Tenebris, both eyes screwed shut, hurled his 2000-pound bulk at the prostrate groom. Head down, nose in, short horns on a level with the earth and barely clearing it, he made his rush. ”

“ No one could deny he had bred these calves himself. They were born on his own place and of his own high-pedigreed cattle. Three breeds were represented among the trio of specimens. By points and by lineage they were well-nigh peerless. Wherefore the plan for a show of neighborhood “home-raised” cattle. At length Glure felt he was coming into his own.
The hinterland folk had fought shy of Glure since the dog show wherein he had sought to win the capital prize by formulating a set of conditions that could be filled by no entrant except a newly imported champion Merle of his own. ”

“ I’m with you.”
“Guy me if it amuses you,” said the Master.
“It does,” his guest informed him. “It amuses me to see any grown man think so much of a dog as you people think of Lad. It’s maudlin.”
“My house is the only one within a mile on this side of the lake that has never been robbed,” was the Master’s reply. “My stable is the only one in the same radius that hasn’t been rifled by harness-and-tire thieves. Thieves who seem to do their work in broad daylight, too, when the stables won’t be locked. I have Lad to thank for all that. He—”
The dog had darted far ahead. ”

“ It was lucky for Lad that he was standing when the knife was thrown for the aim was not bad, and a dog lying down cannot easily dodge. A dog standing on all fours is different, especially if he is a collie. ”

“ There was, in this hinterland stretch, a friendly and constant rivalry among the natives and other old residents in the matter of stock raising. Horses, cattle, pigs, chickens, even a very few sheep were bred for generations along lines which their divers owners had laid out—lines which those owners fervently believed must some day produce perfection. ”

“ Tell me more about the cattle show.”
“It’s a neighborhood affair,” said Glure sulkily, yet eager to secure any possible entrants. “Just a bunch of home-raised cattle. Cup and rosette for best of each recognized breed, and the usual ribbons for second and third. Three dollars an entry. Only one class for each breed. Every entrant must have been raised by the exhibitor. Gate admission fifty cents. Red Cross to get the gross proceeds. I’ve offered the use of my south meadow at Glure Towers—just as I did for the specialty dog show. I’ve put up a hundred dollars toward the running expenses too. ”

“ He might even have stolen more than the cost of our non-utilitarian Lad’s keep,” unkindly suggested the Master. “For that matter, if it hadn’t been for a non-utilitarian dog, that mad bull’s horns, instead of his nostrils, would be red by this time. At least one man would have been killed. ”

“ They’re true, loyal, companionable chums, and they’re an ornament to The Place as well as its best safeguard. All in return for table scraps and skim milk and less than a weekly dollar’s worth of stale bread and cast-off butcher-shop bones. ”