Harold Titus

“ He never ventured to make open advances when others were in sight. There was his pride!
The pride, however, came to be concerned only with Tom and Lola; not with his relations to the baby at all. Young Tom liked bones; that was another bond, and recognition of it occasioned Beau's first act of stealthy homage. The baby, safe behind his gate on the porch, was licking a bald chicken drumstick. The dog, hiding in the shrubbery, watched for a time, and then skulked off into the back yard, dug hastily to unearth an ancient but choice bone put by against a time of want. ”

“ A kennel, run as Billing ran Wentworth's, is no place for a dog that is enthusiastically alive, whose every impulse is friendly action. Billing wanted to rear Beau Brummel a gentleman, which meant, among a few nice things, continual restraint, constant attempts to defeat his most genuine intentions and keep him steadily dignified—when the thing the terrier wanted was anything but steadiness and dignity! ”

“ TOM commenced to call for more water to quench brands that fell on the lodge roof; the excitement increased. Then the dog stiffened with interest, not at the shouting or activity about the house, but at a scurrying, rather unsteady small figure which ran through the smoke. It was Tom junior making for the gate as he had done so unsuccessfully many times before. Beau looked toward the house, expecting to see some one dart after the baby and thwart his purpose or else go with him, humoring the impulse that led the youngster afar. ”

“ So they came upon him, and the game-warden held Tom Heddon back as, driven mad, he seized and swung a heavy oak limb to strike the terrier down.
“Man, he's not hurting him, he's saving him!” the warden cried, as he stooped. “See, he ain't hurt, his face ain't even scratched! There! He's crying again!”
Heddon, speechless, a-tremble with fright and relief, lifted his child, and the warden stooped to take the terrier's muzzle in his grim hands as Beau, worn to exhaustion, lay on his belly, tongue drooling. ”

“ The explanation was a bundle which at times was very quiet and at others extremely rackety, but always it was the center of interest; and Tom and Lola lavished so many superlatives on the bundle, which was Tom junior, that Beau in the course of a short time was thoroughly disgusted with it and them. At least, so he appeared. Jealously often feigns disgust.
Lola remained up-stairs a long time and the nurse would not let Beau in to see her. When she was carried down, the dog was so delighted that he cavorted about the room in a scramble and ended before her with a glad barking. ”

“ Evans worked through the brush plowing a strip about the property and the men remained close, ready for an emergency. The wind picked up.
The falling ashes grew to small, smoking brands. Buckets were filled and Evans stationed on the roof of the big house to watch for sparks that might mean real danger. The wind was a gale and carried heat.
The warden came back through the smoke, his car hung with tired, grimy men.
“The wind's got the best of us back yonder,” he said. “Got plenty of water for your buildings? We'll make a stand at your fire-break and the road here. ”

“ Why, man, the country's afire on both sides of you. No. There's no danger if you sit tight; we've help enough for the work here.”
There was confusion and growing anxiety. An hour later they could hear the crackle of the fire as it licked toward them through the timber.
Tom and the doctor remained with the women while the other men joined the fire-fighters in the forest. When people spoke, they did so in loud voices.
Throughout all this, Beau sat in the doorway of Evans's cabin. He would thrust his nose low and look at figures as they hastened through the smoke ”

“ People spoke to him, but only because he was of such quality that his importance carried to the understanding of those who did not know dogs; consequently what they said was what the novice always says, and he sat on his table with an air that approached boredom. ”

“ Doesn't everybody who loves dogs love a good dog story? Here is one—with a high-bred human-hearted little bull-pup for hero, losing and regaining his place at the crowded hearthstone. How he did it makes one of Harold Titus's best stories of this Western forest country which he knows so well. ”