Part 35

"What are you going to do with that dog?" yelled Percy after him. But as well talk to the wind, as Joel arrived hot and breathless at the big door long before him.

Luckily for him, none of the boys were about; and Joel, cramming the dog well under his jacket, plunged up the stairs, and down the hall to his room.

"Joe!" roared two or three voices; but he turned a deaf ear, and got in safely; slammed to the door, and then drew a long breath.

"Whew! Almost caught that time," was all he had the wind to say. "Well, now, it's good Dave isn't in, 'cause I can tell him slowly, and get him used to it." All this time he was drawing out his dog from its place of refuge, and putting it first on the bed, then on the floor, to study it better.

It certainly was as far removed from being even a good-looking dog as possible. Having never in its life had the good fortune to hear its pedigree spoken of, it was simply an ill-favored cur that looked as if it had exchanged the back yard of a tenement house for the greater dangers of the open street. Its yellow neck was marked where a cruel cord had almost worn into the flesh, and every one of its ribs stuck out as Joel had said, till they insisted on being counted by a strict observer.

Joel threw his arms around the beast. "Oh dear!" he groaned, "you're starved to death. What have I got to give you?" He wrinkled his forehead in great distress. "Oh goody!" He snatched the dog up, and bore him to the closet, then pulled down a box from the shelf above. "Mamsie's cake--how prime!" And not stopping to cut a piece, he broke off a goodly wedge. "Now then, get in with you," and he thrust him deep into one corner, cramming the cake up to his nose. "Stay there on my side, and don't get over on Dave's shoes. Whee!"

The dog, in seizing the cake, had taken Joel's thumb as well.

"Let go there," cried Joel; "well, you can't swallow my thumb," as the cake disappeared in one lump; and he gave a sigh for the plums with which Mamsie always liberally supplied the school cakes, now disappearing so fast, as much as for the nip he had received.

The dog turned his black, beady eyes sharply for more cake. When he saw that it wasn't coming, he licked Joel's thumb; and in his cramped quarters on top of a heap of shoes and various other things not exactly classified, he tried hard to wag his stump of a tail.

"Whickets! there goes that bell! Now see here, don't you dare to stir for your life! You've got to stay in this closet till to-morrow--then I'll see what to do for you. Lie down, I tell you."

There was a small scuffle; and then the dog, realizing here was a master, curled himself on top of some tennis shoes, and looked as if he held his breath.

"All right," said Joel, with an approving pat. "Now don't you yip, even if Dave opens this door." Then he shut it carefully, and rushed off down to the long dining-room to the crowd of boys.

Joel ate his supper as rapidly as possible, lost to the chatter going on around him. He imagined, in his feverishness, that he heard faint "yaps" every now and then; and he almost expected to see everybody lay down knife and fork.

"What's the matter with you?" He was aroused by seeing the boy next to him lean forward to peer into his face. And in a minute he was conscious that on the other side he was just as much of an object of attention. He buried his face in his glass of milk; but when he took it out, they were staring still the same.

"Ugh! stop your looking at me," growled Joel.

"What's the matter with you, anyway?" asked the other boy.

"Get away--nothing," said Joel crossly, and bestowing as much of a kick as he dared on the other boy's shin.

"Ow! There is too."

"You're awfully funny," said the first boy, "you haven't spoken a word since you sat down."

"Well, I ain't going to talk, if I don't want to," declared Joel. "Do stop, Fletcher; everybody's looking."

But Fletcher wouldn't stop, and Joel had the satisfaction of seeing the whole table, with the under-teacher, Mr. Harrow, at the head, making him, between their mouthfuls, the centre of observation. The only alleviation of this misery was that Percy was at another table, and with his back to him.

David looked across in a worried way. "Are you sick, Joe?" he asked.

"No." Joel laughed, and began to eat busily. When he saw that, David gave a sigh of relief.

Mr. Harrow was telling something just then that seemed of more than common interest, and the boys, hearing Joel laugh once more, turned off to listen. "Yes," said the under-teacher, "it was a dog that was--"

"Ugh!" cried Joel. "Oh, beg pardon," and his face grew dreadfully red, as he tried to get as small as possible on his chair.

"It's a dog I used to own, Joel," said Mr. Harrow, smiling at him. "And I taught him tricks, several quite remarkable ones."

"Yes, sir," mumbled Joel, taking a big bite of his biscuit; and for the next quarter of an hour he was safe, as the funny stories lasted till back went the chairs, and the evening meal was over.

To say that Joel's life was an easy one till bedtime, would be very far from the truth. Strange to say, David did not go to the closet once. To be sure, there was a narrow escape that made Joel's heart leap to his mouth.