Jack, the Fire Dog

He then questioned the children, who told him about the lame pigeon who made them follow him, and who flew up to a window of the big house where they saw Billy’s mother.

“I am sure it was Billy’s mother,” said Hannah, positively, “because I minded her hair and the look of her face.”

Mr. Ledwell turned back, and going in to the hospital made inquiries concerning the sick woman the children had seen at the window. They were not mistaken, and in a few minutes Billy was in his mother’s arms.

After the excitement of the meeting had passed, Billy told his mother all that had happened since the dreadful day when she was taken away from him. He told of the kind children who had given him all they had to give, a shelter and what food they could spare, and how Jack the Fire-Dog saved his life. He told, too, about the kind-hearted firemen and his life at the engine-house, and about Sam and his grandpapa and the comfortable home he now had.

The poor woman could not find words to thank the kind gentleman who had done so much for her blind son, and when she tried to express her gratitude to him, he told her the best way to do it was to get well as fast as possible and come and live with her son.

“I am anxious to find work, so that I can take care of him,” said the sick woman. “As soon as I am well I am sure I can find something to do.”

“The first thing to be done is to get strong,” said Mr. Ledwell, “and then we will think about working. I propose that as soon as you are well enough you go to Billy, where you can have the best of care. You will improve much faster there than you can here, surrounded by sickness and suffering.”

The patient was pronounced not able to leave the hospital just then, but was promised that she should go so soon as it was deemed prudent.

So Billy took leave of his mother, happy at the promise of a visit the next day. They found Sam with the three children seated in the sleigh, and the new sled tied to one of the runners.

“I thought we had better take the children home, because they were afraid they would be late to their Christmas dinner,” Sam explained. “Do you think they will crowd you very much, Grandpapa? We will squeeze as close together as we can, and Maysie is almost a baby, you know.”

“I shouldn’t mind a little crowding on Christmas Day,” said Grandpapa. “Here, Baby, you can sit in my lap.”

“I am as big as Johnny,” replied Maysie, who was ambitious to be considered big.

Sam looked just as happy as Billy, thinking that the little blind boy had found his mother. He sat silent for some time, and his grandpapa, seeing his thoughtful, happy face, said,—

“Well, Sam, what are you thinking about?”

“I am thinking how glad I am that Billy has found his mother,” he replied, “and I guess God thought He’d send this Christmas present because He didn’t find time to send the one I asked for.”

So Sam’s Christmas turned out to be a much happier one than he had thought it was going to be, and the three children who had helped bring about this happy state of affairs reached home just as the big turkey was taken out of the oven.

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH

IT is some time since we have heard from the engine-house, and a change has taken place since we last looked in. The off horse was quite old, and the headlong speed at which the horses were obliged to go whenever an alarm was sounded, began to tell heavily on him. He was an ambitious fellow, and strained every nerve to keep pace with his mates and do his share of the work, but he was a tired horse when the scene of the fire was reached, and soon an order came for the off horse to give up his place to a younger and stronger one.

This order filled the kind hearts of the company with sorrow, for old Jim was a great favorite. When the news reached them, there was silence for a while, then warm-hearted Reordan burst out impetuously,—

“If old Jim goes, I go too. There isn’t one of us that has done his work faithfuller than old Jim has!”

“That’s so, he’s done his duty right slap up. What would the others be without old Jim, I’d like to know? They always take their cue from him,” said another.

“I’ve always made it as easy as I could for old Jim,” said the driver, “and have done my best to make the other two do their share of the work; but the knowing old fellow won’t have it, and isn’t satisfied unless his nose is just a grain ahead of the others, so he can feel he is doing his share and a little more.”

“He’s acted just like a Christian,” said another, “and if we do our duty as well as old Jim has done his, we sha’n’t have anything to answer for.”

“Get rid of him!” exclaimed a young man. “A nice return to make for his faithful service! It makes me sick to think how horses are turned off when they begin to lose their usefulness! Just think of old Jim sold to some old junk pedler or such, and being starved and beaten after all the good work he has done! It wouldn’t break the Fire Department to pension him, and they ought to do it!”

“They ought to, but whether they will is another thing,” said Reordan. “They will say that they can’t afford to pension off all the old horses in the department.”

“Well, if they can’t afford it, we can,” replied the young man. “What do you say to starting a fund for old Jim’s support, and boarding him out for the rest of his life?”

What could they say, but one thing, for courage and generosity go hand in hand, and to men who daily risk their lives to save those of others, as do our brave firemen, a dollar doesn’t look so big as it does to smaller natures.

After this decision the hearts of all were lightened, but parting with their old friend came hard.

“Let’s get him out of the way before the new horse comes,” said Reordan. “It would hurt his feelings to see a new horse in the stall that has been his for so long.”

The others felt as Reordan did, and just before the new horse arrived, old Jim came out of his stall for the last time. The intelligent creature turned his eyes on the men gathered to bid him farewell, and rubbed his nose affectionately against the shoulders of those who stood nearest him.

“He knows he’s being sent off just as well as we do,” said one, “and he’s trying to say good-bye to us.”

He certainly did know it, for his large, mild eyes had the sorrowful look that all dumb creatures have at leaving old friends.

“He looks kind of reproachful,” said one, “just as if he thought we hadn’t appreciated the good work he’s done for us.”

The men had bought a warm blanket for the old horse, knowing that he was going to a country stable which was not so warm as his stall in the engine-house. This was buckled on him, and he was led away. At the door he hesitated a moment, and looked back at his old home; then, with drooping head, he left for his new quarters.

“Be good to him,” said the captain to the man who had come to take the old horse to his new home. “The best you’ve got isn’t any too good for old Jim.”

“We’ll take good care of him,” replied the man. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

They watched the old horse so long as he was in sight, and nothing was said for some time. Then Reordan spoke,—

“Well, it’s a comfort to think we’ve done the best we could for the old horse. He’ll have plenty to eat and a good place to sleep in, and he will have as comfortable an old age as we can give him.”

Jack the Fire-Dog had, of course, known what was going on, and his heart was every bit as sad as the men’s.

“I suppose I’m a fool to feel so bad about it,” he confided to his friend Boxer, “but I can’t help it. We’ve been to a good many fires together, first and last, old Jim and I. My turn will come next, I suppose. I’m not so young as I once was, and old dogs are in the way.”

Such remarks as these had a most depressing effect upon his friend Boxer, for there is no dog more attached to his friends and more sympathetic than a bull-dog, although he is so reserved that he does not find it easy to express his feelings.

Boxer pondered over the situation, and the more he thought about it the more convinced he became that something must be done. He was on hand when the old engine-horse was taken away from the home that had been his for so long, and, as he looked at his friend Jack’s mournful face and heard him softly crying to himself, Boxer could bear it no longer.

“It is true that they will be sending him away next,” he muttered to himself; and as his indignation increased he cast his eyes about for something upon which to vent his anger. The man leading old Jim away caught his attention, and without stopping to consider the justice of his act, in true bull-dog fashion he rushed after them and seized the man by the leg of his trousers.

A commotion at once arose. Old Jim, startled at the sudden attack, started back, twitching the halter-rope out of the man’s hand, while the man struggled to free his leg from the bull-dog’s grip.

A bull-dog’s grip is a very peculiar thing. When he becomes excited, his jaws, which are very strong and formed differently from those of other dogs, become tightly locked. A spasm of the jaw seizes him, and it is impossible for him to unlock them himself until the spasm has passed. So Boxer held on, with his eyes set and his feet braced.

Now that old Jim was free, he stood still and looked on to see how the affair was coming out. He was not the only spectator, for quite a crowd collected at once. Varied was the advice given to make the bull-dog loose his grip, and poor Boxer would have been roughly handled had not Reordan seen the commotion and run to the spot. In a twinkling he had out a sulphur match, and, lighting it, held it as near the dog’s nose as he could without burning it.

The suffocating fumes of the sulphur match did their work, and Boxer gasped for breath. Thus his jaws were unlocked, and the man was freed. After such an excitement a dog always feels weak and shaky, and Boxer returned to his friend Jack with drooping tail and unsteady legs.

“Well, I never before saw a bull-dog made to quit his hold that way,” said one of the on-lookers.

“It’s the best way,” replied Reordan. “It’s a bull-dog’s nature to hold on when once he gets started, and he doesn’t know how to stop. There’s no use pounding him to make him let go. He simply can’t do it till the spasm in his jaw lets up, and I don’t know any better way to bring it about than this.”

“What did he tackle me for, anyway?” asked the man. “I didn’t do anything to him, and the first thing I knew he grabbed me by the leg.”