pilot's dog-life had fallen into pleasant paths. his days were one happy round of comfortable hours, spent close to the big fireplace or at billy's heels. he slept on an old blanket in the hallway outside of billy's door. his friends were billy's friends and their dogs--pilot was loyal and democratic to the end of his stubby tail. his duties were few and pleasant--to guard his master and his master's family, to keep the next-door cat away from his door and to inspect daily the refuse barrels in the backyards of his street. if he had a sorrow it was that he could not go to school with the children, but he always went with them to the corner, lifted his paw for a parting shake, watched them disappear from sight, and trotted home to wait for the hour when they would return. twice daily nora fed him choice scraps and bones which he ate from a plate in the back hall, and if occasionally someone spoke sharply to him or rebuked him for thoughtlessly lying upon one of the chairs or the davenport, the sting was always softened by a pat on his head. what hardships he had had in the past had been forgotten--he had no concern for the future!
of course pilot could not always understand the language his master spoke. he read mostly by signs. so, one morning, when he saw billy and peggy and keineth making preparations for some out-of-door pleasure, he stood eagerly at billy's heels, wagging his tail to tell his master that he was ready, too.
"we can't take him on the street-car," peggy complained.
"and he might get lost in the woods," keineth added.
now pilot could not know that the children were putting on heavy rubbers and warm sweaters under their coats because they were going to "hike" into the woods to see if the sap was beginning to run. and from their excited remarks he could not reason that, to get to the woods, they would have to take the street-car to the city line and dogs were not allowed on the street-cars. it was saturday, and saturday to pilot meant a whole day with billy! so when they were quite ready he dashed ahead to the door.
"you can't go pilot. go back!" billy said sternly.
he stood very still and watched them disappear through the door, giving only one little whimper. they did not even say good-by; he heard their merry voices slowly die away. then he lay down on the floor with one eye on the closed door.
but even the most faithful will not wait forever. the sound of nora's step coaxed him into the kitchen. it was quite nice there--the sun was shining across the white floor and something on the stove smelled very good. nora was singing, too, which meant that he could coax a little and get in her way. after a while she gave him a whole cookie--he felt happier!
a little later, having wandered several times through the empty rooms of the house and found no one, he started out of doors in search of some amusement. he chased the cat to the veranda roof from which she refused to descend. he saw a friend of billy's, so he left the cat to walk with him to the corner. he carefully examined some boxes that were piled there, then he made friends with a stray terrier who stopped to exchange greetings with him. pilot liked the terrier, together they trotted down the street, block after block.
he did not notice a big limousine car that passed and re-passed him--to him these motor cars were of no interest excepting to keep out from under their wheels. but when it stopped suddenly at the curb and an old man climbed out, calling "jacky, jacky!" he paused.
the old man was beckoning to his chauffeur and talking in an excited voice.
"come and look at him! i know it's jacky," he was saying.
at the name a memory stirred in pilot's mind. he advanced slowly to the man. the man held out his hand and called again, "jacky," and pilot went to him and laid his nose in the palm of the man's hand.
"it's jacky, it's jacky," the old man cackled. "he'd always do that when i called him! look at his ears--one got torn and i had a stitch taken in it! look and see, briggs, my eyes are so bad." briggs pushed back the hair on pilot's ears and found the scar. the old man was very joyful.
"he was stolen from me two years ago! look on his collar, briggs."
briggs read aloud the address on the collar.
"we'll take him there right away, briggs! come on, jacky, my boy!"
but pilot considered this going a little too far--he objected, at which the man briggs lifted him and placed him in the automobile. he was far too polite to struggle for his freedom, but he put his paws upon the door and barked a vigorous protest.
mrs. lee had just returned from shopping and answered the bell herself. across her mind flashed immediately the explanation of the strange group on her doorstep. in a few words she told the old man the story of pilot's coming into their family. as he listened he nodded several times.
"i cared more for that dog than anything on earth," he told her. "he was always with me! when he was stolen i couldn't get over it, madam--just couldn't get over it! felt as if i'd lost my only friend!" mrs. lee wished she could feel sympathetic, but she was thinking of billy!
"now let him go, briggs, and you watch him, madam!"
briggs released his hold of pilot's collar, pilot leaped upon mrs. lee joyfully, tore down the length of the hall and back and then stood a little apart, eyeing suspiciously the strange group.
"come, jacky, come jacky!" cackled the old man, holding out his hand.
and pilot, above all else, was faithful! slowly, reluctantly, he went towards the outstretched hand and laid his nose in it.
"always did that when i called him! see his ear, madam--i had a stitch taken in it when he tore it! see the scar?"
there was no doubt in mrs. lee's mind but that the dog belonged to the man.
"my children are going to be heartbroken," she commenced slowly. "could we buy--"
the old man snorted angrily. "buy jacky? don't you know he's a very valuable dog? and anyway, you haven't enough money to buy his companionship from me! your children can get another dog, madam, but for me there is only one jacky!" as he spoke with fumbling fingers he drew out a card and a dollar bill. "pay the boy his dollar, madam. take him down, briggs. very sorry, madam, but good-day!"
briggs pulled on the collar and pilot went down the steps very slowly. he knew in his dog-mind that something was happening! he turned and looked appealingly at mrs. lee. she was standing very still and was not helping him at all! he tried to tell her to tell billy that he had to do his duty and when this man called him jacky he knew he had to go, but he would always love his young master best!
so when the children returned to the house, cheeks red with the wind, splashed with mud, tired and happy, there was no pilot to greet them!
mrs. lee told them the story; tried to tell it in such a way that the children would feel sorry for the lonely old man who had been so happy at finding his dog!
but billy raged--his high-pitched voice choking over the sob that struggled in his throat. he threw the dollar and the card savagely to the floor.
"wouldn't you have thought the old thing would have at least given billy a reward!" cried peggy indignantly.
though she did not answer this, mrs. lee smiled, as she recalled the reluctance with which the old man had extracted even the one-dollar bill from his pocket.
"i don't want any old reward--i just want pilot! if we hadn't gone away and left him that old man would never have found him," billy wailed.
"couldn't we buy him, mother?"
"the dog is worth a great deal of money. i'm afraid we could scarcely afford it, my dear, even if the man would part with him. billy must look at the thing in a sensible way." she laid her hand on billy's shoulder. "pilot will miss you as much as you do him, my son! but you have a great many other things to make you happy and i should judge that that old man had nothing!"
keineth went up to her room to take off her muddy shoes. on her bureau she found a letter nora had placed there. in the corner of the envelope was printed in large letters: "brown and company." she tore it open with fingers trembling with excitement. it was from the music publishers, telling her that they would publish her "castle of dreams," and for its purchase had enclosed a check.
and keineth, unfolding the small slip of paper, saw written there: "the sum of twenty-five dollars."
"peggy! peg-gy!"
