The Telegraph Boy Part 18

"Mrs. Leroy isn't here."

"I am," said Frank, emphatically, "and that is the same thing."

Victor, by way of reply, pinched Fido's ear, and the little animal squeaked his disapproval.

"Look here, Victor," said Frank, decidedly, "you must stop that."

"Must I?" sneered Victor, contemptuously. "'Suppose I don't?"

"Then I shall punch you," said Frank, quietly.

"You are impertinent," said Victor, haughtily. "You needn't put on such airs because you are nurse to a puppy."

"That is better than being a puppy myself," retorted Frank.

"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Victor, quickly.

"No, unless you choose to think the remark fits you."

"I have a great mind to give you a thras.h.i.+ng," said Victor, furiously.

"Of course I should sit still and let you do it," said Frank, calmly.

"Fido is under my care, and I can't have him teased. That is right, isn't it?"

"I did wrong to notice you," said Victor. "You are only a dog's nurse."

Frank laughed.

"You are right," he said. "It is new business for me, and though it is easy enough I can't say I like it. However, I am in the service of the Telegraph Company, and must do whatever is required."

Victor walked away, rather annoyed because he could not tease Frank.

"The boy has no pride," he said to himself, "or he wouldn't live out to take care of dogs. But, then, it is suitable enough for him."

"Is that dawg yours?" asked a rough-looking man, taking his seat on the bench near Frank.

"No, sir."

"How old is it?"

"I don't know."

"Looks like a dawg I used to own. Let me take him."

"I would rather not," said Frank, coldly. "It belongs to a lady who is very particular."

"Oh, you won't, won't you?" said the man, roughly. "Danged if I don't think it is my dawg, after all;" and the man seized Fido, and was about to carry him away.

But Frank seized him by the arm, and called for help.

"What's the matter?" asked a park policeman who, un.o.bserved by either, had come up behind.

"This man is trying to steal my dog," said Frank.

"The dog is mine," said the thief, boldly.

"Drop him!" said the officer, authoritatively. "I have seen that dog before. He belongs to neither of you."

"That is true," said Frank. "It belongs to Mrs. Leroy, of Madison avenue, and I am employed to take it out for an airing."

"It's a lie!" said the man, sullenly.

"If you are seen again in this neighborhood," said the policeman, "I shall arrest you. Now clear out!"

The would-be thief slunk away, and Frank thanked the officer.

"That man is a dog-stealer," said the policeman. "His business is to steal dogs, and wait till a reward is offered. Look out for him!"

CHAPTER XII.

A WAYWARD SON.

When Frank carried Fido back to his mistress, he thought it his duty to tell Mrs. Leroy of the attempt to abduct the favorite.

Mrs. Leroy turned pale.

"Did the man actually take my little pet?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. He said it was his dog."

"The horrid brute! How could I have lived without my darling?" and the lady caressed her favorite tenderly. "How did you prevent him?"

"I seized him by the arm, and held him till a policeman came up."

"You are a brave boy," said Mrs. Leroy, admiringly. "But for you, Fido would have been stolen."

"The policeman said the man was a professional dog-stealer. He steals dogs for the reward which is offered."

"I was sure I could trust you with my pet," said Mrs. Leroy. "You deserve a reward yourself."

"I was only doing my duty, ma'am," said Frank, modestly.

"It isn't everybody that does that."

Mrs. Leroy rose, and, going to her bureau, drew an ivory portemonnaie from a small upper drawer; from this she extracted a two-dollar bill, and gave it to Frank.