Peak and Prairie | Page 3

life does not cease even in
the most unobtrusive consciousness. It was going on in little Mrs.
Nancy's brain at every step of her morning walk. As the shriek of a
locomotive rent the air, a bright smile suddenly crossed her face. Her
thoughts had taken a different and more inspiring turn.
"Who knows," she said to herself. "Maybe that is the very engine that
will take me home some day--when Atchison begins to pay again."
The noisy engines had always a reassuring sound to her ears. She
would sometimes lie in bed listening with rapture to their discordant
cries. They were the willing servants that would one day carry her

eastward, miles upon miles, hours upon hours--eastward to the old
home, within smell of the salt air, where there were familiar faces to
welcome her, familiar voices to speak of Willie.
The people here, the few she knew, were very kind, but they seemed to
have forgotten Willie, and she was shy of speaking of him. But all the
home folks would flock to meet her, and to hear of his last brave hours.
How glad they would be to know that he had lacked nothing! Atchison
had given them all they needed while Willie was alive. She blessed
Heaven for that.
She had arrived in the business part of the town, where wagons and
foot-passengers thronged at this hour of the morning. She willingly let
them divert her thoughts. She liked the bustle and hurry of the scene.
The well-dressed men and women in their trim turnouts little guessed
what pleasure their high-stepping horses and silver-mounted harnesses
gave to the modest little woman threading her way among the people
on the sidewalk.
Suddenly Mrs. Nancy's pleased survey of the scene was interrupted.
Glancing down a side street, she beheld a sight which made her heart
beat hard. A big, rough-looking man was striding along the sidewalk,
dragging at the end of a long pole a frightened white dog. The dog was
pulling back with might and main, scarcely using its unwilling legs in
its enforced progress over the ground. What could it mean? Was the
dog mad? He looked harmless enough. They were only a few rods off,
and Mrs. Nancy soon overtook them. The dog proved to be a small
white collie, and as she came up with him he gave her an appealing
look out of his great brown eyes, which filled her with compassion and
indignation.
"What are you doing with that dog?" she demanded, in a peremptory
tone of voice quite out of keeping with the rusty black bonnet.
"Doin'?" repeated the man, somewhat surprised. "I'm takin' him to the
City Hall."
"What for?"

"He ain't got no license on."
"And what are you going to do with him when you get him there?"
"I ain't goin' to do nothin' more with him."
"Will they put a license on him?"
"Not much! He won't need no license after to-morrow morning." The
man's grin seemed perfectly diabolical.
"You don't mean they'll kill him?"
"I reckon that's about the size of it."
"But suppose the owner would rather pay the license?" she urged.
"Then he'd better step round lively and pay it. There ain't no time to
lose. The law was on the 1st of May, and the owner'd ought to have
attended to it before now."
The unutterable tragedy of the situation was heightened by the needless
humiliation and terror of the victim, and once again Mrs. Nancy
protested.
"What makes you drag him at the end of that pole?"
"I ain't goin' to give him a chance at my breeches, not if I knows
myself," replied the man, defiantly.
"He wouldn't hurt your pantaloons. See how gentle he is!" and the little
woman pulled off her glove to pat the pretty white head. As the grateful
creature licked her hand she felt a thrill of new pity and tenderness. By
this time they were at the City Hall. "What do you have to pay for a
license?" she asked.
"Two good solid dollars," said the man. "I never seen a dog yet that
was worth that money, did you?" And dog and persecutor disappeared
together within a sinister-looking basement door.

Mrs. Nancy Tarbell stood for a moment irresolute, and then she slowly
wended her way along the sidewalk, pondering the thing she had seen.
Two dollars! That was a large sum of money in these hard times. Could
she possibly spare it? She did not know yet what her tax bill would be,
but for some unexplained reason it turned out to be larger every year.
She supposed it was owing to the improvements they were making in
the town, and she had too much self-respect to protest. But it was really
getting to be a serious