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Updated: June 18, 2025
Be quick, then; through the door, and stowaway in the coal-shed." The house had a back-door, or it would not have been fit for old Growler's purposes; and the door opened into what they called a garden, but it was a bit of dirty barren ground, strewn with broken bricks and crockery, and bits of rotten wood, with some tumble-down sheds on either side of it.
"He don't mind me, miss, not one bit, our Growler don't," said the composed damsel, as if Growler's indifference were rather a feather in his cap. Alas! for any attention that the victim paid to May's desperate remonstrances. She had in fact no right to reproach the enemy's temporary proprietress for her lack of authority over her four-footed companion.
He could see through the overhanging ivy and travellers' joy the men peering about with their dark lantern, looking into the caves where the pigs were, among the trees, and he held Growler's mouth together lest the grim murmurs that were rolling in the beast's throat should serve as a guide.
But Growler's version of the thing would be quite different. "A thing full of great ugly spots, that goes scorching up one part of the earth and leaving another in the cold, and is generally hidden by clouds from all the rest." Such is the genial, bright view of things taken by our old schoolmate. There are two sorts of growlers.
Silence your dog, I say," as Growler's voice resounded through the gulley, "or it will be the worse for you and him." Stead took hold of the dog's collar, and amidst his choked grumbles, said, "I do nought but on true warrant." "Hark ye, blockhead," said the foremost. "I'm an officer of His Majesty's, with power to make requisitions for his service."
It was too dark to see anything, but she could hardly bear to leave him, as she hurried back to the hut for the lantern. All this had taken but few minutes, so that she had only to catch it up from the table where Stead's book still lay. By the time she came back, he had opened his eyes, and his hand was on Growler's head. "Are they gone?" he asked faintly. "Yes, and Peter after them. Oh!
Growler's hair likewise rose up on his neck, but his lips also parted in a snarl and he started off on the fresh track, uttering excited yelps. Growler thought he scented a good fight ahead, and he would rather chew on a good adversary any day than upon a piece of beefsteak.
Growler's prognostications, though the cook had absconded, and the chief guest of the occasion could not cut up his own meat, that Christmas dinner at Gangoil was eaten with great satisfaction. Harry had been so far triumphant.
"Stop," cried a voice of command behind her, "you'll have the dog turn upon you as soon as he has finished his present job," and a welcome deliverer ran forward just in time. He seized the first tail he could grasp luckily for him it was Tray's and not Growler's and hung on to it like a vice.
Then came a crackling and rustling of boughs, a head appeared, and at that moment Stead loosed Growler and would have dealt a blow with his stick, but that the assault of the dog had sufficed to send the assailant, roaring and cursing, headlong down the crag. Furious threats came up to him and his dog, but he heard them in silence, though Growler's replies were vociferous.
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