that cur jest settled down as quiet and followed at our heels. Seemed as if that was what he wanted.”
Here the men looked sheepishly at each other, as if each was ashamed at the emotion which stirred within him and was afraid lest it be observed.
Finally the first speaker took courage and said:
“Well, come on, let’s see what’s wrong. Get some brandy — and, oh! hell! give the dog something to drink and eat, too.”
In a moment there was action, where before there was inertia. One bringing a basin of warm water and a towel, another brandy, while the rest undertook to look after the dog, who refused to move away from the man’s side, however, and refused even the food and drink offered until he saw that aid was being given to his companion. Then, with a growl of satisfaction, which contained as well a despairing moan — as if the relief of nourishment was almost too great to bear — he commenced to devour ravenously what was placed before him, and gave thanks, in all directions, with a waving and vigorous tail message.
Just as he made his final thump of gratitude, the figure of his companion stirred and moaned, and instantly the dog was over the heads of the men, bending over his master and wildly lapping his face and hands, from which the dirt and blood had been removed.
It was a face of refinement, delicate in its outline, and with an expression which held the crowd silent Whether the brandy, which had been forced down his throat, or the caressing of the dog aroused him, it is difficult to say — for it was to the dog he turned his eyes, not to the men standing about him, and as his hand touched the animal it gave a wild yelp of gladness.
At this, a glimmer of a smile passed over the face — a smile tender as a mother’s and filled with the love and adoration of a child.
“Dakta, dear old Dakta,” he murmured feebly.
At the sound of his voice the dog laid down and moaned from very joy.
The man caressed the animal with the gentleness of a woman until it subsided and rested in peace against his body.
Then his eyes wandered over the group, which had stood silent and awe-struck at the emotion of the dog. With a smile which radiated over them all. he said:
“So you are Dakta’s good friends. 1 welcome you. comrades.”
A shuffling of feet answered him, and glances shot from right to left, but before any one had summoned the courage to reply, he continued:
“It seems strange to you, I perceive, for me to welcome you as Dakta’s friends. Men live all their lives with the most precious of jewels at their door and are unaware of it. Often it is wrapped in poor covering and often, too, in gorgeous raiment. I was one of those men.”
Here he stopped and stroked the dog, who now lay quiet and content, glancing up. now and then, into his friend’s face.
After a moment of silence, the man raised himself and looked intently into each face.
A furtive smile answered his query, on some faces, while others looked away, and yet, without their volition, their eyes came back and rested on his face.
“Come nearer, comrades. Sit at ease while I tell you of this jewel, which you all have within your reach and which Dakta, too, possesses.”
The men seated themselves quietly — one might almost say, reverently — so different was their attitude from their usual manner.
When the men were settled, his glance traveled over them all.
“Do you know that you have here untold riches?”
“To hell, we have!” ejaculated Steve.
“Exactly,” responded the stranger. “That is just it — Hell! — and that is paved with untold wealth — good intentions.”
“Huh!” snorted one of the listeners, “much good that wealth does a feller; you can’t buy a drink with that.”
“You are mistaken, my friend. It does you the greatest good in the world, and I will prove it to you; and, furthermore, it will purchase for you all the drinks you desire. Will you hear?”
“Fire away”
PART II.
“When I was a lad, I was puny, sickly, and in consequence was barred from the joy of companions and play.
My parents were too occupied with their great responsibilities — my father amassing wealth and my mother keeping her place as the leader of society — to give any special attention to the offspring who only upset the routine of the household by illness at inopportune times, and so the care was relegated to hirelings — who were paid for their time and gave accordingly only the efforts of their hands, with no thought that they possessed a heart.
I was kept out of doors constantly, and my only companion was the mother of Dakta. We grew up together, and it was the exercise given me from very joy and ecstacy — together with the love and devotion, which I felt for the first time, and realized did exist — which restored me gradually to health.
Next I became acquainted with selfishness and cruelty, for my playmate — having added to the joy of the world, five beautiful downy bits of life — was taken away from me, for she brought a good price with four of her children. Money was of more importance than love. Dakta, here, was left behind, however, for the stableman, for he had looked after her mother.
It was from the stableman that I received my first lesson as to the wealth which was to be obtained.
He was an ugly, brutal looking man, dirty and unkempt most of the time, but to me he was a very god, for each day he came to the wicket of the fence, with Dakta in his arms, and with a smile which was like a beam of sunshine, he would say, “Hey! little master, here she is,” and with that he would put Dakta through the wicket.
Each day ever since she has been with me, sharing joy and sorrow and teaching me with infinite patience and love the great lessons of life — Faithfulness, Gratitude, Cleanliness, Godliness and Work.
For ten years she has been steadfast and her love unchanged, although I have led her through the mire many times, and hunger and cold have been her portions.”
Here he put his hand upon the dog and turned its face upward, and, looking into its eyes, said:
“But never lack of love, old girl! Never that!”
The dog kept its eyes upon him as he spoke, and the men were silent as it gave a little whimpering answer and licked the man’s hand.
Turning once more to his circle of listeners, the man continued his story:
“I have called you Dakta’s comrades for she selected you, and her judgment is unerring in regard to those who have wealth.”
Here he smiled, and in a whimsical tone said:
“She is an aristocrat, and traces her family many generations, and therefore shuns those who do not belong to her class. For we have mingled with each and every class — having been the invited guests of multimillionaires, pampered social leaders, and sat at the table of all of the rulers
