michael, brother of jerry-第36部分

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er　and　leg　and　further　and　severely　injuring　the　crushed　foot。　　He　even　attacked　the　bars　with　his　teeth　in　his　agony　to　get　at　the　monster　thing　outside　that　had　laid　hold　of　him　and　would　not　let　him　go。　　Another　rut　saved　him；　however；　tilting　the　trunk　just　sufficiently　to　enable　his　violent　struggling　to　drag　the　foot　clear。

At　the　railroad　station；　the　crate　was　handled；　not　with　deliberate　roughness；　but　with　such　carelessness　that　it　half…　slipped　out　of　a　baggage…man's　hands；　capsized　sidewise；　and　was　caught　when　it　was　past　the　man's　knees　but　before　it　struck　the　cement　floor。　　But；　Michael；　sliding　helplessly　down　the　perpendicular　bottom　of　the　crate；　fetched　up　with　his　full　weight　on　the　injured　paw。

〃Huh！〃　said　Del　Mar　a　little　later　to　Michael；　having　strolled　down　the　platform　to　where　the　crate　was　piled　on　a　truck　with　other　baggage　destined　for　the　train。　　〃Got　your　foot　smashed。　Well；　it'll　teach　you　a　lesson　to　keep　your　feet　inside。〃

〃That　claw　is　a　goner；〃　one　of　the　station　baggage…men　said；　straightening　up　from　an　examination　of　Michael　through　the　bars。

Del　Mar　bent　to　a　closer　scrutiny。

〃So's　the　whole　toe；〃　he　said；　drawing　his　pocket…knife　and　opening　a　blade。　　〃I'll　fix　it　in　half　a　jiffy　if　you'll　lend　a　hand。〃

He　unlocked　the　box　and　dipped　Michael　out　with　the　customary　strangle…hold　on　the　neck。　　He　squirmed　and　struggled；　dabbing　at　the　air　with　the　injured　as　well　as　the　uninjured　forepaw　and　increasing　his　pain。

〃You　hold　the　leg；〃　Del　Mar　commanded。　　〃He's　safe　with　that　grip。　It　won't　take　a　second。〃

Nor　did　it　take　longer。　　And　Michael；　back　in　the　box　and　raging；　was　one　toe　short　of　the　number　which　he　had　brought　into　the　world。　　The　blood　ran　freely　from　the　crude　but　effective　surgery；　and　he　lay　and　licked　the　wound　and　was　depressed　with　apprehension　of　he　knew　not　what　terrible　fate　awaited　him　and　was　close　at　hand。　　Never；　in　his　experience　of　men；　had　he　been　so　treated；　while　the　confinement　of　the　box　was　maddening　with　its　suggestion　of　the　trap。　　Trapped　he　was；　and　helpless；　and　the　ultimate　evil　of　life　had　happened　to　Steward；　who　had　evidently　been　swallowed　up　by　the　Nothingness　which　had　swallowed　up　Meringe；　the　Eugenie；　the　Solomon　Islands；　the　Makambo；　Australia；　and　the　Mary　Turner。

Suddenly；　from　a　distance；　came　a　bedlam　of　noise　that　made　Michael　prick　up　his　ears　and　bristle　with　premonition　of　fresh　disaster。　　It　was　a　confused　yelping；　howling；　and　barking　of　many　dogs。

〃Holy　Smoke！It's　them　damned　acting　dogs；〃　growled　the　baggageman　to　his　mate。　　〃There　ought　to　be　a　law　against　dog…　acts。　　It　ain't　decent。〃

〃It's　Peterson's　Troupe；〃　said　the　other。　　〃I　was　on　when　they　come　in　last　week。　　One　of　'em　was　dead　in　his　box；　and　from　what　I　could　see　of　him　it　looked　mighty　like　he'd　had　the　tar　knocked　outa　him。〃

〃Got　a　wollopin'　from　Peterson　most　likely　in　the　last　town　and　then　was　shipped　along　with　the　bunch　and　left　to　die　in　the　baggage　car。〃

The　bedlam　increased　as　the　animals　were　transferred　from　the　wagon　to　a　platform　truck；　and　when　the　truck　rolled　up　and　stopped　alongside　Michael's　he　made　out　that　it　was　piled　high　with　crated　dogs。　　In　truth；　there　were　thirty…five　dogs；　of　every　sort　of　breed　and　mostly　mongrel；　and　that　they　were　far　from　happy　was　attested　by　their　actions。　　Some　howled；　some　whimpered；　others　growled　and　raged　at　one　another　through　the　slots；　and　many　maintained　a　silence　of　misery。　　Several　licked　and　nursed　bruised　feet。　　Smaller　dogs　that　did　not　fight　much　were　crammed　two　or　more　into　single　crates。　　Half　a　dozen　greyhounds　were　crammed　into　larger　crates　that　were　anything　save　large　enough。

〃Them's　the　high…jumpers；〃　said　the　first　baggageman。　　〃An'　look　at　the　way　they're　packed。　　Peterson　ain't　going　to　pay　any　more　excess　baggage　than　he　has　to。　　Not　half　room　enough　for　them　to　stand　up。　　It　must　be　hell　for　them　from　the　time　they　leave　one　town　till　they　arrive　at　the　next。〃

But　what　the　baggageman　did　not　know　was　that　in　the　towns　the　hell　was　not　mitigated；　that　the　dogs　were　still　confined　in　their　too…narrow　prisons；　that；　in　fact；　they　were　life…prisoners。　Rarely；　except　for　their　acts；　were　they　taken　out　from　their　cages。　　From　a　business　standpoint；　good　care　did　not　pay。　　Since　mongrel　dogs　were　cheap；　it　was　cheaper　to　replace　them　when　they　died　than　so　to　care　for　them　as　to　keep　them　from　dying。

What　the　baggageman　did　not　know；　and　what　Peterson　did　know；　was　that　of　these　thirty…five　dogs　not　one　was　a　surviving　original　of　the　troupe　when　it　first　started　out　four　years　before。　　Nor　had　there　been　any　originals　discarded。　　The　only　way　they　left　the　troupe　and　its　cages　was　by　dying。　　Nor　did　Michael　know　even　as　little　as　the　baggageman　knew。　　He　knew　nothing　save　that　here　reigned　pain　and　woe　and　that　it　seemed　he　was　destined　to　share　the　same　fate。

Into　the　midst　of　them；　when　with　more　howlings　and　yelpings　they　were　loaded　into　the　baggage　car；　was　Michael's　cage　piled。　　And　for　a　day　and　a　part　of　two　nights；　travelling　eastward；　he　remained　in　the　dog　inferno。　　Then　they　were　loaded　off　in　some　large　city；　and　Michael　continued　on　in　greater　quietness　and　comfort；　although　his　injured　foot　still　hurt　and　was　bruised　afresh　whenever　his　crate　was　moved　about　in　the　car。

What　it　was　all　aboutwhy　he　was　kept　in　his　cramped　prison　in　the　cramped　carhe　did　not　ask　himself。　　He　accepted　it　as　unhappiness　and　misery；　and　had　no　more　explanation　for　it　than　for　the　crushing　of　the　paw。　　Such　things　happened。　　It　was　life；　and　life　had　many　evils。　　The　WHY　of　things　never　entered　his　head。　　He　knew　THINGS　and　some　small　bit　of　the　HOW　of　things。　What　was；　WAS。　　Water　was　wet；　fire　hot；　iron　hard；　meat　good。　　He　accepted　such　things　as　he　accepted　the　everlasting　miracles　of　the　light　and　of　the　dark；　which　were　no　miracles　to　him　any　more　than　was　his　wire　coat　a　miracle；　or　his　beating　heart；　or　his　thinking　brain。

In　Chicago；　he　was　loaded　upon　a　track；　carted　through　the　roaring　streets　of　the　vast　city；　and　put　into　another　baggage…car　which　was　quickly　in　motion　in　continuation　of　the　eastward　journey。　　It　meant　more　strange　men　who　handled　baggage；　as　it　meant　in　New　York；　where；　from　railroad　baggage…room　to　express　wagon　he　was　exchanged；　for　ever　a　crated　prisoner　and　dispatched　to　one；　Harris　Collins；　on　Long　Island。

First　of　all　came　Harris　Collins　and　the　animal　hell　over　which　he　ruled。　　But　the　second　event　must　be　stated　first。　　Michael　never　saw　Harry　Del　Mar　again。　　As　the　other　men　he　had　known　had　stepped　out　of　life；　which　was　a　way　they　had；　so　Harry　Del　Mar　stepped　out　of　Michael's　purview　of　life　as　well　as　out　of　life　itself。　　And　his　stepping　out　was　literal。　　A　collision　on　the　elevated；　a　panic　scramble　of　the　uninjured　out　upon　the　trestle　over　the　street；　a　step　on　the　third　rail；　and　Harry　Del　Mar　was　engulfed　in　the　Nothingness　which　men　know　as　death　and　which　is　nothingness　in　so　far　as　such　engulfed　ones　never　reappear　nor　walk　the　ways　of　life　again。



CHAPTER　XXIV



Harris　Collins　was　fifty…two　years　of　age。　　He　was　slender　and　dapper；　and　in　appearance　and　comportment　was　so　sweet…　and　gentle…spirited　that　the　impression　he　radiated　was　almost　of　sissyness。　　He　might　have　taught　a　Sunday…school；　presided　over　a　girls'　seminary；　or　been　a　president　of　a　humane　society。

His　complexion　was　pink　and　white；　his　hands　were　as　soft　as　the　hands　of　his　daughters；　and　he　weighed　a　hundred　and　twelve　pounds。　　Moreover；　he　was　afraid　of　his　wife；　afraid　of　a　policeman；　afraid　of　physical　violence；　and　lived　in　constant　dread　of　burglars。　　But　the　one　thing　he　was　not　afraid　of　was　wild　animals　of　the　most　ferocious　sorts；　such　as　lions；　tigers；　leopards；　and　jaguars。　　He　knew　the　game；　and　could　conquer　the　most　refractory　lion　with　a　broom…handlenot　outside　the　cage；　but　inside　and　locked　in。

It　was　because　he　knew　the　game　and　had　learned　it　from　his　father　before　him；　a　man　even　smaller　than　himself　and　more　fearful　of　all　things　except　animals。　　This　father；　Noel　Collins；　had　been　a　successful　animal　trainer　in　England；　before　emigrating　to　America；　and　in　America　he　had　continued　the　success　and　laid　the　foundation　of　the　big　animal　training　school　at　Cedarwild；　which　his　son　had　developed　and　built　up　after　him。　　So　well　had　Harris　Collins　built　on　his　father's　foundation　that　the　place　was　considered　a　model　of　sanitation　and　kindness。　　It　entertained　many　visitors；　who　invariably　went　away　with　their　souls　filled　with　ecstasy　over　the　atmosphere　of　sweetness　and　light　that　pervaded　the　place。　　Never；　however；　were　they　permitted　to　see　the　actual　training。　　On　occasion；　performances　were　given　them　by　the　finished　products　which　verified　all　their　other　delightful　and　charming　conclusions　about　the　school。　　But　had　they　seen　the　training　of　raw　novices；　it　would　have　been　a　different　story。　　It　might　even　have　been　a　riot。　　As　it　was；　the　place　was　a　zoo；　and　free　at　that；　for；　in　addition　to　the　animals　he　owned　and　trained　and　bought　and　sold；　a　large　portion　of　the　business　was　devoted　to　boarding　trained　animals　and　troupes　of　animals　for　owners　who　were　out　of　engagements；　or　for　estat