"Mine Gott, but we peek it oop in de road, Jud?"

"It seems that way to me--a dead cinch."

Bonaparte was positive--only let him get to the monkey, he said with his wicked eyes.

Billy looked at Bonaparte, big, swarthy, sinewy and savage. He thought of the little monkey.

"Dees is greet!--dees is too goot!--Jud, we peek it oop in de road, heh?"

"I'm kinder afraid we'll wake an' find it a dream, Billy--hurry up.

Get the cash."

Billy was thoughtful: "Tree hun'd'd dollars--Jud--eef--eef--" he shook his head.

"Now, Billy," said Jud patronizingly--"that's nonsense. Bonaparte will eat him alive in two minutes. Now, he bein' my dorg, jes' you put up the coin an' let me in on the ground floor. I'll pay it back--if we lose--" he laughed. "_If_ we lose--it's sorter like sayin' if the sun don't rise."

"Dat ees so, Jud, we peek eet oop in de road. But eef we don't peek eet oop, Billy ees pusted!"

"Oh," said Jud, "it's all like takin' candy from your own child."

The news had spread and a crowd had gathered to see the champion dog of the Tennessee Valley eat up a monkey. All the loafers and ne'er-do-wells of Cottontown were there. The village had known no such excitement since the big mill had been built.

They came up and looked sorrowfully at the monkey, as they would look in the face of the dead. But, considering that he had so short a time to live, he returned the grin with a reverence which was sacrilegious.

"So han'sum--so han'sum," said Uncle Billy Caldwell, the squire. "So bright an' han'sum an' to die so young!"

"It's nothin' but murder," said another.

This proved too much for Ozzie B.--

"Don't--d-o-n-'t--let him kill the monkey," he cried.

There was an electric flash of red as Archie B. ran around the tree and kicked the sobs back into his brother.

"Just wait, Ozzie B., you fool."

"For--what?" sobbed Ozzie.

"For what the monkey does to Bonaparte," he shouted triumphantly.

The crowd yelled derisively: "_What the monkey does to Bonaparte--that's too good?_"

"Boy," said Uncle Billy kindly--"don't you know it's ag'in nachur--why, the dorg'll eat him up!"

"That's rot," said Archie B. disdainfully. Then hotly: "Yes, it wus ag'in nachur when David killed Goliath--when Sampson slew the lion, and when we licked the British. Oh, it wus ag'in nachur then, but it looks mighty nach'ul now, don't it? Jes' you wait an' see what the monkey does to Bonaparte. I tell you, Uncle Billy, the Lord's on the monkey's side--can't you see it?"

Uncle Billy smiled and shook his head. He was interrupted by low laughter and cheers. A villager had drawn a crude picture on a white paste-board and was showing it around. A huge dog was shaking a lifeless monkey and under it was written:

"What Bonaparte Done To The Monkey!"

Archie B. seized it and spat on it derisively: "Oh, well, that's the way of the worl'," he said. "G.o.d makes one wise man to see befo', an'

a million fools to see afterwards."

The depths of life's mysteries have never yet been sounded, and one of the wonders of it all is that one small voice praying for flowers in a wilderness of thorns may live to see them blossom at his feet.

"I've seed stranger things than that," remarked Uncle Billy thoughtfully. "The boy mout be right."

And now Jud and Billy were seen coming out of the store, with their hands full of gold.

"Eet's robbery--eet's stealin'"--winked Billy at the crowd--"eet's like takin' it from a babe--"

With one accord the crowd surged toward the back lot, where Bonaparte, disgusted with the long delay, had lain down on a pile of newly-blown leaves and slept. Around the lot was a solid plank fence, with one gate open, and here in the lot, sound asleep in the sunshine, lay the champion.

The Italian brought along the monkey in his arms. Archie B. calmly and confidently acting as his bodyguard. Jud walked behind to see that the monkey did not get away, and behind him came Ozzie B.

sobbing in his hiccoughy way:

"Don't let him kill the po' little thing!"

He could go no farther than the gate. There he stood weeping and looking at the merciless crowd.

Bonaparte was still asleep on his pile of leaves. Jud would have called and wakened him, but Archie B. said: "Oh, the monkey will waken him quick enough--let him alone."

In the laugh which followed, Jud yielded and Archie B. won the first blood in the battle of brains.

The crowd now stood silent and breathless in one corner of the lot.

Only Ozzie B.'s sobs were heard. In the far corner lay Bonaparte.

The Italian stooped, and unlinking the chain of the monkey's collar, sat him on the ground and, pointing to the sleeping dog, whispered something in Italian into his pet's ear.

The crowd scarcely drew its breath as it saw the little animal slipping across the yard to its death.

Within three feet of the dog he stopped, then springing quickly on Bonaparte, with a screeching, bloodcurdling yell, grabbed his stump of a tail in both hands, and as the crowd rushed up, they heard its sharp teeth close on Bonaparte's most sensitive member with the deadly click of a steel trap.

The effect was instantaneous. A battery could not have brought the champion to his feet quicker. With him came the monkey--glued there--a continuation of the dog's tail.

Around and around went Bonaparte, snarling and howling and making maddening efforts to reach the monkey. But owing to the shortness of Bonaparte's tail, the monkey kept just out of reach, its hind legs braced against the dog, its teeth and nails glued to the two inches of tail.

Around and around whirled Bonaparte, trying to throw off the things which had dropped on him, seemingly, from the skies. His growls of defiance turned to barks, then to bowls of pain and finally, as he ran near to Archie B., he was heard to break into yelps of fright as he broke away dashing around the lot in a whirlwind of leaves and dust.

The champion dog was running!

"Sick him, Bonaparte, grab him--turn round an' grab him!" shouted Jud pale to his eyes, and shaking with shame.

"Seek heem, Ponyparte--O mine Gott, seek him," shouted Billy.

Jud rushed and tried to head the dog, but the champion seemed to have only one idea in his head--to get away from the misery which brought up his rear.

Around he went once more, then seeing the gate open, he rushed out, knocking Ozzie B. over into the dust, and when the crowd rushed out, nothing could be seen except a cloud of dust going down the village street, in the hind most cloud of it a pair of little red coat tails flapping in the breeze.