And so the homeless dog walked slowly on, sniffing here and there trying to find, in the only way he knew, something to eat. And, as luck would have it, Ruddy turned into the yard of the house where Rick lived. There seemed to be no one up, and so, from having been a sort of a tramp dog in at least half of the days he had thus far lived, Ruddy trotted around to the back door. That is where tramps--whether men or dogs--always go; to the back door. Later on they may use the front way.
Ruddy knew at back doors there were sometimes boxes, barrels or cans filled with what might be called food. It was not as nice as he could have wished, but often he had found a perfectly good bone in this way--a bone which was not too hard for his puppy teeth that were fast growing stronger.
"I hope I find some meat this morning," thought Ruddy. "There isn"t much on a bone, lots of times it"s almost bare, and I"m terribly hungry!"
He saw some cans at the back door. From one came the delicious smell of meat, and with a joyful yelp Ruddy began nosing about it. The cover was on the can, but Ruddy knew how to shove this off--that is if it were not on too tightly.
But this one was tight. Push as he did with his paws and nose, Ruddy could not uncover the can to get at the meat, the smell of which came through a crack in the top. And then, being only a little dog--a poor, cold, hungry puppy, Ruddy raised his head and howled. It was just as if some small boy or girl had cried.
Sadly and mournfully Ruddy howled, because he could not shove the cover off the garbage pail, and get at what was within. And then, with the first echo of the hungry dog"s cry dying away, the kitchen door opened and there stood Rick.
At first the boy could scarcely believe that what he saw was real--a small, reddish-brown dog at his doorsteps. But then, as Ruddy stopped howling, wagged his tail and crawled to Rick"s feet, the boy"s eyes sparkled in delight. He leaned down, put his arms around Ruddy"s neck, hugging him close, as only a boy can hug a dog, and Rick shouted.
"He"s come! He"s here! I got him!"
"What"s that? Who"s there? What have you got?" asked Rick"s mother.
"I"ve got a dog!" cried Rick in ringing tones. "He came in the night. I prayed that I"d get him, and I did! He"s here! I was afraid it might be a cat, like Mazie prayed for a doll carriage and got a cradle. But I got a dog all right. Oh, you"re my dog! You"re my dog!" and then Ruddy, looking up into the eyes of Rick, knew that he had found what he wanted all his short life--someone to whom he could really belong!
Mrs. Dalton came to the door. She looked at Rick hugging the reddish-brown puppy, and a troubled look came over her face.
"Where did you get him?" she asked.
"He was right here--on the steps waiting for me," answered Rick. "I hoped he"d be here when I woke up, but I couldn"t be sure. You see I didn"t pray very long--only one night."
"Richard Dalton! You didn"t pray for a dog; did you?" asked his mother, rather shocked, though she did not know exactly why.
"Course I prayed for a dog," Rick answered. "Isn"t it all right to pray for what you want?"
His mother did not answer that question.
"You can"t keep him," she said.
"Why not?" and there was alarm in Rick"s tone and glance as he stopped patting the brown head and looking into the brown eyes of Ruddy. "Why can"t I keep my dog?"
"Because he isn"t yours," answered his mother.
"But he came to me--in the night. Maybe he came up out of the sea, like Mazie said. Anyhow he was here waiting for me. Course he"s my dog!" and the boy put his arms about Ruddy"s neck.
"No, Rick dear," answered his mother. "This may be a nice dog, and you may like him very much, but he must belong to someone else."
"Then couldn"t I keep him "till someone comes for him?" asked the boy.
"He likes me--look how he stays with me."
"Yes, a puppy will stay with anyone," said Mrs. Dalton. "But I don"t want you to have a dog, Rick. I"m afraid of them."
"Not this one--not--not Ruddy!" exclaimed Rick, giving the dog that name as it seemed best to fit him. "Why he"d just love Mazie! He wouldn"t bite her and he can"t scratch like a cat. Please, mother, let me keep this dog! He"s mine! He came to me in the night! He was here waiting for me when I came down to see if I"d got one!"
Mrs. Dalton found it hard to refuse. She loved animals herself, and her only fear of a dog was on account of little Mazie.
"Well, you may keep him until after breakfast, anyhow," she said. "I expect he"s hungry. Give him some milk, and then get washed for your own meal."
"Couldn"t he have some meat, too?" asked Rick.
"I"ll see if I can find him a few sc.r.a.ps. Too much meat isn"t good for little dogs. Milk is better. But this isn"t such a puppy as I thought at first. I"ll see what I can find for him."
And what a meal that was to half-starved Ruddy! Never had sc.r.a.ps of meat, bits of bread and potato and milk tasted so good! He paused now and then, in his eager bolting of the food, to look up at Rick and his mother. Ruddy divided his glances of affection between them, for he did not know to whom he owed most. He ate quickly. A dog does not need to chew his food very much, as it is taken care of in his wonderful stomach. In that he is not like boys and girls, who, the more they chew their food, the better off they are.
"Oh, what you got?" cried a voice behind Rick, as he was watching his dog eat. "What you got?"
"A dog, Mazie," answered her brother. "It"s my dog! He came in the night, and he was waiting down on the back steps for me. I prayed for him. Did you pray too, Mazie?"
"No. I--I was going to," said the little girl, "but I was so sleepy I forgot whether you said a dog or a cat, so I just prayed for a new doll for me. Oh, he"s a nice dog!"
"I just guess he is!" cried Rick already proud in ownership of something real and alive and almost human. "He"s my dog!"
Mrs. Dalton said nothing, but she looked over the heads of the children toward her husband.
"So Rick"s found a dog after all; has he?" spoke Mr. Dalton, as he got ready to go to work. "Well! Well! He isn"t such a bad dog, either."
"No, he seems right nice," spoke Mrs. Dalton. "But he must belong to someone."
"He belongs to me!" declared Rick. "I don"t need Henry Blake"s dog now; I got one of my own!"
The kitchen door was open. The sun was shining warmer now on the back steps, and Ruddy wanted to lie down in that patch of yellow light, and bask in the glow after his meal. Rick followed his new pet outside.
Sig Bailey, the coast guard, was just coming off duty, and going past the house on his way to home and breakfast. He looked in the yard and saw Rick patting Ruddy.
"h.e.l.lo there!" called Sig. "Where"d you get my dog, Rick?"
"_Your_ dog?" cried the boy, and his heart seemed to stop beating for a second. "Is--is this _your_ dog?"
CHAPTER IV
RUDDY"S FIRST HUNT
Anxiously Rick waited for an answer from the coast guard. Ruddy who was standing beside the boy, c.o.c.ked up his ears and sniffed the air that was blowing from the man toward that sensitive animal nose. Once Ruddy (or any dog, for that matter) had smelled a person, he never forgot. Years afterward Ruddy would remember that person"s smell, and know whether he was a friend or enemy. And Ruddy knew he had smelled this man before.
With the remembrance was both pleasure and something of pain. The pleasure was in the joyous memory of the bit of bread and meat the coast guard had given the dog. The pain came when Ruddy recalled how he was driven away--or at least he thought he was. But we know that the coast guard was only telling the puppy to shelter himself from the storm.
And then, in that wonderful manner dogs have of really knowing that men"s ways are not their ways, and that sometimes a man makes a dog do something for the animal"s good that the creature would rather not do--somehow, in this manner Ruddy knew that the coast guard was to be numbered among his new friends.
Back and forth wagged the expressive tail, and, with a joyful bark, Ruddy bounded toward the man who had been out in the storm all night on the lonely beach. Ruddy was beginning a new life, and the guard and the boy were the first two important things in it.