DOG ON TRIAL

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 201, 25 August 1937, Page 23

DOG ON TRIAL

By CHARLES STANDISH CORRIN

THROUGH the open windows of the little Clayton courtroom, the spring sunshine could be seen gilding the ripples of Long Pond, into which the new community pier jutted. Within the courtroom the atmosphere was ten.se. Indignation seethed in the minds of Clavtonites. Benny was on trial for his life. Benny—big, lop-eared, lovable Benny, liound-dog hunter owned by our esteemed fellow-citizen, little old Jake Herendeen, who lived alone on his ecraggily uphill farm just out of town. Benny bite a child? That was unthinkable! We wouldn't believe it—any more than that Jake himself, woebegone, timorous old fellow, would hurt a baby. There even was. talk of physical violence against H. Sylvester Leftcomb, wealthy owner of the huge estate on the other side of Bald Hill, who had brought the charge. He claimed that Benny had bitten his eight-year-old son, Junior. "It'e a danged shame!" growled Lon Keller to me, as we sat on one of the hard benches listening to the trial. "Easy enough to see what happened. Benny was simply roamin' through the

woods, practising—same as any hunt-1 ing dog will do in his spare time. That Junior brat—as usual—was probably doin' somethin' he hadn't ought to, and accused Benny to cover up. Trouble is, Benny ain't got no eye witnesses — and he can't talk." Which was too true. Lawyer Jim Fitzgerald, defending Benny, could merely advance theories and call various townsfolk to testify to the dog's normal docility. But Appelbauin, slick city lawyer hired by Leftcomb, rattled the defence witnesses under cross-examination, and tore Lawyer Fitzgerald's theories to shreds. Then Jim Fitzgerald offered the hypothesis that Junior had been trespassing and that Benny had merely meant to do his duty by driving him off the premises. • e • • That was a bad move. Leftcomb leaped up and bellowed that his car had stopped on the public highway while his chauffeur examined the motor, that Junior had wandered away to pick flowers by the roadside, and that "that vicious beast" had attacked the child without provocation. "I'll bet the dog never touched the moon-faced little brat!" Lon growled to me. "Plain to see that mark on his leg that he says was made by Benny's teeth is only a briar scratch. Everybody knows what Leftcomb is drivin' at." "What's he driving at?" I asked. • "I haven't heard." "You haven't?" Lou whispered in surprise. "He's been after that spring in Jake's east pasture for weeks. Wants to buy it and pipe it to hie golf course. But Jake don't want to sell 'cause it's where his cows drink. This complaint against Benny is just a way of forcin' Jake to sell or of getting the spring in, lieu of damages. The skunk! Benny ain't guilty no more'n I am." But there was more than damages at stake. Under the State law, if Benny were convicted of viciousness, the dog must he killed. And Benny was lonely old Jake's sole companion. Moreover, he was the playmate of all the youngsters in town, besides being the best hunting dog for miles. Benny guilty? He just couldn't be! He was the friendliest dog in the world! But we knew that Judge Marble, regardless of what his personal feelings might be, would hold to the letter of the evidence as presented. And the evidence seemed to be decidedly against Benny. Benny hadn't any direct witnesses.

I At last Judge Marble declared a recess, | and we all wandered out to inspect the new community dock that poked out into Long Pond in front of the courthouse. To our surprise, Leftcomb ancl Junior followed us. You'd have thought Leftcomb would keep away from us, with indignation running so high. But be didn't. And suddenly he made us angrier still by shouting at little old Jake, who had Benny on a chain. ✓ "Keep that vicious beast away from my son! The brute has attacked him once! Keep him away, I tell you!" Jake stood there open-mouthed, hardly knowing what to say, while a murmur arose among the rest of us. K Meanwhile, the youngsters, who had tagged along with us, weren't losing any time showing what they thought of Junior. Kids have a way of doing that more or less primitively. While Leftcomb was making a show about the dog, Junior was being pushed around. One kid after another gave him a shove. Junior, fat and not very agile, bounced this way and that and was beginning to cry when suddenly— Off he went! Splash into the water! A gurgling cry and down he sank! His father nearly went insane. "Save him!" he shouted frantically. "He can't swim! Save my eon—save him!"

Short Story

Young Pete Lathrop started to dive after him but, quick as anything, lon Keller jerked Pete back. Then he snapped Benny's chain loose, grabbed the big dog in his arme and, with a mighty iheave, flung him into the water. Benny hit the water swimming. He turned and in an instant had Junior by the collar and was paddling toward the dock. We all had a hand in dragging them both out. We cheered Benny for all we were worth, and the big hound shook himself all over the kids who were trying to hug him. Lon stepped over to Leftcomb. "See that?" he snapped. "He's vicious, eh? Bite your son, would he? When he's just gone in and saved him from drowning!" Leftcomb held up- one hand. A look of pain was on his face. "Wait," he pleaded. "Wait. You're right. Gentlemen," he said, addressing the crowd, "I—l'm wrong about the dog. My boy might have been drowned. The dog—saved liim. He—" Leftcomb couldn't go on. He knelt and clutched the boy in hie arms.

Then, suddenly, he took out his wallet and pressed a fifty-dollar bill into old Jake's hand. "It's only a—a small token—of my appreciation," he said. "And—my lawyer will ask the judge to dismiss the case against the dog." With that, he hurried the dripping Junior away and bundled him into his car. A little later I happened to overhear a conversation between Lon Keller and young Buddy Clark, one of the small boys who had been on the dock. "You did a pretty good job, Buddy, givin' Benny a chance to be a hero— didn't you?" Lon asked. "Who —me?" Buddy returned artlessly. "Benny was a hero all right, but I didn't have anything to do with it, Mr. Keller." "No-o-o?" Lon mused. "Sort of helped Junior to fall, didn't you?" Suddenly, Buddy grinned. "Well, I did give him a good sock when he was tipping," he admitted. "The big baby—he was too scared to. remember it when he canie out, but he had it comin' to him— tryin' to frame Benny!" "Um-m-m," Lon nodded. "Let's me and you, Buddy, go down to Bishop's and get some ice cream." (Copyright, 1937, by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.) (The characters in this story are fictitious.)