Page:Weird Tales volume 38 number 03 CAN.djvu/77

 symphony of a spring morning. Now she was moody, thoughtful, and I could tell by her eyes that she was still afraid. And I could still feel the weird aura Tsan-Lo cast. But the first cold impact of that had worn off, and I was more than ever convinced that here was only an unusual dog which, no doubt, would have to be approached and trained by unusual methods. I drove the pick-up into the yard and backed up to a run. Sally got out beside me, speculative, but said suddenly:

"Look at Buck!"

I looked. Buck was standing in front of his kennel, feet braced and head down. His ruff was bristled, his lip curled back over white fangs. The dogs nearest Tsan-Lo were walking stiff-leggedly about.

"Clint, you still have time to take that dog out of here," Sally said, forcefully.

"Uh!" I scoffed. "It's only a dog."

Just the same I opened the run, lifted the crate down, sat it inside the gate, took the two keys that were wired to the padlocks, unlocked the door, and opened the crate. Tsan-Lo walked out, and without exposing myself at all to him I withdrew the crate to close the run. Buck went crazy, leaping against the wire and snarling. He began to bark, and his eyes rolled whitely as foam dipped from his jaws. I called:

"Buck, sit!"

He continued to rage and claw at the wire, so overcome by fury—or fear?—that at first he did not hear me. A couple of the other dogs tuned in with him, and a little Golden retriever slunk fearfully into her kennel. I called, more imperatively:

"Buck, sit!"

He sat. But his head was still hunched between his shoulders and his lips drawn back in a snarl. I turned to look at Tsan-Lo. He betrayed no interest whatever in his new surroundings, merely walked to the center of the run, sat down, and turned his opaque eyes on Sally. She shrank from them, and put both hands to her mouth.

"Clint, I can't stand that dog! He'll kill me if he gets the chance!"

"Don't worry. He won't get the chance!"

I was scarcely conscious that my own voice trembled as I spoke, and at that second I wished mightily that I had taken her advice and returned Tsan-Lo to Dr. Ibellius Grut. Sally had called him a monster, and she had not miscalled him. She walked down to Buck's ran, and the big Labrador sidled over to be near her. But he did not beg for her caresses or leap against the wire. He merely sat, as though he was protecting her, and continued to watch Tsan-Lo.

"I must be going," Sally said.

"Okeh. Come back day after tomorrow and I'll show you a dog that's learned something."

"Ugh! I hope so. Be careful when you go into the run with that thing."

"Don't worry."

WAS glad when she'd gone. Not because I didn't want her around—my wildest and fondest dream was that some day I'd have her around all the time—but because there did seem to be something that menaced her in that big Chesapeake. After she'd gone, Tsan-Lo stretched out with his head on his paws. But he didn't sleep. His colorless eyes remained wide open. And he did not even lie, or move, like another dog. There was something about him very cold, and very far removed from anything I had ever 3—