The Highly Trained Dogs of Professor Petit (Nancy Pearl's Book Crush Rediscoveries)

by Carol Ryrie Brink

  Willie went to the front door of the prison to see the jailer. But the dogs all ran around beneath Professor Petit’s window to show their master that they were ready for a performance.

  “Take a box to one of the prisoners?’’ cried the jailer when Willie wished to hand him Sancho’s box. “Of course not! How do I know that it does not contain a saw or a couple of bed sheets or a pistol or a rope? I couldn’t think of taking a box to one of the prisoners.”

  “But look,” said Willie, “it has nothing but alphabet blocks in it. There is not the least bit of harm in the box. Please give it to Professor Petit.”

  “No,” said the jailer. “This man is a magician of some kind with his sheep killers and his talking dogs. I’ll admit that the blocks look innocent enough, but they are probably full of keys or small bottles of poison or other wicked magic. No, indeed! I’ll not run the risk of giving anything to the prisoner.”

  In vain Willie argued, and at last he was obliged to give up any thought of getting Sancho’s box to Professor Petit by way of the jailer. He went around to the side of the prison to tell the showman his difficulties and there were the dogs, with ladder, basket and rope ball, waiting to begin their performance.

  “Alas, Professor!” said Willie. “I don’t know how I am to get the blocks up to you. The jailer refuses to take them, and your window is too high to reach.”

  “Think a moment,” said the professor. “The dogs are ready to help you.”

  Willie looked around, thinking as hard as he could.

  There was a large tree in the prison yard, but even if he could climb it, the tree was not quite near enough to Professor Petit’s window for Willie to be able to pass the box to him. The box was also too large to be handed through the bars.

  The dogs stood around Willie wagging their tails and wishing to be helpful.

  “If Grushenka could toss the ball of rope over the branch of the tree,” Willie said, “while Tip held one end of it in his mouth—”

  “Yes, yes,” said the professor.

  “And then,” continued Willie, “if Prince, holding the other end of the rope in his teeth, could jump high enough for you to catch hold of that end of the rope—”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you could fasten your end of the rope to one of the bars of the window—”

  “Yes.”

  “And then I could make Tip’s end of the rope quite fast to the tree, so that the rope was stretched tight between the tree and the prison window.”

  “Yes, yes!” said Professor Petit excitedly.

  “And then I could hold Liddy’s ladder up against the tree, and she could climb up to the tightrope and walk across.”

  “That’s right! That’s it! It can be done!”

  “But Professor,” Willie cried, “Liddy could never carry the box across the tightrope, and you could not get it through the bars, if she did.”

  “Try her with the basket, Willie,” cried the professor. “Put only a few blocks in the basket at once. She will have to make several trips across the rope.”

  It was a difficult thing to do, but the dogs were wonderfully helpful. At Willie’s command Grushenka began tossing up the ball of rope under the branch of the tree while Tip held one end of the rope in his mouth. Each time the rope ball fell back, it tangled and unwound, and Willie was obliged to rewind it and ask the dogs to try again. Willie tried to toss it up himself, but he was not able to send it as high as Grushenka could. She balanced the ball on her nose, made a great leap into the air, at the same time tossing with her head, and the ball really soared. At the fifth try, the ball went over the limb and came down in a shower of rope on the other side.

  Now, at Willie’s direction, Prince took up the end of the rope in his teeth and began to leap upward toward the prison window. Prince was larger and could leap much higher than Grushenka although he did not have her skill at tossing a ball.

  Professor Petit thrust his hand out of the prison window between the bars, and as Prince made his most prodigious leap into the air, the professor was able to grasp the rope and hold it. Now Willie made Tip’s end of the rope fast to the tree trunk, and the professor tied his end of the rope securely around one of the window bars. The rope was stretched between the limb of the tree and the prison window.

  When Liddy saw the rope stretched tight, she began to bark and dance about with eagerness to perform her act. But first Willie put a few of the alphabet blocks into the basket.

  “How many blocks do you think she can carry, Professor?”

  “The basket is large and heavy,” said the professor. “We must not expect too much of her. Let me see, there are twenty-six letters in the alphabet. Let us discard x and z, which are not very useful letters in spelling, and that will leave twenty-four blocks. Now, if she could carry six blocks at each trip, she would have to make only four trips across the rope. Try six blocks, Willie.”

  Liddy took the handle of the basket in her mouth, and, with six blocks in it, she was able to carry it easily with her four feet on the ground.

  “But will she be able to carry it across a tightrope so high in the air? And, if she should fall, won’t she hurt herself?” Willie wondered.

  “It is dangerous,” Professor Petit said, “but I think she can do it. However, Willie, take off your jacket and let Prince and Grushenka hold it by its edges in their mouths, so that, if she falls, the outstretched jacket will act as a net to break her fall.”

  Willie did as the professor advised. Prince and Grushenka were stationed beneath the tightrope, holding Willie’s outspread jacket. Tip was given the basket to hand up to Willie as soon as it was needed. Willie put Liddy up on his shoulder and then raised the ladder against the tree. Liddy stepped upon the first rung of the ladder and, while Willie held the ladder in place with one hand, he reached down with the other hand, took the basket from Tip, and handed it to Liddy. Liddy took the handle of the basket in her mouth and began to climb the ladder. She went very slowly for the heavy basket bumped against the rungs of the ladder as she went up. The dogs were all very silent and tense. They felt the importance of the act and the difficulty of bringing it to a successful conclusion.

  Slowly Liddy climbed to the limb of the tree. She rested there a few moments, looking down at Willie and the three dogs and then across at her master and Sancho. She shivered a little and shook herself. Then she wagged her tail, and stepped out very daintily onto the stretched rope, carrying the basket in her mouth. The rope swayed under her weight, but the little dog kept her balance. She began to go forward very cautiously, one foot ahead of another foot until she was halfway across the rope. There a sudden trembling seized her and she paused as if she wished to turn around and retrace her steps. Prince and Grushenka stood staunchly below, holding the coat to catch her. Willie and Tip remained perfectly still, unable to breathe freely until she should reach the other side.

  “Come, Liddy. Come, my girl,” said Professor Petit very softly. “I know that you can do it.”

  With a little rush of confidence Liddy suddenly moved forward, and in a moment she was safe on the window ledge, still holding the basket in her mouth.

  The professor was able to rest the basket on the ledge while he removed the blocks. Then he patted the little dog on the head and she covered his hand with kisses. She was so pleased with herself that she almost wiggled off the narrow window sill.

  “You have done very nobly, Liddy,” Professor Petit said, “but you must remain calm, for your work is not yet completed.” He put the empty basket into her mouth, and she returned slowly across the rope to the tree and the ladder. Willie had another six blocks ready to put into the basket, and so the little dog made three more perilous journeys to and fro across the rope. When all the blocks except x and z had been transported, the friends could draw easy breath again. Willie put on his jacket, and the four highly trained dogs frisked and barked.

  Up in the prison cell they heard Sancho barking also. He was very much delighted to have his blo
cks again and to be able to spell and do his arithmetic problems.

  Now Willie leaned against the tree, looking upward toward the window. Grushenka and Liddy sat on one side of him with their tongues hanging out. Prince and Tip sat on the other side of him with their tongues hanging out. They all looked up at the window awaiting news.

  At intervals the professor looked out of the window to tell them what progress he was making.

  “I have arranged the blocks,” he said, “and Sancho is looking at them. To get him into the proper frame of mind, I shall ask him to spell his name and several other words that he knows.”

  In a few moments the professor reported: “He has spelled his name. He has spelled cat, dog, and man. Now I shall ask him a question whose answer he has not been taught.”

  The other four dogs had begun to lie down now, still panting and looking anxiously up at the window. Then they heard Professor Petit’s voice asking Sancho the question that he had not been taught.

  “Who killed Farmer Olney’s sheep?”

  There was a long pause, during which the question was repeated several times. Then Professor Petit said: “He has selected the letter B.”

  The four dogs sat up again, and Willie felt the hair prickling all over his head. He is going to tell us! he thought.

  “R,” reported the professor.

  “BR,” said Willie softly.

  “U,” said Professor Petit.

  “BRU,” repeated Willie.

  “T,” said the professor.

  “BRUT,” repeated Willie. His heart began to pound. He could feel the bur in his pocket that had come from Brutus’s back. Would Sancho really tell them who had killed the farmer’s sheep?

  But now there came a longer pause than any before.

  “He will not go on,” Professor Petit said. “Something has confused him. He is very much disturbed. I think we must start all over again.”

  In vain the blocks were rearranged and the question repeated. Sancho picked out four letters, BRUT, and then he became confused, and finally rolled over onto his back, pretending to be dead.

  “Alas!” said Professor Petit, “I am afraid that we have proved nothing. My good little dog has tried his best. But how could I expect him to spell words that I had never taught him?”

  “But the name Brutus,” Willie cried. “He might know that word, Professor, because it is spelled out in large letters on Brutus’s collar. Sancho has seen it many times.”

  “That is true,” said the professor, “but, you see, he does not spell Brutus, only BRUT. We may just as well imagine he is trying to spell brute.”

  “Then perhaps it is the tiger he has in mind,” said Willie hopefully.

  “No, my dear Willie,” said the professor. “One must learn to accept defeat as gracefully as possible. My dog is willing, but the fact remains that the letters he has selected do not spell anything. We can try again tomorrow when he is rested, but I believe that we shall have to find some better way of proving his innocence than this.”

  The four dogs seemed to sense the general disappointment. They followed Willie slowly back to the caravan with their tails at half-mast.

  11

  THE OFFER REFUSED

  Hulk Hoskins’s Show was still in town the next day. He had not yet let the people of Puddling Center see enough of his tiger to satisfy them, and so they were willing to keep buying tickets for each new show, hoping to see more.

  Hulk Hoskins rubbed his hands together with delight and jingled the money in his pockets. He came to the caravan as Willie and the highly trained dogs were having breakfast.

  “Well,” said he, “did you give my message to Professor Petit?”

  “Yes, I did,” said Willie.

  “And what did he say?”

  “He refused your offer.”

  “Refused?” cried Mr. Hoskins, growing red with anger. “He refused my kind and generous offer to help him out of his troubles?”

  “He refused your offer,” repeated Willie. It did not seem necessary to add the “kind and generous” part.

  “Then let him rot in prison,” said Hulk Hoskins, “and I fully expect that they will shoot his dog as a sheep killer and a disturber of the peace.”

  “Mr. Hoskins,” said Willy, “I’d just like to know where Brutus was at the time when Farmer Olney’s sheep were killed.”

  “Brutus?” said the showman in surprise. “But Brutus is always with me.”

  “Not always,” said Willie, “for I myself have seen him roaming free at evening, hunting for food.”

  “Well, it is no use trying to pin this deed on Brutus,” said Hulk Hoskins, “for there is not a shred of evidence against him.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that, Mr. Hoskins,” said Willie. He took the bur out of his pocket and held it up delicately between his thumb and forefinger. “I have this.”

  Hulk Hoskins looked at the bur and his eyes narrowed. But then he began to laugh his unpleasant laugh.

  “A bur!” he said. “The fields are full of them, and any dog might have one in his coat. A sorry bit of evidence. Ha! Ha!”

  Soon after Mr. Hoskins had returned to his tent, Willie had another visitor to the caravan, and it was Uncle Scrivens.

  “Now, Willie,” said Uncle Scrivens, “I need you, as usual, at the post office. I’ve been very patient about this affair of the highly trained dogs. But I don’t know what your poor, dear mother would say if she knew you were the comrade of a man who is in jail.”

  “Why, Uncle,” said Willie stoutly, “Mother would be glad to see that I’m loyal to a friend, and the more so because he is in trouble.”

  “Well, I think you are out of your senses, lad. But the thing can’t go on much longer, for I understand that Professor Petit and his sheep-killing dog are to be tried this morning.”

  “This morning?” Willie cried. “So soon?”

  “Yes,” said Uncle Scrivens. “The trial has been set for this morning, so that nobody will have to miss seeing Hoskins’s tiger this afternoon. As far as I am concerned, I have paid out the last shilling I care to part with to look at the tiger. A flash of orange and black through a flaming hoop, and that’s all Hoskins lets you see of his tiger. Hoskins is a smart man. He’ll be rich. But I’m a smart man also—too smart to lose my shillings for nothing.”

  “Uncle,” Willie said, seizing Mr. Scrivens’s hand, “there’s something about you that I can’t help liking after all.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what it is,” said Uncle Scrivens crossly. “And I suppose now you’ll insist on going to this trial and not delivering my letters.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Willy. “I’m going to the trial, but I’ll deliver the letters for you this afternoon if you can wait so long.”

  It did not really matter that the letters were not delivered in the morning, because everybody in town had come to the courthouse to see Professor Petit’s trial. Nothing else was thought of. Even Miss Charmian and the children came down from school to be present.

  “For,” said Miss Charmian, “this is the first trial Puddling Center has had in years, and it should be very educational for the children.”

  Instead of walking sedately two by two, or even skipping as they had done the last time, Willie was amazed to see that the children came down from school waltzing in couples. Troubled as he was about the fate of Sancho and Professor Petit, Willie could not help thinking, “This is Tip’s doing. He has taught them how to waltz.”

  The courtroom was crowded when Willie and the four dogs entered. Willie had carefully brushed and groomed the dogs and put on their costumes, so that they would look their best in honor of their master. They came down the aisle behind Willie, wagging their tails and hanging out their tongues, for they confidently supposed that this was some new sort of performance. The people in the courtroom all turned around and craned their necks to see. Some jostled and others stood on tiptoe to look at the marvelous dogs.

  “As good as Hoskins’s tiger!” someone said.r />
  “Better,” said someone else, “for this we can really see, and it doesn’t take a penny out of pocket.”

  There was room left on the very front bench, and here Willie sat himself down with the dogs beside him. Prince sat up straight and tall with Grushenka next to him. Liddy, in her plumed bonnet, fidgeted after a flea, and Tip soon curled up and went to sleep. Still the dogs were a handsome sight, and more than one person said, “Sure, such well-behaved dogs would never chase sheep.”

  “But it’s the other one—the black one—that did the mischief.”

  “Nay, he’s a highly trained dog also. I can’t believe that any one of them would be up to such wickedness.”

  When the judge entered, everyone in the courtroom arose. Willie spoke to the highly trained dogs and they all stood up on their hind legs, although they did not know for what reason. Even Tip uncurled himself and stood up with only one eye open and the other eye still asleep. But he was doing his best.

  “Bring in the prisoners,” said the judge, when all were seated again.

  The dogs pricked up their ears as Professor Petit and Sancho were led into the courtroom, and they began to bark with pleasure. Liddy was all for jumping down to run to her waltzing partner. But Willie said: “Down, friends! Sit! Quiet now! Behave yourselves.” So the dogs sat quietly, but their ears were pricked forward and their noses wiggled with the pleasure of recognition.