My Dog Pal by Gail Hamilton

Author:Gail Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wind at my back
Publisher: Davenport Press

Chapter Eight

Saturday finally arrived, and Max Sutton at last had some time to himself. Now he could get back to tinkering with the old motorcycle. It was battered but sturdy, though even the red Indian logo on the side of the gas tank was barely visible from wear. If only Max could get it going, he would have some independent transportation he could actually afford. With a final turn of the wrench, Max hopped on the seat and gave the starter a powerful kick. The motor coughed, gurgled and fizzled out Max got off again and stood back, scratching his head. It was going to take more work yet to get this veteran road warrior in working order again.

Nearby, Pal lay snoozing in the shade of a small maple, looking completely innocent of the mayhem he’d caused between the Baileys and the Gradys. He was, however, firmly on a leash, and the end of that leash was tied to the graying board fence that surrounded the yard.

When Hub strolled by, Pal jumped up and ran as close as the leash would allow, barking a happy greeting.

Max sighed and stopped working. When a Bailey boy showed up, it was sure to be with a problem. “Hello, Hubert. How are you doing?”

“Okay,” Hub said dully. “Fat and me got kicked out of the house by Grandmother because her bridge ladies are coming this morning. Fat had to go to Uncle Bob’s.”

Hub still was not speaking to Fat. He hoped Doris was giving Fat a hard time over at his Uncle Bob’s and Aunt Toppy’s. In fact, he even hoped they were playing croquet again. Doris was Hub’s and Fat’s fourteen-year-old cousin. The last time they had tried to play croquet, Doris had kicked the ball into the bushes. All three of them had ended up in a free-for-all, Doris getting the better of them despite a bloody nose.

“I see,” mused Max, distracted by the bike. “Hubert, look, I’m a little busy.”

Hub did not move. Max wiped his hands on an oily rag and noticed the wistful looks he was casting at Pal. His eyes crinkled and he smiled as he realized what the boy really wanted.

“Say, how’d you feel about walking the dog?”

“Sure!” Hub brightened instantly at the prospect.

Max was pleased at having thought of a way to keep Hub occupied and cheer him up at the same time. “All right then. Make sure you give him a

good run.”

“C’mon, Pal,” urged Hub, unhooking Pal’s leash from the fence. “Come here.”

Pal needed no persuasion. Overjoyed at being back with one of his boys, Pal leaped and cavorted all around Hub’s feet before dragging him off down the lane. Smiling at the eternally right picture of boy and dog together, Max Sutton squatted down, picked up a wrench and returned to dismantling the motorcycle’s clogged gas line yet again.

In the Bailey house, May and her six bridge ladies, the ones she had been playing with for years, sat around the table, the cards in readiness and eagerness to play on their faces.

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