“I tell you,” he exclaimed, “we have made a great discovery. We have
discovered the law of scared dogs. 'A dog is scared in inverse ratio to
the number of guns!' Now, it wouldn't be fair to try Fluff again without
giving him a breathing spell, but to-morrow I will come over, and we
will try him with four guns. We will work this thing out thoroughly,” he
said, “before we write to the Academy of Science, or whatever a person
would write to, so that there will be no mistake. Before we give this
secret to the world we want to have it complete. We will try Fluff with
any number of guns, and with pistols and rifles, and if we can get one
we will try him with a cannon. We will keep at it for years and years.
You and I will be famous.”
I told Brownlee that if he wanted to experiment for years with Fluff
he could have him, but that all I wanted was to get rid of him; but
Brownlee wouldn't hear of that. He said he would buy Fluff of me if he
was rich enough, but that Fluff was so valuable he couldn't think of
buying him. He would let me keep him. He said he would be over the next
day to try Fluff again.
So the next day he and Murchison and Massett came over and held a
consultation on my porch to decide how many guns they would try on
Fluff. They could not agree. Massett wanted to try four guns and have
Fluff absent only half a day, but Brownlee wanted to have me break my
shotgun in two and try that on Fluff. He said that according to the law
of scared dogs, a half a gun, working it out by inverse ratio, would
keep Fluff away for twice as long as one gun, which would be ninety-six
hours; and while they were arguing it out Fluff came around the house
unsuspectingly and saw us on the porch. He gave us one startled glance
and started north by northeast at what Brownlee said was the most
marvelous rate of speed he ever saw. Then he and Massett got down off
the porch and looked for guns, but there were none in sight. There
wasn't anything that looked the least like a gun. Not even a broomstick.
Brownlee said he knew what was the matter--Fluff was having a little
practice run to keep in good condition, and would be back in a few
hours; but, judging by the look he gave us as he went, I thought he
would be gone longer than that.
I could see that Brownlee was worried, and as day followed day without
any return of Fluff, Murchison and I tried to cheer him up, showing him
how much better we all slept while Fluff was away; but it did not cheer
up poor Brownlee. He had set his faith on that dog, and the dog had
deceived him. We all became anxious about Brownlee's health--he moped
around so; and just when we began to be afraid he was going into a
decline he cheered up, and came over as bright and happy as a man could
be.
“I told you so!” he exclaimed joyfully, as soon as he was inside my
gate. “And it makes me ashamed of myself that I didn't think of it the
moment I saw Fluff start off. You will never see that dog again.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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