CHAPTER V

Into Empty Space

Garry Grayson obeyed the command of Mr. Fish, but not in the way that the man had intended he should.

He had dislodged the pigskin and was slipping cautiously down the roof to the ladder when the rasping cry of the old fellow startled him and made him lose his balance.

He slipped, tried to recover himself, overbalanced in the other direction, and fell, rolling over and over toward the edge of the roof!

With a yell of alarm, Bill, Rooster, Nick, and Ted rushed around to the spot where Garry seemed destined to fall. Jacob Fish himself was alarmed, for, much as he hated the young folks of the vicinity, he had had no idea of precipitating a fall.

As for Garry, the nightmare moment of losing his balance and that swift descent to the gutter of the roof seemed to occupy an eternity of time.

His clutching hands gripped empty air. He was utterly powerless to prevent the fall that must follow. He breathed a prayer, braced himself, felt all solid substance give way beneath him!

Then he became conscious of the branches of a great tree that rushed up swiftly toward him, as though to strike him in the face.

Instinctively Garry reached out and his clutching fingers caught something that bent and gave beneath his weight but did not break. It was a stout branch of an old cedar tree that grew close beside the house.

Garry hung on with all the strength of his lithe young arms and drew himself into a safer position nearer the trunk, where he sat panting and marveling at his narrow escape.

Almost simultaneously with his first slip the football that he had pushed from the chimney had come down near the house, bouncing plump on Jacob Fish's bald head.

At this indignity the old man's rage broke all bounds, and not having Garry within reach to sate his vengeance, he made a dash for the other boys, who promptly took to their heels, having first assured themselves that Garry was safe in the tree.

"And they leave me to face the music!" muttered Garry. "Just wait till I get hold of them!"

He had started to descend to the ground when the raucous voice of Jacob Fish halted him abruptly. The old man was fairly boiling over with rage. That a despised football should have descended upon his head was the crowning insult. It was past bearing. He shook his fist at Garry. His eyes glared at him.

"You stay up in that tree, you young blackguard!" he roared. "I've got you dead to rights. You will sneak up on my roof, will you! You will bounce a football on my head, will you!"

"It was an accident," began Garry.

"Don't talk to me!" roared the furious man. "I'll have none of your insolence, you young upstart. Stay where you are," he commanded, as Garry again started to descend the tree.

"I'm not a monkey. I can't hang on to the branch of a tree all the rest of my life," responded Garry, whose own temper was beginning to be ruffled by the old man's unreason.

"None of your impudence!" shouted Fish. "You try to come down out of that tree, young man, before I'm ready you should and you'll be sorry."

"I'm coming just the same," declared Garry, at the same time coming down another foot or two.

He hesitated, however, as a roar came from the enraged man. The latter was running with surprising agility for one of his age toward a large doghouse that stood a little way back in the yard.

Fish's police dog was the terror of the neighborhood, and more than one anxious parent of small children had threatened to do away with so vicious an animal.

Jacob Fish whistled to the dog, who came out from the kennel and stretched himself in leisurely, graceful fashion. He was a beautiful animal, but as fierce with strangers or those he hated as his master was. In fact, there were many who said that the venom of old Jacob Fish had entered into the dog and made him far fiercer than nature had originally intended.

Now the old man released the dog from the chain that held him to the kennel and pointed to the tree.

"Watch him, Roy! Don't let him get down! Hold him there!"

Garry looked down at the snarling dog and its snarling master. Slowly a smile crept over his face. He was about to play a joke on old Jacob Fish and the prospect pleased him immensely.

For, as it happened, the police dog and Garry were firm friends. Garry had been attracted by the beauty of the animal when Fish had first bought him. And as the lad had a great love for dogs, he determined to get on good terms with Roy.

So, frequently when he had passed the Fish house he had spoken wheedlingly to the dog behind the fence, until the brute came to know him and even thumped his tail once or twice in acknowledgment of a friendly feeling.

Thus encouraged, Garry had gone further, sometimes tossing Roy special tidbits that he had brought from his own table until the dog had been completely won over and permitted Garry to caress his head through the pickets of the fence.

Naturally, Garry had been careful to keep these advances from the steely eye of Mr. Fish, so that the latter had not the slightest inkling of the friendship that existed between his savage dog and the hated "Grayson boy."

Jacob Fish rubbed his skinny hands together with satisfaction as he viewed the situation.

"Now you'll stay there until I choose to let you come down," he gloated, "and that'll be some time yet, I'm telling you. You'll have to go without your supper, and you'll have time to think over what a graceless scamp you are."

Garry said nothing.

Jacob Fish enjoyed his triumph for a few moments, and then, as the chill evening air struck his bare head uncomfortably, he moved toward the house.

"I'll be watching you from the window," he said as he moved away. "But Roy will stay here to bear you company. I guess he'll hold you for a while. He he!" And he cackled shrilly.

He went inside the house, and a moment later Garry saw him at a window, where he had settled himself comfortably to enjoy the boy's discomfiture.

Garry lowered himself to a branch only a few feet over the dog's snapping jaws. The beast growled ominously.

"Hello, Roy!" Garry said, in the caressing tone he had always used toward the animal. "What's the matter with you, old fellow! Don't you know a friend when you see one?"

At sight and sound of him Roy seemed puzzled. The deep growl died in his throat. His ears cocked forward inquiringly. He stepped about the tree daintily, mincingly, as though about to play.

Garry, from the corner of his eye, saw that the change in the dog's attitude had not been lost upon its master. Jacob Fish had started from his chair and was staring bewilderedly at the two.

But Garry now was willing to stake all on a chance. He dropped quickly to the ground and went up to Roy, putting his hand on his head in friendly fashion.

"Good old boy!" he said. "I knew you wouldn't go back on a friend. Thoroughbreds never do."

Roy snuggled up closer to him and rubbed against him.

With a face purple with suppressed fury, Jacob Fish threw up the window.

"Wh-what does this mean!" he sputtered. "Leave my dog alone, you young scoundrel! Get out of here before I put you out."

"I'm going," said Garry calmly.

"You'd better!" shouted the man. "G-get out before I lose my t-temper."

Garry thought to himself that that temper had been lost some time before. He gave a final pat to the dog's head and started toward the gate.

His foot struck against something, and seeing that it was the football, he picked it up and got out into the street. As he rounded the tall hedge that closed in the Fish grounds he came face to face with his twin sister, Ella, and her chum, Jane Danter.

"Oh, Garry," giggled Ella. "We saw you in the tree and thought you were a new kind of bird. My, but you did look funny!"