his friend who had
tried to protect him from William's abuse. And all the while, Captain
Smith and the artist were watching them with kindly eyes.

At last, Shorty rose and sat on his narrow cot, with his two visitors on
either side, and Jan, planted right in front of Shorty, turned his head
from one to the other as though he were trying to understand what they
were talking about so earnestly. Shorty's hand stroked Jan's head, and
every once in awhile the man would say, "I'm so glad you found him."

"You love dogs, don't you?" asked the old poundmaster, as they rose to
go.

Shorty looked down at Jan for a second, then answered, "I never had any
friends in my life excepting dogs."

They left Shorty alone in the little grey room and went back to the men
in the big room, where the sun streamed across the floor like a tiny
river of gold, but back in the other room the window was so high and so
small that the sun could not shine through it at all. Shorty did not
think about that now.

The captain talked to the men, who listened attentively, and finally he
said, "Judge, I don't believe that any one who loves dogs and is kind to
them is bad all the way through. Shorty says he never had a friend in
his life except dogs."

"I do not think he is naturally bad," answered the judge, who sat in a
big chair back of a high desk. "From what I can learn, he has been under
William Leavitt's control since they were children. Shorty tried to get
away from his brother twice, but each time William found and punished
him so brutally that the boy was afraid to venture again. There are
scars on Shorty's feet made by a hot iron the last time he tried to
escape from his brother. Shorty is not quite nineteen yet. That is how
he comes under the Juvenile Court."

"Judge," exclaimed the captain, his face alight with eager pleading,
"you know there's lots of people that folks call bad, who would be
decent if they had a chance. Can't you give Shorty a chance to show that
he wants to make good? Send him some place where his brother can't find
him?"

"Your Honor," the artist spoke now, "if there is any way to arrange it,
I would like to take the lad up to Roseneath and we will try to help him
make good in our Land of Make-Believe, as we call our home."

Jan did not understand what they were saying, but he knew it had
something to do with Shorty and that the captain was talking very
earnestly, so the dog edged between his two friends and stood