Free Shiloh Season by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

calls the sheriff and he says someone already
    74
    reported them, that those dogs killed somebody's cat. He's got a man out looking for them.
    lil Dara Lynn's sobbing now and Becky squalls, too, just to join in. Shiloh runs from window to window, whining, standin' up on his hind legs. Meanwhile Ma's turnips have boiled dry and the pan's starting to scorch.
    Ma turns off the fire, takes Becky out on the swing, and tries to cool her own self down.
    "Let's just sit out here a spell and rest," she says. "Becky, it wasn't you got bit, so quit squallin'. Dara Lynn, you're not going to die anytime soon, so just come sit here by me. Let me have five minutes of peace and quiet or my head is going to fly straight off."
    Becky looks up at Ma's head and starts suckin' her thumb.
    Dad and I come out on the porch then with Shiloh, and we sit on the steps while Shiloh goes trotting all around the yard, smelling for a trace of those dogs. Guess a dog's nose tells him a whole lot we don't know anything about.
    "Wonder how in the world those dogs got loose," Dad says. "Judd had chains on 'em that would have held a grown man. Were they dragging their chains, Marty, or what? I didn't notice."
    "No. Looked to me like they were all unhooked at the jill collar," I tell him.
    And just when we thought we'd had about enough excitement to last us a while, here come Judd's pickup turning into our drive.
    "Well, look who's comin'," says Dad.
    Shiloh stands so still it's like he's turned to stone. He knows the sound of that pickup better'n he knows his own name, almost. And soon as it stops beside Dad's jeep and
    75
    Judd puts one foot out, Shiloh races over to our steps and crawls underneath. Seem like he don't even trust that I can save him. Got to get to some deep dark place away from the reach of Judd Travers.
    Judd comes stompin' across the yard in his cowboy boots, and his face looks like thunder. If you was to give Becky her crayons and tell her to draw it, she'd choose purple.
    "Ray Preston, I accuse you of turning my dogs loose," Judd says right off, a voice three times too loud.
    "Now calm down, Judd. I did no such thing," Dad tells him.
    "You put your boy up to it, then."
    "Marty didn't have anything to do with it."
    "Well, somebody come by and unhooked the chains on all three of 'em, and a neighbor says he saw my dogs coming off your property."
    Now Ma speaks up: "They were here all right, and one of 'em bit my daughter. Show him, Dara Lynn!"
    Dara Lynn holds up her arm and gives a loud sniffle. "If Marty hadn't got Becky, no telling what they might have done to her," Ma continues.
    But Judd don't believe it.
    "That is a put-up lie, I ever heard one. Sheriff tells me he finds my dogs, he's keepin' the one in a cage for two weeks. That's my second-best hunting dog, the black-and-white."
    "It's the only way they can tell for sure whether or not the dog has rabies," Dad says. "Any dog that bites someone has to be watched."
    "I see what you're up to, don't think I don't!" Judd goes on, like he never heard one word. "You took my best
    76
    hunting dog and now you're cooking up some story about my second-best. I'm going to lose two good weeks of hunting because of this, and I want you to loan me that beagle. I can use him."
    My heart almost explodes inside my chest. "No!" I say.
    "Judd," says Dad, "why don't you sit down? We can talk this over man-to-man without getting all hot-under-the-collar."
    "I'm not sittin', and I have nothing to say, except you owe me the use of that dog."
    Becky slides down off the swing. "You can't have him!" she says, her little neck thrust out, face all screwed up. She's sassing this big old man in the cowboy boots, but I notice she's got one hand still holdin' fast to Ma's skirt.
    "Hush, Becky," Ma tells her.
    "Judd," I say, trying my best to reason with him. "Even if we were to let you, Shiloh wouldn't go."
    "He'd go, all right," says Judd. "Where is he?" And he gives a whistle.
    Under the steps, Shiloh don't move. I