Firearms and explosives were no good. Wait a minute! Get the monster to open its mouth, wide, then shoot straight down its throat, using an explosive charge that would blow his innards to bits. Kill him instantly-yes, sir! Lots of animals had armor-turtles, rhinos, armadillos, and things-but always outside, not inside. This brute was no exception; Chief Dreiser had had several looks down inside that big mouth the time he had tried poison. The beast might be armor plate outside; inside he was pink and moist and soft like everybody else.
Now let’s see; he’d have the Stuart boy tell the brute to hold its mouth open and. . . no, that wouldn’t do. The boy would see what was up and like as not would order the beast to charge. . . and then some cops’ widows would draw pensions. That boy was going bad, no doubt of it. . . funny how a good boy could take a wrong turn and wind up in prison.
No, the thing to do was to get the kid downtown on some excuse and carry out the order while he wasn’t around. They could entice the brute into saying “ah!” by offering him food. . . “tossing it to him,” Dreiser amended.
He glanced at his clock. Today? No, he wanted to choose the weapon and then rehearse everybody so that it would go like clockwork. Tomorrow early. . . better have the boy picked up right after breakfast.
Lummox seemed contented to be home, ready to let bygones be bygones. He never said a word about Chief Dreiser and, if he realized that anyone had tried to harm him, he did not mention it. His naturally sunny disposition displayed itself by wanting to put his head in Johnnie’s lap for cuddling. It had been a long time since his head was small enough for this; he merely placed the end of his muzzle on the boy’s thigh, carrying the weight himself, while Johnnie stroked his nose with a brickbat.
Johnnie was happy only on one side. With the return of Lummox he felt much better, but he knew that nothing had been settled; presently Chief Dreiser would again try to kill Lummox. What to do about it was an endless ache in his middle.
His mother had added to his unhappiness by raising a loud squawk when she saw “that beast!” returned to the Stuart home. John Thomas had ignored her demands, threats, and orders and had gone ahead stabling his friend and feeding and watering him; after a while she had stormed back into the house, saying that she was going to phone Chief Dreiser. Johnnie bad expected that and was fairly sure that nothing would come of it . . . and nothing did; his mother remained in the house. But Johnnie brooded about it; he had a life-long habit of getting along with his mother, deferring to her, obeying her. Bucking her was even more distressing to him than it was to her. Every time his father had left (including the time his ship had not come back) he had told Johnnie, “Take care of your mother, son. Don’t cause her any trouble.”
Well, he had tried . . . he really had! But it was sure that Dad had never expected Mum to try to get rid of Lummox. Mum ought to know better; she had married Dad. knowing that Lummox was part of the package. Well, hadn’t she?
Betty would never switch sides like that. Or would she?
‘Women were very strange creatures. Maybe he and Lum ought to bach it together and not take chances. He continued to brood until evening, spending his time with the star beast and petting him. Lummie’s tumors were another worry. One of them seemed very tender and about to burst; John Thomas wondered if it ought to be lanced? But no one knew any more about it than he did and he did not know.
On top of everything else, here Lummie was ill. . . it was just too much!
He did not go in to dinner. Presently his mother came out with a tray. “I thought you might like to picnic out here with Lummox,” she said blandly.
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