Unknown - Bea_s pony

The main house was in a decrepit state. Shutters hung by one hinge where there were any left. Practically all the paint had peeled from the clapboard sides, and the roof showed many barren patches were shingles had been lost and never replaced. Shades were drawn over all the windows.

"You go see your friend," Helen proposed, jumping out of the car. "I'm going to look around."

We had parked next to several vehicles already there. One, a battered pickup, bore the name of a garage in Fort Worth. I stepped out of the car and watched Helen trudge up past some of the cages, then went up the steps to the porch and rang the doorbell.

When I had not had any response for some minutes, I knocked on the door thinking that the doorbell probably did not work.

The door opened quickly, and I beheld a man in the dimly lighted hallway inside. He was dressed in a crumpled suit and asked me to please come inside.

He led me into what must have been the parlor where he offered me a seat and a cup of coffee. I accepted both. He poured the coffee from a silver pot and asked me if I would like it braced with some cognac.

I declined the brandy but complimented him on his service.

"Thank you, Miss Starr," he returned. "I presume?"

I smiled acknowledgment and looked my host over. He was a slight man, graying, and probably in his late fifties. He evinced a delicacy that didn't seem to fit his surroundings.

"There are a million and one stories here for your magazine," he revealed. "Every animal has a story to tell, don't you agree?" he asked.

"Perhaps we mightn't keep them around if they could tell it," I suggested.

He glanced at my face oddly. "What a strange thought! Ah, but you're thinking about the ponies," it occurred to him quickly.

"Mr. Felt," I said, leaning forward in my chair, "Joe Cunningham has sworn to me he sold you four ponies over the past two years. If, as you say, you have only one pony now, I am curious about what happened to the others."

"My dear," he began, "curiosity in you is a virtue I admire. I do not have to tell you, you realize, what you want to know, but I can say at least that they have died."

"Died?" I asked. "All of them? How?"

"What does it matter how?" He inquired. "Death comes to everything sooner or later."

"It doesn't always have to come sooner," I commented.

"Perhaps," he said.

"Mr. Felt," I began a new tack, "You strike me somehow as out of place here. I understand you own a garage in the city, too. None of it fits as far as I can see."

"It's true," he admitted, "I'm no farmer. You can see that outside. The fields are rented out to those who like that sort of thing. As to the garage, it is operated on a lease basis by someone else. All of these things," he opened his palms, "are just an inheritance I haven't had the heart to sell."

"Then how do you explain that truck outside?" I inquired.

"A private matter, Miss Starr, a private matter," he asserted. "Nothing to do with the business of the garage, I assure you. But why should that be of concern to you?"

"Mr. Felt," I said, "do you know a Jack Smallwood?"

"Why, yes," he replied, becoming more and more disconcerted by my interrogation. "Only casually."

"I have reason to believe Mr. Smallwood stole a valuable dog recently and that you have possession of that dog right at this moment." I had not minced my words.

His hands twisted in his lap. He appeared to become more agitated.

He stood up at once. "My dear girl, what are you saying?" He appeared flustered. "Come with me at once," he requested.

I followed him out of the room. He unlocked a door and led down a flight of stairs to another door at the bottom which he unlocked also. After that we entered a damp enclosure that was evidently a little used portion of the basement.

At one end of the damp area we entered what appeared to be a small arena or theater in the round. The seats were arranged around a small platform on which was a bed and an few straight-backed wooden chairs.

We passed through the theater area to another door that led to dressing rooms and a lounge. A man and two women were sitting around drinking and talking. The man stood up when he saw us come in.

"Elbie," Felt addressed the man. "Bring the collie out here."

The man put his drink down and walked back to a rear door. The two girls, who looked suspiciously like prostitutes, ogled me curiously. Moments later the man returned with a collie held by a leash. I recognized Clyde at once.

"Clyde!" I called.

His ears perked up and seeing me broke away from his holder and bounded in my direction.

"Clyde, you old rascal," I blurted out, hugging at him.

He licked at my face and started humping at my leg in the excitement. The man and the two women laughed abruptly.

"Maybe we can use her in the show, Felt?" the man suggested.

"I had no idea this dog was taken from anybody," Felt confessed to me. "Believe me." He seemed sincere. "I have private shows here in the evenings," he went on, "shows in which we use animals in, let us say, erotic situations with our actors."

The others seemed amused by Felt's choice of words.

"This collie was brought to me by Mr. Smallwood, who had heard about the entertainment I provide and thought I might be interested. He took no money for him. He told me he was his dog and that he could not take care of him anymore." He paused.

"What else did he tell you about him?" I asked.

"Else? Why he said the dog was a natural born actor," Felt hedged.

"What kind of an actor?" I insisted. "I want to know exactly what he said."

Felt looked embarrassed. "He said the dog liked to, uh, do it to girls."

"He does, too, lady," Elbie piped up. "He don't need drugs, either."

"Drugs?" I asked.

"Yes, does that surprise you?" Felt wanted to know.

"Do you drug the animals in your shows?" I wondered.

"Most of them will not perform unless they are drugged," Felt revealed. "This collie is a grand exception. One in a million."

As well I knew. I patted Clyde on his shoulder and thought about Helen.

"Drugs ain't good for them. He's lucky," Elbie chimed in again.

"Is that what happened to the ponies?" I asked Felt.

"It's a tough life for all of us, Miss Starr," he volunteered rather gratuitously.

"But what a way to go!" Elbie exclaimed.

The two girls giggled. One of them, who had been eyeing me during the conversation, winked. I had no explanation for it but the wink sent a hot flash through my body. Furious, I glared back at her.

"I must get my sister," I said. "She's outside waiting for me. I assume you are going to let me take the dog," I asked Felt.

"What can I say?" He smiled, throwing up his hands. "Come by some night and see the show, and bring your Clyde," he urged. "We invite audience participation at all times."

I left them laughing. Felt insisted on accompanying me back up through the house.

"Remember what I said," he reminded me at the door. "And no hard feelings?" he wanted to know.

My feelings are my own so I said: "Am I going to report the theft to the police? Is that what you want to know? The dog belongs to my sister. It was her husband who took it. Need I say more?"

He seemed astonished, and I left him in that condition.

I found Helen, or rather Clyde found Helen poking around inside a hen house looking for fresh eggs. She forgot about eggs when she saw Clyde and fell into him with joy.

"Oh, Clyde, honey," she cried deliriously, her eyes filled with tears. The dog was humping at her legs, but Helen paid no attention. "I'm so glad, so glad," she repeated burying her face in his fur. "My baby's back, my Clyde baby's back!"

Clyde kept humping at her excitedly, his pink organ inching its way out slowly. He licked at her face and began to whine.