As soon as Jem left town, he let his tears leak out.
He couldn’t help it. He was tired, hungry, and angry at Will.
Why did that rich boy always make trouble?
Jem made sure his tears were dried up before he got home. He didn’t want Mama to see him cry. She would be upset enough when she saw the dirty laundry.
He gripped the handle and walked faster. The wagon bounced over the ruts. The basket bounced too, but it didn’t fall out.
When Jem got home, everything was upside down.
Mama was chasing Strike’s dog. She flapped her apron and shouted, “Drop it!”
Jem stopped short. Why was Mama yelling?
Uh-oh.
The dog had Ellie’s shoe. He ran around the tent. He ran around the cookstove. His tail wagged.
“Come here, boy!” Jem whistled and slapped his hands against his knees. “Come here.”
The dog ran to Jem and dropped the shoe at his feet. Woof!
“Good dog.” Jem patted his head.
Mama ran to Jem and picked up the shoe. Then she saw the basket of laundry.
“Oh, Jeremiah.” Mama’s shoulders sagged. She looked tired.
Too tired even to cry.
“The puppy ripped Pa’s Sunday shirt off the clothesline,” Ellie told Jem. “He dragged away my best stockings, and then he grabbed my shoe.” She sniffed. “Mama will never let us keep the dog now.”
“Roasted rattlesnakes, Ellie!” Jem yelled. “Why didn’t you take him back to Strike?”
He didn’t mean to shout. The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“I’m sorry.” Jem blinked hard. “I’m just so mad. Will and I had a tug-of-war with the basket. He let go and—” He ducked his head.
Mama could figure out the rest.
Pa came home from the creek just then. He looked at the pile of dirty clothes and sighed. He hugged Mama tight.
“Take the dog back to Strike,” he told Jem.
Jem hurried to obey.
Supper was ready when Jem got back. He gobbled up two bowls of rabbit stew. He ate three big biscuits.
I bet the pup would like rabbit stew.
Jem did not say those words out loud. He didn’t even ask if he could buy food for the dog with his very own gold.
No sirree.
Mama would not want to hear about the dog. Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
On the next Saturday, Jem asked, “Can I—may I pan for gold?”
Maybe he would find a gold nugget today.
If not, he could play with the dog. The creek was the only place he could play with him.
The golden dog had learned to stay away from Mama’s flapping apron. He had learned to stay away from Jem’s cot at night.
He was a smart dog.
Mama pulled three pies out of the big cookstove. “Yes, Jem.” She smiled. “But this afternoon you and Ellie have pies to take around.”
Jem’s belly flip-flopped. “Can Pa go with us?”
“Pa has his own work to do,” Mama said. “You always deliver pies. It’s how you and Ellie help our family.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jem scuffed the dirt with his boot toe.
Sighing, he picked up his gold pan and headed for his claim.
Jem spent the morning swishing his gold pan around. He found one tiny nugget and two gold flakes.
Ellie played with the dog.
When Mama called them home, Jem rinsed out his gold pan. He obeyed, but he did not hurry.
The wagon was filled with ten warm, dried-apple pies.
For once, Jem did not smack his lips. He didn’t ask if two small tarts would be waiting for him and Ellie.
Instead, he bit his lip and took hold of the wagon handle. “Come on, Ellie.”
Jem’s heart pounded the whole time. When he sold a pie to a miner, he almost forgot to get paid.
All he could think about was mean Will.
Pretty soon, he and Ellie would have to go into Goldtown. Would Will be waiting for them?
Woof, woof!
Jem spun around. Oh no! “Go home.” He pointed back to the creek. “Go home!”
Woof! The dog licked Jem’s hand.
“Leave him alone.” Ellie crossed her arms. “He just wants to see where we’re going.”
“He can’t come,” Jem said. “Mama will skin us alive if he jumps into the pie wagon.”
Ellie’s eyes grew big. “Ohhh.”
But nothing Jem and Ellie said or did could shoo that dog away.
They were stuck with him.
The dog did not jump into the wagon. He didn’t try to eat the pies. He didn’t grab the clean cloth in his mouth.
Instead, he stayed close to Jem’s heels. His tail wagged. His tongue hung out.
“Good dog.” Jem stopped to pet him just as they got to Goldtown.
When Jem sold a pie to the shopkeeper, the dog sat down and waited.
Two miners bought pies and petted the dog. He licked their hands.
“Nice dog,” one miner said.
“He’s the best dog in the gold fields,” Ellie said.
Jem grinned. He was probably the only dog in the gold fields. Jem hadn’t seen any others.
“Come on, Ellie.” He pulled the wagon around the corner. His grin faded.
