Adults could be funny people sometimes, Molly Lauter thought. They went on and on, nagging you to remember to do stuff, and then they did things like forget to bring the apple pie Ma had made special for the big family Harvestide party.
Maybe that was why they were always nagging, because they were so forgetful themselves, they figured that everyone else was, too.
Anyway, that was why Molly had been sent scampering back to the Lauter farmhouse to fetch the pie (“And no tasting any of it, mind!”) over to the Blans’ place before it was time to eat.
She was just jogging up to the front door, when her dog stopped in his tracks next to her. It was kind of hard to tell because of his rumpled fur, but his hackles rose and he started barking. In the next moment he ran into the house, and Molly followed him through the open door.
The reason for the door being open was plain to see even as she stepped inside. Cabinets had been flung open, drawers yanked out, and generally disorder reigned, all at the hands of two scruffy-looking fellows. She was just in time to see the kneeling one jerk upright at Spot’s arrival and bank his head on the underside of a drawer.
“Yow! Dagnabit, Dan, you said th’ dog as went out with th’ rest of ‘em.”
“’E did, Theo. Looks like ‘e came back with the brat.”
Dan grinned at Molly. It was not a nice grin.
“Now, see here, girlie. We need yer help, right enough, an’ if yer gives it, ain’t no reason for ya ter get hurt.”
“Help? You’re
thieves!”
Spot continued to bark, showing that he agreed with Molly’s assessment.
“’Course we are. An’ that’s what I mean. Yer kin help us by showin’ where yer folks keep their money an’ anythin’ else worth somethin’, an’ we kin help yer by not breakin’ yer arms. Good fer ev’ryone!” His smile grew wider, revealing that his antisocial behavior included ignoring the rules of good dental hygiene.
“Aw, Dan, she’s jest a kid,” Theo revealed himself to be the less hardened criminal.
“A kid who’ll know where we kin get our hands on th’ money!”
He made a sudden grab for Molly and pushed her back against the wall.
“Now, iffin yer knows what’s good for ya, tell us what—and willya shut that dog up? What in tarnation is it, anyway?”
Spot was in fact the product of the local baron riding out hunting with his spaniels while one of the local Shetland sheepdogs was in the mood for romance. He had rather a random mix of traits, right down to the way his left ear drooped over while the right was pushed up.
“Spot’s a good dog!” Molly defended her pet.
“Yeah, well, ‘e ain’t so good at bein’ a watchdog, is ‘e? ‘E don’t shut up, Theo, you take care of him good, y’hear?”
“Aw, but Dan, what if ‘e bites, an’—“
“Big deal. ‘E’s like thirty pounds. What kin ‘e do?” He sneered at Molly. “Shoulda got yerself a real dog, kid. Now, fer th’ last time—“
Dan never got to finish his sentence, because Molly (about whom the most commonly used adjective was “spunky”) was not going to take insults to Spot lying down.
“He
is a real dog!”
“An’ what kin ‘e do ter protect ya now, hey?”
“He’s real friendly with other dogs. He even gets along with Cousin Cress’s pup.” She pointed to the door.
Shuck the barghest growled. Since he outweighed Theo and Dan put together, it was not particularly shameful to their honor as thieves that they immediately tried to run for it. The fact that they ran head-on into each other and fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs was a little less respectable.
Shuck stepped into the room and laid down on top of them. He wagged happily, tail thumping on the floor. Spot yipped with excitement that his canine friend had come in response to his alarm.
“Good boy! Now, you stay right there while I do out to the barn and get some rope to tie them up, ‘kay?”
Molly wasn’t quite as good at knots as a sailor, but she’d had lots of practice around the farm, and she soon had both thieves trussed up as thoroughly as the average roast goose.
“That should hold you ‘till I can get Ma to send the law for you. But first, I’ve got to get her this pie!”
She went to pick it up off the kitchen counter, then stopped, got out a knife, and cut a slice for each dog.
“Here you go, boys. You deserve it, for saving my neck. And I’m not even disobeying Ma, seeing as she only told me not to taste it myself, and
I ain’t having any!”
Spoiler for Author's Notes:
You'll probably notice that I swiped the two sheep rustlers from Sora's fic (which has yet to be posted to fanfiction.net, hint hint
) to be once again up to no good. Molly you might remember from "Good Intentions." Spot's brand new.