isn't more or less dangerous; unless it's
carefully washed out and painted with iodine. But that's no excuse to
go around the country, shooting every dog that some sick mongrel has
snapped at. Put such dogs under observation, if necessary; and then--"

"You talk like a fool!" snorted Wefers, in lofty contempt. "I--"

"But I am going to keep you from acting like a fool," returned the
Master, his hard-held temper beginning to fray. "You say you've come
over here to shoot my dog. If ever anyone shoots Lad, I'll be the man
to do it. And I'll have to have lots better reason for it than--"

"Go ahead, then!" vouchsafed the constable, fishing out a rusty service
pistol from his coat-tail pocket. "Go ahead and do it yourself, then;
if you'd rather. It's all one to me, so long's it's done."

With sardonic politeness, he proffered the bulky weapon. The Master
caught it from his hand and flung it a hundred feet away, into the
center of a clump of lilacs.

"So much for the gun!" he blazed, advancing an the astounded Wefers.
"Now, unless you want to follow it--"

"Dear!" expostulated the Mistress, her sweet voice atremble.

"I'm an of'cer of the law!" blustered the offended constable; in the
same breath adding:

"And resisting an of'cer in the p'soot of his dooty is a misde--"

He checked himself, unconsciously turning to observe the odd actions of
Lad.

As the Master had hurled the pistol far from him, the collie had sped
in breakneck pursuit of it. Thus, always, did he delight to retrieve
any object the Mistress or the Master might toss for his amusement. It
was one of Laddie's favorite games, this fetching back of anything
thrown. The farther it might be flung and the more difficult its
landing place, the more zest to the sport.

This time, Lad was especially glad at the diversion. From the voices of
these deities of his, Lad had gathered that the Master was furiously
angry and that the Mistress was correspondingly unhappy. Also, that the
lanky and red-bearded visitor was directly responsible for their stress
of feeling. He had been eyeing alternately the Master and Wefers;
tensely awaiting some overt act or some word of permission which should
warrant him in launching himself on the intruder.

And now, it seemed, the whole thing was a game;--a game wherein he
himself had been invited to play a merry and spectacular part.
Joyously, he flew after the hurtling lump of steel and rubber.

The Master, facing the consta