to the frightened girl behind the
table. Then, as she did not answer him, he came a few steps nearer.

It was more than enough for Mary. She gave a terrified shriek and ran
for the nearest cover--the half-open door of the back kitchen behind
her. She banged it violently as she dashed through. There was no lock
on the door, so she could not stay there--but the window stood open, and
Mary went through it with all the nimbleness of fear. She came out into
the yard where the way lay clear to the house; and across the space
went Mary, cometwise, a vision of terror and flying cap strings, each
moment expecting to hear pursuing feet. Puck, the Irish terrier,
sleeping peacefully on the front verandah, leapt to his feet at the
sudden bang of the back door, and came dashing through the house in
search of the cause. Mary, half sobbing, welcomed him with fervour.

"Good dog, Puck!" she said. She reconnoitred through the nearest
window.

The Indian had come out of the kitchen, and now stood on the back
verandah, his dark face working. He looked uncertainly about him. Then
the back door opened a few inches--just so far that an enthusiastic
Irish terrier could squeeze through--and Mary's voice came.

"Good dog, Puck!--sool 'im!"

The door banged again, and the heavy lock shot home. Mary flew back to
the window, shutting and locking it frantically. She watched.

Puck wasted no time. He dashed at the hawker, with every fighting
instinct aroused, and the Hindu leaped back quickly, seizing with one
hand a broom that leaned against the wall. He met the terrier's
onslaught with a savage blow that sent the little dog head over heels
yards away. Puck picked himself up and came again like a whirlwind.
Then Mary screamed again, for the Hindu dropped the broom, and
something flashed in the sunlight--a long knife that came swiftly from
some hiding place in his voluminous draperies. He crouched to meet the
dog, his eyes gleaming, his lips drawn back from his teeth.

Puck was no fool. He arrested himself almost in midair, and planted
himself just out of the hawker's reach, his whole enraged little body a
vision of defiance, and barked madly. The Indian moved backwards,
uttering a flood of furious speech, while for each step that he moved
the terrier advanced another. Then Mary's heart gave a sudden leap; for
the hand that held the knife suddenly went behind him as he reached for
his pack and swung it to his shoulder. Puck was nearly upon him