?

She turns to face the man who a short time before positively refused to
risk his life because Miss Caprice desired it.

What can she hope from him?

As she thus turns she discovers that John Craig is no longer there,
though three seconds before his hand was on her arm.

A shout comes from the street, where, when last she looked, not a living
thing could be seen but the advancing mad dog and the kneeling child. A
shout that proceeds from a strong pair of lungs, and is intended to turn
the attention of the brute toward the person emitting it. A shout that
causes hope to thrill in many hearts, to inspire a confidence that the
innocent may be saved.

The young doctor from Chicago is seen bounding to meet the maddened
brute, now so terribly close to the child.

None knows better than John Craig what the result of a bite may be.
He has seen more than one hydrophobia patient meet death in the most
dreadful manner known to the profession.

Yet he faces this fate now, the man who was thought too cowardly to
crawl out along that bleak rock and secure a white flower for a girl's
whim.

He goes not because it will be a great thing to do, or on account of the
admiration which success will bring him. That mother's shriek of agony
rings in his ears, and if he even knew that he was going to his death,
yet would he still assume the risk.

It was on account of a mother--his own--he refused to risk his life
before, and the same sacred affection inspires his action now, for he
could never look into her dear eyes again, except in a shame-faced way,
if he allowed this child to meet death while he stood an inactive
spectator of the tragedy.

As he advances, John draws his right arm from his coat-sleeve. It is not
the act of thoughtlessness, but has been done with a motive.

When the coat is free, with a quick motion he whirls it around, so that
it rolls about his left arm.

Those who see the act comprehend his purpose, and realize that he means
to force the brute to seize him there.

All this has occurred in a very brief time. Perhaps a quarter of a
minute has elapsed since Lady Ruth turned to Colonel Lionel, and
besought his aid.

John Craig has at least accomplished one purpose. Just as the mad dog is
about to snap at the child, the young medical student snatches the boy
away, and throws him to the rear. The child rolls over and over, and
then, sitting up, begins to cry, more from surprise at the rough
treatment than b