stout stick vigorously may have had more or less to do with the
beast selecting the shorter chum as his intended victim.

Bandy-legs skipped about in a lively fashion, trying to keep himself
away from "entangling alliances" with those shiny white teeth. He also
succeeded in giving the animal several hard kicks; but instead of
discouraging the beast this rough reception seemed to make him the more
determined to accomplish his purpose.

Max could hardly follow their movements, they swung around so rapidly.
He meant to rush in at the very first opening, so as to rescue his
chum, for he saw that Bandy-legs was in a pretty bad way, with that
savage brute leaping again and again at him.

He might get his legs twisted as he sometimes did, and take a fall, when
the dog would pounce on him like a shot, and perhaps mangle him badly.
For this reason Max was bent on joining issue with the dog, and letting
him feel the hardness of the club he had picked up.

There was no chance for him to do this, good though his intentions may
have been.

Suddenly in the midst of the savage growling and chasing about he heard
Bandy-legs cry out exultantly:

"You will have it, then? Now, there's five more left if you're greedy!"

Hardly had he spoken than the big dog began to howl most mournfully. Max
could hardly believe his eyes when he saw him writhing and twisting as
if in agony, at the same time trying to rub his head with his forepaws.

"What did you do to him?" Max cried; but he might just as well have
saved his breath, for he saw what Bandy-legs was holding up, and he knew
that the other had been wise enough to fetch along with him a little
squirtgun called an "ammonia pistol," which those on bicycles who are
troubled by dogs chasing them, often carry in order to teach the brutes
a much needed lesson.

It may seem cruel to send a charge of pungent ammonia or hartshorn into
the eyes of a dog, but used with discretion such punishment is far
better than that the rider suffer a fall and possibly a broken neck, or
be mauled by a savage brute which he has not harmed in the least.

"Good-bye, Towser, old fellow!" cried Bandy-legs, mockingly, as the dog
started full-tilt for the farmhouse, yelping dolefully as he ran. "Next
time get wise to the fact that things ain't always as green as they
look. Took me for an easy mark, didn't you, but if I am a little crooked
about the pins, that doesn't mean I'm not on to a few games. Come again
when