the brute was called, kept one spot warm in his callous nature, a
little patch of vegetation on the bare surface of his granite
heart. The only noble acts in the life of Moses Fletcher were acts
wrought on behalf of this dog. Years ago he risked his life to
save it, when, as a whelp, mischievous boys sought to drown it in
the Green Fold Lodge; and only a week or two ago he rescued it
from the infuriated grip of a bull-terrier, at the expense of
injuries from which he was now slowly recovering. Wherever Moses
went he was followed by his dog; and if the dog was seen alone it
was known Moses was not far distant. Now, this dog had to suffer
for Moses' sins. It was, as Mr. Penrose used to say, 'a vicarious
dog'--the innocent bearing the sins of the guilty. Affectionate,
faithful, gentle, with no spice of viciousness in its nature, it
was none the less stoned by children and tormented by man and
woman alike. One of Moses' debtors, a stalwart quarryman, once
took it on the moors and sent it home with a spray of prickly
holly tied under its tail. On another occasion, an Irish labourer,
whom Moses put in the County Court, hurled a handful of quicklime
in its eye, by which its sight had been in part destroyed; and its
glossy skin was all patched with bare spots where outraged
housewives had doused it with scalding water.

'We cornd get at _him_,' they used to say, 'but we con get at his
dog, and mak' him smart i' that road.'

The last outrage, however, was by far the most brutal, and it came
about in this manner. It was County Court day at a small market
town over the hills, and Moses, accompanied by his dog, went with
his summonses. One of these was served against a man known as
'Oliver o' Deaf Martha's'--himself the owner of the most