There is no time for John to turn and fly, and pick up the child on the
way.

The dog is upon him.

John has only a chance to drop on his knee, and thrust his left arm
forward.

Those who are watching, and they are many, hold their breath in dread
suspense.

"Heaven preserve him!" says Lady Ruth, wringing her clasped hands in an
agony of fear.

They see the youth, he is hardly more, offer his bound arm to the beast,
and those glittering fangs at once close upon it.

Then, quick as a flash, having filled the dog's jaws, John Craig throws
himself forward, his whole effort being to crush the animal to the
ground by his weight.

It is the work of a strategist. A veteran hunter when met by a fierce
panther could not do better than this.

As John has expected, the dog, taken by surprise, does not offer the
resistance that his powerful strength would warrant, but is at once
borne backward, nor can he release his hold from the cloth-bound arm
which his teeth have seized upon.