hill-side where lay the slain sheep. Chad and Melissa saw them coming--the
whole crowd--before they themselves were seen. For a minute the boy watched
them. They were going to kill Jack where the Dillons said he had killed the
sheep, and the boy jumped to his feet and ran up the hill a little way and
disappeared in the bushes, that he might not hear Jack's death-shot, while
Melissa sat where she was, watching the crowd come on. Daws was at the foot
of the hill, and she saw him make a gesture toward her, and then the Sheriff
came on with Jack--over the fence, past her, the Sheriff saying, kindly,
"Howdy, Melissa. I shorely am sorry ta have to kill Jack," and on to the dead
sheep, which lay fifty yards beyond. If the Sheriff expected to drop head and
tail and look mean he was greatly mistaken. Jack neither hung back nor
sniffed at the carcass. Instead he put one fore foot on it and with the other
bent in the air, looked without shame into the Sheriff's eyes--as much as to
say:

"Yes, this is a wicked and shameful thing, but what have I got to do with it?
Why are you bringing ME here?"

The Sheriff came back greatly puzzled and shaking his head. Passing Melissa,
he stopped to let the unhappy little girl give Jack a last pat, and it was
there that Jack suddenly caught scent of Chad's tracks. With one mighty bound
the dog snatched the rawhide string from the careless Sheriff's hand, and in
a moment, with his nose to the ground, was speeding up toward the woods. With
a startled yell and a frightful oath the Sheriff threw his rifle to his
shoulder, but the little girl sprang up and caught the barrel with both
hands, shaking it fiercely up and down and hieing Jack on with shriek after
shriek. A minute later Jack had disappeared in the bushes, Melissa was
running like the wind down the hill toward home, while the whole crowd in the
meadow was rushing up toward the Sheriff, led by the Dillons, who were
yelling and swearing like madmen. Above them, the crestfallen Sheriff waited.