"Yo' dawg's bigger and hit ain't fair," said the other again and, seeing
Chad's worried look, he pressed suddenly forward; but Chad had begun to smile,
and was sitting down on his stone again. Jack had leaped this time, with his
first growl during the fight, and Whizzer gave a sharp cry of surprise and
pain. Jack had caught him by the throat, close behind the jaws, and the big
dog shook and growled and shook again. Sometimes Jack was lifted quite from
the ground, but he seemed clamped to his enemy to stay. Indeed he shut his
eyes, finally, and seemed to go quite to sleep. The big dog threshed madly and
swung and twisted, howling with increasing pain and terror and increasing
weakness, while Jack's face was as peaceful as though he were a puppy once
more and hanging to his mother's neck instead of her breast, asleep. By and
by, Whizzer ceased to shake and began to pant; and, thereupon, Jack took his
turn at shaking, gently at first, but with maddening regularity and without at
all loosening his hold. The big dog was too weak to resist soon and, when Jack
began to jerk savagely, Whizzer began to gasp.

"You take YO' dawg off," called Daws, sharply.

Chad never moved.

"Will you say 'nough for him?" he asked, quietly; and the tall one of the
silent three laughed.

"Call him off, I tell ye," repeated Daws, savagely; but again Chad never
moved, and Daws started for a club. Chad's new friend came forward.

"Hol'on, now, hol'on," he said, easily. "None o' that, I reckon."

Daws stopped with an oath. "Whut you got to do with this, Tom Turner?"