The Master, turning at sound of the yell, was just in time to see
the attack. The collie,--supposedly ninety miles away, and
peacefully guarding the Place,--was hurtling through the air and
crashing against the chest of a gray-faced and pop-eyed young
negro. To earth went the two; in a cloud of dust; a second before
the Master's sharp call brought Lad reluctantly away from his
prey, and just as a policeman and a score of idlers came running
up.

The thief did not wait to explain. No sooner did he see the
Master catch the infuriated dog by the ruff than he scrambled to
his feet; ducked under the policeman's arm and set off, around a
corner, in something better than record time. Somehow, the
encounter had deprived him of the nerve and the pluck to stand
his ground and to explain that he had merely been trying to help
with the luggage. His only desire, just then, was to put as many
thousand miles as possible between himself and the tawny demon
that had assaulted him.

"Laddie!" gasped the Mistress, unbelieving, as the policeman and
most of the little crowd set off after the fugitive. "LADDIE!
What in the world--?"

"He--he must have been in the car, all the time," gabbled the
Master, brilliantly. "He must have jumped in, while we were at
breakfast. See, he's cleared a space for himself between two of
the bags. He's been there, all the time, and we never--"

"If he hadn't been there," suggested the Mistress, "we'd be
looking now for one or two pieces of luggage that had