cried out to him not to mangle the defenseless.

Wherefore, he stood, irresolute; alert for sign of movement on
the part of his foe. But there was no such sign. And the light
bullet-graze on his hip was hurting like the very mischief.

Moreover, every window in the house beyond was blossoming forth
into lights. There were sounds,--reassuring human sounds. And
doors were opening. His deities were coming forth.

All at once, Laddie stopped being a vengeful beast of prey; and
remembered that he was a very small and very much hurt and very
lonely and worried puppy. He craved the Mistress's dear touch on
his wound, and a word of crooning comfort from her soft voice.
This yearning was mingled with a doubt lest perhaps he had been
transgressing the Place's Law, in some new way; and lest he might
have let himself in for a scolding. The Law was still so queer
and so illogical!

Lad started toward the house. Then, pausing, he picked up the bag
which had been so exhilarating a plaything for him this past few
minutes and which he had forgotten in his pain.

It was Lad's collie way to pick up offerings (ranging from
slippers to very dead fish) and to carry them to the Mistress.
Sometimes he was petted for this. Sometimes the offering was
lifted gingerly between aloof fingers and tossed back into the
lake. But, nobody could well refuse so jingly and pretty a gift
as this satchel.