sorts of interesting things were happening. Lad's soft eyes took
on a glint of eager curiosity; and he sniffed the still air for
further clues as to the nature of the fun. A number of
humans,--to judge by the racket,--were shouting and screaming;
and the well-understood word, "dog," formed a large part of their
clamor. Also, there were real dogs mixed up in the fracas; and
more than one of them had blood on him. So much the collie's
uncanny senses of smell and of hearing told him.

Lad whimpered, far down in his throat. He had been left here to
guard this car. It was his duty to stay where he was, until the
Mistress should return. Yet, right behind him, there, a series of
mighty entertaining things were happening,--things that he longed
to investigate and to mix into. It was hard to do one's solemn
duty as watchdog, when so much of wild interest was astir! Not
once did it occur to Laddie to desert his post. But he could not
forbear that low whimper and a glance of appeal toward the
post-office.

And now, out of the smear of flying dust, loomed a lurching black
shape;--gigantic, terrible. It was coming straight toward the
car; still almost in mid-road. Behind, less distinct, appeared
running men. And a shot was fired. Somebody had run indoors for a
pistol, before joining the chase. The same somebody, in the van
of the pursuers, had opened fire; and was in danger of doing far
more damage to life than could a dozen allegedly mad dogs.

Just then, out from the post-office, came the Mistress. Crossing
the narrow sidewalk, she neared the car. Lad stood up, wagging
his plumed tail in welcome; his tiny white forepaws dancing a jig