hand on his restless arm. "And Lad's not been proved guilty. It
isn't proved he was bitten, at all. I can testify he wasn't. My
husband washed the scratch and he can tell you it wasn't made by
a bite. Any veterinary can tell you the same thing, at a glance.
We can establish the fact that Lad was not bitten. So even if the
law lets you shoot a bitten dog,--which I don't believe it
does,--it doesn't empower you to shoot Lad. Why!" she went on,
shuddering slightly, "if Lad hadn't sprung between that brute and
myself, you'd probably be wanting to shoot ME! For I'd have been
bitten, terribly, if Lad hadn't--"

"I'm not here to listen to silly nonsense!" announced Wefer,
glaring at the watchful dog and back at the man and woman, "I
came here in p'soot of my sworn dooty. I been balked and resisted
by the two of you; and my pistol's been stole from me and a
savage dog's been pract'c'lly sicked onto me. I'm an of'cer of
the law. And I'm going to have the law on both of you, for
int'fering with me like you have. And I'm going to get a court
order to shoot--"

"Then you haven't a court order or any other authority to shoot
him?" the Master caught him up. "You admit that! You came over
here, thinking you could bluff us into letting you do it, just
because you happen to wear a tin badge! I thought so. Now, my
pink-whiskered friend, you'll stop shouting and making faces; and
you'll listen to me, a minute. You aren't the first officer who
has exceeded his authority on the chance that people will think
he's acting within his rights. This time the bluff fails. With no
warrant or summons or other legal power to back him, a constable
has no more right on my place than any negro trespasser. What you