emotions were overwhelmed by the might of his rage. He 29 was conscious only of the humiliating fact that this hideous man-faced dog had fastened itself on him, and there hung. Zeke bent and twisted, his two hands on the creature’s jaws. Then he set himself to wrench them apart. His strength, great as it was availed nothing against that remorseless grip. The resistance goaded him to fury. He gave over the effort to prise the teeth apart, and put all his might into a frenzied pull. There were instants of resistance, then the hissing noise of rending cloth. A huge fragment of the stout jeans was torn out bodily. Zeke hurled the animal violently from him. The leash was snapped from the girl’s hands. The dog’s body shot across the cabin, hurtled against the wall. The indomitable brute tumbled to the floor, and lay there stunned. But even in defeat, he carried down with him between rigid jaws the blue-jeans banner of victory.

With a bound, the girl crossed the space, and fell on her knees beside the inert form, crooning over it pitifully. In the same moment, the gust of anger in Zeke ended. He stood motionless, except for his quickened breathing, with eyes fast on the girl. Remorse stabbed him as he realized her distress, for which he was responsible. He went toward her hesitatingly, forgetful of bag and stick, which had fallen at the outset of the mêlée. He ventured to address her, stammering confusedly. 30

“I ’low he hain’t daid, nor nothin’ like thet,” he said; “jest takin’ a nap-like.” His wrath gave a final flicker, as he looked down at the ugly face cushioned within the girl’s hands. “An ornery critter like thet-thar pup ought to be kept shet-up,” he concluded spitefully.

The girl lifted a face in which blue eyes were flaming.

“It’s you ought to be shut up, you horrible man!” she cried. “And you will be. I’ll see to that.”

“Now, don’t be plumb foolish,” Zeke expostulated. “The varmint hain’t hurt none—not a mite, ma’am.”

“Beast!” the girl ejaculated, concisely.

Zeke retorted with high indignation.

“I jest nacher’ly hain’t a-goin’ to stand still an’ say ‘Thank ye!’ while I’m bein’ et up piecemeal by no dawg—specially one with a face like his’n.”

He would have said more, but paused with mouth agape, eyes widening, his expression horror-stricken. For, just then, the bull-terrier snorted loudly, and unclosed its red eyes. The clenched jaws, too, relaxed. Thus released, the broad strip of jeans fluttered to the floor. Its movement caught Zeke’s gaze. He recognized the cloth. The ghastly truth burst in his brain. In an agony of embarrassment, he clasped his hands to that portion of his person so fearfully despoiled. Moved by his 31 sudden silence, impressed perhaps by some subtle impact of this new and dreadful emotion on his part, the girl looked up. She, too, had noted subconsciously the fall of the cloth from the dog’s jaws. Now as she saw the young man’s face of fire and observed his peculiar posture, she understood. Her own crimson cheeks rivaled those of the afflicted one. She turned and bent low over her reviving pet. Her shoulders were shaking, Zeke was shuddering.