else. See that fat woman tumble over, will yuh! Now she rolls like a barrel to the pavement. She's nigh about scairt to death, I tell yuh! What kin it be?" exclaimed Pet.

By this time Bluff was aroused. He realized that all this tremendous excitement could not have been caused by the near approach of the circus parade. There was the sedate head of the Academy footing it for the shelter of a shoeshop as if he had entered for a hundred-yard dash. Heads were appearing at all the windows, and now shrieks began to be added to the clamor.

Bluff wondered if he were dreaming. Had all Centerville gone crazy? There was an asylum over at Merrick, but since when had its inmates broken loose and taken up quarters in Centerville?

If he had not been gripping his gun and that package of shells, Bluff might have rubbed his eyes to find out if he were really and truly awake.

"Run! run!"

It sounded as though a dozen people were shouting that word. Why should they want to get others to run? Had the lion broken out of his cage, and was he coming down the street, looking for victims?

Some boys were climbing trees with mad haste. Perhaps they did not as yet fully understand the need of such a retreat, but in time of danger it seems natural for the ordinary boy to find refuge in a tree, as though he were, in truth, descended from monkey ancestors.

Now for the first time they caught other words that were being shouted by the panic-stricken people along the street, as they rushed hither and thither, anxious to find shelter somewhere.

"Mad dog! Mad dog!"

Pet Peters gave a howl of fear. He was greatly afraid of all dogs, and the very idea of a mad cur caused him to turn white and show his craven blood.

He made a wild rush for the nearest tree, and clambered into the lower branches with a speed that would have won a medal in a race.

Bluff wanted to follow after him. He felt his nerves quivering with fright, and as he started to run his knees showed an inclination to knock together.

There was the choirmaster, Mr. Melod, chasing across the street, and heading for the milliner's establishment opposite. He was usually a very dignified man, but just then, with his hat fallen off, and fear written upon his face, he startled Bluff not a little.

"Run, Richard! Come this way, my boy!" he called, beckoning wildly; for Bluff had come to a sudden pause in the middle of the road as a sudden terrible thought flashed into his mind.

He had a gun in his hands, and ammunition in plenty. Pet Peters had just called him next door to a coward, who could only show valor when everything was on his side. Who was to stop this mad dog in his career? There were many little children around the next bend, awaiting the coming of the circus parade. What if some of them were bitten by the beast, and he with a gun in his hands?

Bluff turned as white as a ghost. His hands were shaking furiously as he broke open the package he carried. The shells fell in a heap to the road, and eagerly the boy stooped down to pick up one and push it into the magazine of the gun. Then he took up a second and a third.

There was no time for more. He would not need them. If he could not finish the mad beast with three shots it was bound to be all over with him. What that boy suffered as he crouched there, staring at the terrible brute that came around the curve in the street, no one would ever know.

He heard a clamor of voices. Some applauded his act, while others, frightened lest he fall a prey to the fury of the mad dog, cried to him to run while there was yet time. Even Pet Peters, perched securely on a limb of the tree, nearly above Bluff, shouted to him to get behind the trunk of the same.

Bluff heard this confusion as in a dream. He only saw that advancing beast, and to his eyes the yellow hound looked almost as big as a lion just then. Indeed, the brute did present a terrible aspect, with bloodshot eyes, and foam dripping from his square jaws.

Bluff could hardly raise the gun to his shoulder, in order to glance along the single barrel, but strange to say, just then it seemed as though a miracle had been wrought, for his nerves became like steel, and the gun no longer wavered.

CHAPTER II

LAYING PLANS

Like magic, it seemed, all that clamor died away.

Men and women simply stared at the terrible spectacle of that boy crouched there in the street, and that huge dog advancing directly toward him, with eager mien. Doubtless many a prayer was offered up for the safety of the lad who had thrown himself into the breach between that brute and the innocent children who thronged the square just beyond.

"Hey, Bluff! Aim right atween his bloomin' old eyes!" called Pet from his perch.

"Shoot!" shouted one man, almost wild because the dog was now so very near the kneeling boy, whom he imagined must be petrified with fear.

But Bluff was waiting. He wanted to make sure. The shot in his gun was small, and intended for birds. To render it effective against such a beast it must go at close quarters, when it would have all the force of a bullet.

Along that glistening barrel he could see the flaming eyes of the vicious dog, now not more than twenty feet away. Then he pulled the trigger!

Just as though he were shooting ducks in the slough at the foot of the lake, Bluff instantly made a movement with his hands that Jerry always likened to the action of a pump handle. Thank goodness! The locksmith had done his job well, for the mechanism of the gun worked like a charm, sending the empty shell flying, and pushing a full one into place.

He again aimed his weapon. The dog was on the ground, kicking, but even as Bluff looked he struggled up again. This was the signal for a second shot, and after that there was one last movement and the hideous creature lay there, still.

Then broke out a wild shout that was taken up along the whole street. People came thronging out of the houses to rush forward and gaze upon the monster that had sent them into such a panic of fear. A few thought to wring the hand of Bluff and thank him for what he had done.

The boy was no longer white. He had turned furiously red under these praises, and hardly knew what to do or say, it was so embarrassing. Mr. Melod, the choirmaster, wrung his hand, while tears came into his eyes.

"My dear boy, I am proud of you this day. That was a noble deed of yours, and deserves to be handed down in the annals of Centerville, as an incentive to the coming generations," he said with deep feeling.

"Oh, shucks! That wasn't so very much, sir. Any fellow with a gun would have done it. What would they have thought of me running away, and with this thing in my hands? I'm only ashamed to say I was about as badly scared as Pet here. He didn't have a gun, so he climbed a tree," stammered the boy, trying to break loose from the encircling arms of Miss Samantha Green, the old-maid milliner, who had witnessed the entire performance from the window of her shop, and was inclined to be sentimental at all times.

"Yes, I had a big stone up there with me, fellers, an' I was a-goin' tuh crack the pup on the head with it w'en he kim under the tree; but Bluff he got first say, as he allers does. It ain't fair, I tell yuh. I'd a-give the dorg a plunk that would a made him croak," declared Pet, shaking his head ferociously.

"Listen to him, will you, boys!" exclaimed Jerry Wallington, as with a quick movement he snatched from the hand of the other the rock which he had intended should demolish the big brute, and held it up. "This pebble is what Pet meant to throw at that yellow beast. Like as not it would have hurt him as much as a peashooter might. Talk to me about that for bravery, will you? Only for my chum, somebody might have been hurt. He's all to the good!"

Bluff had been watching his chance, and as soon as the excited old maid freed her arms he darted away, followed by two other