I don't want to hurt you," said Tom gently. "Let's have a
look at your nose then."

The dog looked up at him with one eye,--the other was completely shut,--
and Tom put his hand closer. Then the poor animal uttered a faint howl,
not unlike his master's; and as Tom touched the swollen side of its
head, it leaned it heavily in his hand, and whined softly, looking up
piteously the while.

"Poor old chap then!" said Tom, forgetting his own sufferings as the dog
stepped slowly off its master's chest, staggered, and then leaned up
against the friendly legs so near, drooping head and tail the while.

"Here, Pete," cried Tom excitedly, "your dog's dying."

"Eh?" cried Pete, sitting up suddenly, and looking very like the poor
brute as he managed to open one eye.

"That adder bit him. Look at his swollen head."

"So it has," said Pete. "Come here, young un!"

But the dog did not stir.

"Where's there some water?" said Tom.

"Down by the ford," replied Pete, quietly enough now.

"People would see us there. Is there none nearer?"

"There's some in the frog pond," replied Pete.

"Stop a minute; I know," said Tom. "Ah, poor old chap, then!" he cried
excitedly, for the dog suddenly gave a lurch and fell upon its side.

"I say," cried Pete wildly, as he rose to his knees, and caught hold of
one of the forelegs; "he arn't going to croak, is he?"

"I don't know; I'm afraid so. But look here, the adder's bite was
poison; wouldn't it do good to let some of the poison out?"

"Does good if you've got a thorn in your foot," said Pete, who seemed to
have forgotten all about his broken ribs, and the fact that he was
dying.

"Shall I open the place with my sharp penknife?"

"Couldn't do no harm."

Tom hesitated a moment, and took hold of the dog's muzzle, when the poor
brute whined softly, looked at him with its half-closed eyes, and made a
feeble effort to lick his hand.

Tom hesitated no longer. He opened the keen blade of his penknife,
raised the dog's head upon his knee, and examined a whitish spot
terribly swollen round, upon the dog's black nose.

"Mind he don't bite yer," said Pete, in a tone full of caution.

Tom looked at him sharply. "He has got some good in him after all," he
thought.

"That's where the adder bit him," continued Pete. "I was bit once in
the leg, and my! it was bad for days. Mind--he'll bite."

"No, he won't," said Tom firmly. "Poor old fellow, then. It's to do it
good."

As