hat
week he had been up with Shep to guard against mishap; and on the fifth,
worn out with his double labor, had fallen asleep at his post. But
a very little while he slumbered; yet when, in the dawn, he woke and
hurried on his rounds, he quickly came upon a mangled sheep and the
pitiful relic of his flock. A relic, indeed! For all about were cold
wee lambkins and their mothers, dead and dying of exhaustion and their
unripe travail--a slaughter of the innocents.

The Dalesmen were clustered round the old shepherd, listening with
lowering countenances, when a dark gray head peered in at the door and
two wistful eyes dwelt for a moment on the speaker.

"Talk o' the devil!" muttered M'Adam, but no man heard him. For Red
Wull, too, had seen that sad face, and, rising from his master's feet,
had leapt with a roar at his enemy, toppling Jim Mason like a ninepin in
the fury of his charge.

In a second every dog in the room, from the battered Venus to Tupper's
big Rasper, was on his feet, bristling to have at the tyrant and wipe
out past injuries, if the gray dog would but lead the dance.

It was not to be, however. For Long Kirby was standing at the door with
a cup of hot coffee in his hand. Barely had he greeted the gray dog
with--

"Ullo, Owd Un!" when hoarse yells of "'Ware, lad! The Terror!" mingled
with Red Wull's roar.

Half turning, he saw the great dog bounding to the attack. Straightway
he flung the boiling contents of his cup full in that rage-wracked
countenance. The burning liquid swished against the huge bull-head.
Blinding, bubbling, scalding, it did its fell work well; nothing escaped
that merciless torrent. With a cry of agony, half bellow, half howl,
Red Wull checked in his charge. From without the door was banged to; and
again the duel was postponed. While within the tap-room a huddle of men
and dogs were left alone with a mad man and a madder brute.

Blind, demented, agonized, the Tailless Tyke thundered about the little
room gnashing, snapping, oversetting; men, tables, chairs swirled off
their legs as though they had been dolls. He spun round like a monstrous
teetotum; he banged his tortured head against the wall; he burrowed
into the unyielding floor. And all the while M'Adam pattered after him,
laying hands upon him only to be flung aside as a terrier flings a rat.
Now up, now down again, now tossed into a corner, now dragged upon
the floor, yet always following on and crying in supplicating tone