enjoy the
story.

"Well," began Lucile, "the other day Bull and his master were walking
down Main Street. You know, Jim Keller absolutely refuses to keep Bull
tied up and the only wonder is he--the dog, I mean--hasn't been poisoned
long ago, he has so many enemies. Well, Bull broke loose from Jim some
way and when he tried to find him he had disappeared. Jim went raving
around like a wild man, declaring that, 'if the dog wasn't found soon,
he'd sure get into some mischief.'"

"He showed rare perception."

"That's what we all thought--at least, you would have judged so by the
way everybody called their children in, and any one that had a pet cat or
dog went almost crazy till it was out of harm's way. Oh, there was
excitement in Burleigh that day!"

"I can imagine," interjected Mrs. Wescott, in huge enjoyment of the
picture. "Did Jim find him?"

"Not for over an hour. He ran over half the town, looking everywhere for
his Bull. At last a small boy came running and told him the dog was over
yonder and he was gettin' a 'turrible lickin'.'"

"Licking?" exclaimed Mrs. Wescott, sitting up straight in her surprise.
"Bull?"

"That was the funny part of it," Lucile went on. "Of course, Jim wouldn't
believe it was his Bull the boy was talking about, but he went with him
just the same.

"When he turned the corner he came upon a spectacle that dazed him. He
stood with his eyes and mouth wide open, gazing at Bull--it was his Bull,
but oh, disgraced forever! There he was on his back in the dust, with a
great collie making flying leaps over him. Each time he jumped those
terrible nails ripped a piece of flesh from poor Bull----"

"But I never thought a collie had half a chance against a bull dog," Mrs.
Wescott interrupted, incredulously. "And such a dog as Bull, at that!"

"Well, you see, the collie's owner explained all that afterward. He said
that Bull couldn't get at his dog's throat because of his unusually long,
thick hair--and, as a rule, that's Bull's first move, you know."

"Catch him by the throat and hang on--yes, I know," her guardian
supplemented. "Then what did Jim do?"

"He wanted to go to the rescue. I believe he would have tried to pull the
collie off with his own hands, but a man held him off, crying, 'Haven't
you any sense, man, to try to separate dogs when they're fighting?'

"'Fighting?' roared Jim. 'It isn't a fight--it's slaughter. If he's your
mutt, call him off. Don't ye see he's killin' 'im?'