But
now this same man was lying still and helpless under him. And the
sporting instincts of a hundred generations of thoroughbreds
cried out to him not to mangle the defenseless.
Wherefore, he stood, irresolute; alert for sign of movement on
the part of his foe. But there was no such sign. And the light
bullet-graze on his hip was hurting like the very mischief.
Moreover, every window in the house beyond was blossoming forth
into lights. There were sounds,--reassuring human sounds. And
doors were opening. His deities were coming forth.
All at once, Laddie stopped being a vengeful beast of prey; and
remembered that he was a very small and very much hurt and very
lonely and worried puppy. He craved the Mistress's dear touch on
his wound, and a word of crooning comfort from her soft voice.
This yearning was mingled with a doubt lest perhaps he had been
transgressing the Place's Law, in some new way; and lest he might
have let himself in for a scolding. The Law was still so queer
and so illogical!
Lad started toward the house. Then, pausing, he picked up the bag
which had been so exhilarating a plaything for him this past few
minutes and which he had forgotten in his pain.
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