"
"I only hope he won't happen upon a newborn rattlesnake or
copperhead and bring it to you for refuge," answered the Master.
"I never saw another dog, except a trained pointer or setter,
that could handle birds so tenderly. He--"
The bumping of a badly handled rowboat, against the dock, at the
foot of the lawn, a hundred yards below, checked his rambling
words. Lad, at sudden attention, by his master's side, watched
the boat's occupant clamber clumsily out of his scow; then stamp
along the dock and up the lawn toward the house. The arrival was
a long and lean and lank and lantern-jawed man with a set of the
most fiery red whiskers ever seen outside a musical comedy. The
Master had seen him several times, in the village; and recognized
him as Homer Wefers, the newly-appointed Township Head Constable.
The Mistress recognized him, too, as the vehement official whose
volley of pistol-bullets had ended the sufferings of the black
mongrel. She shivered, in reminiscence, as she looked at him. The
memory he evoked was not pleasant.
"Morning!" Wefers observed, curtly, as the Master, with Lad
beside him, stepped forward to greet the scarlet-bearded guest.
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