As the Master had hurled the pistol far from him, the collie had
sped in breakneck pursuit of it. Thus, always, did he delight to
retrieve any object the Mistress or the Master might toss for his
amusement. It was one of Laddie's favorite games, this fetching
back of anything thrown. The farther it might be flung and the
more difficult its landing place, the more zest to the sport.
This time, Lad was especially glad at the diversion. From the
voices of these deities of his, Lad had gathered that the Master
was furiously angry and that the Mistress was correspondingly
unhappy. Also, that the lanky and red-bearded visitor was
directly responsible for their stress of feeling. He had been
eyeing alternately the Master and Wefers; tensely awaiting some
overt act or some word of permission which should warrant him in
launching himself on the intruder.
And now, it seemed, the whole thing was a game;--a game wherein
he himself had been invited to play a merry and spectacular part.
Joyously, he flew after the hurtling lump of steel and rubber.
The Master, facing the constable, did not see his pet's
performance.
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