"I
saw 'em, myself. And when a dog is fighting, he's bound to get
bit. I'm not here to argue over it. I'm here to enforce the law
of the sov'r'n State of Noo Jersey, County of P'saic, Township
of--"
"But the law declares a prisoner innocent, till he's proved
guilty," urged the Mistress, restraining the Master, by a light
hand on his restless arm. "And Lad's not been proved guilty. It
isn't proved he was bitten, at all. I can testify he wasn't. My
husband washed the scratch and he can tell you it wasn't made by
a bite. Any veterinary can tell you the same thing, at a glance.
We can establish the fact that Lad was not bitten. So even if the
law lets you shoot a bitten dog,--which I don't believe it
does,--it doesn't empower you to shoot Lad. Why!" she went on,
shuddering slightly, "if Lad hadn't sprung between that brute and
myself, you'd probably be wanting to shoot ME! For I'd have been
bitten, terribly, if Lad hadn't--"
"I'm not here to listen to silly nonsense!" announced Wefer,
glaring at the watchful dog and back at the man and woman, "I
came here in p'soot of my sworn dooty.
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