Nobody spoke. The Mistress looked down at the drenched man. Then
she winked at the equally silent Master, and laid a caressing
little hand on Lad's wet head. At length, Wefers lifted his face
and glowered at the trio. But, as his eye met Lad's quizzically
interested gaze, he fidgeted.
"Well?" prompted the Master, "do you want those cartridges back?"
Wefers favored him with a scowl of utter dislike. Then, his eyes
again averted, the wet man mumbled
"I come over here today, to do my dooty.--Dogs that get bit by
mad dogs had ought to be shot.--I come over here to do my dooty.
Likewise, I done it.--I shot that dog of yours that got bit,
yest'day."
"Huh?" ejaculated the Master.
"This dog here looks some like him," went on Wefers, sulkily.
"But it ain't him. And I'll so report to the author'ties.--I done
what I come to do. The case is closed. And-and-if you folks ever
want to sell your dog, why,--well, I'll just go mortgage
something and--and buy him off'n you!"
CHAPTER III. No Trespassing!
There were four of them; two gaudily-clad damsels and two men.
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