Here he paused. For Lad was anything but a fool. And, like other
wise collies, he had sense enough to realize that a swimming dog
is one of the most helpless creatures in the universe; when it
comes to self-defense.
Ashore, or in water shallow enough to maneuver his powerful body,
Lad could give excellent account of himself against any normal
foe. But, beyond his depth, he would fall easy victim to the
first well-aimed paddle-stroke. And he knew it. Thus, hesitant,
his snarling teeth not two yards from the canoe, he stood
growling in futile indignation at the cranky craft's crankier
occupants.
The girl who remained on shore plucked up enough panic-courage to
catch her gaudy pink parasol by the ferule and to swing its heavy
handle with all her fear-driven strength at Lad's skull. Luckily,
the aim was as bad as it was vehement. The handle grazed the
dog's shoulder, then struck the lake with a force that snapped
the flimsy parasol in two. Whereat the girl shrieked aloud; and
scuttled back as Lad spun around to face her.
But she might as well have spared herself the scream.
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