The
idea come to me, in a jolt, first crack of thunder I heard. Well,
I'm due to 'get' that dog and the mucker who owns him, too. Them
and I had a run-in, once; and I been honing for a chance to
square things, ever since. I've seen 'em at shows and I've asked
folks about 'em, too. He sets more store by that dog than he'd
set by most humans. He's pleased as Punch, every time the collie
hauls down a cup at one of these neighborhood shows. Well, that
dog ain't going to be fit to go to another show, for a year. He
ain't going to be fit to look at, for that long. He's going to be
a laughing stock. His owners won't brag any more about him,
neither. They'll be glad enough to keep him out of sight."
The boy, listening with ever-widening eyes, chanced to shift his
gaze to the big bowl of new-mixed dye. And a light broke on him.
"You--you're aimin' to soak him with that stuff?" he whispered,
in awe at such combined courage and genius.
"Uh-uh," assented Higham. "I don't know what color the crimson
stuff will turn the dark part of his coat. But whatever color it
is, it'll be as funny as a box of three-tailed snakes.
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