But if you expect me to believe that Laddie did
all this weird damage to your manuscript and your collection and
your room,--why, that's absurd! Utterly absurd! Lad, never in his
life,--"
"The courts will think otherwise!" blazed Garretse, losing a
fraction of his hard-held selfmastery. "And the case shall go
through every court in the land, since you persist in this
idiotic denial of a proven fact. I warn you, I shall--Look
there!" he broke off, furiously, leveling a shakily vehement
forefinger at Lad. "Watch him! He's prowling around, even now, in
search of more things to injure. He--"
The author finished his sentence by catching up a heavy metal
paperweight and drawing it back as if for a throw. His muscles
flexed. The Mistress moved, as by accident, between the raging
man and the dog.
The Master, for the moment, lacked presence of mind to do even
that much for his canine chum's safety. He was too much taken up
in glaring unbelievingly at Lad.
The sedate collie, after following the bevy of excited humans
upstairs, had stood gravely, just inside the threshold; looking
with keen interest from one to the other of the gesticulating and
noisy group.
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