Rhuburger was all-but delirious with fright. His throat was
scored by the first raking of Lad's teeth; but in the merest of
flesh-wounds. The chewed arm was more serious; but no bone or
tendon was injured. A fortnight of care would see it as good as
new. By more or less of a miracle, no bones had been broken and
no concussion caused by the backward dive down the flight of
steps. There were bad bruises a-plenty; but there was nothing
worse.
As the Master and the few others who had descended the steps were
working over the fallen man, the Mistress checked the turmoil on
the veranda. At Lad's leap, memory of this speed-mad motorist had
rushed back to her.
Now, tersely, for the benefit of those around, she was
identifying him with the killer of Lady; whose death had roused
so much indignation in the village. And, as she spoke, the people
who had clamored loudest of mad dogs and who had called so
frantically for a gun, waxed silent. The myriad glances cast at
the prostrate and blubbering Rhuburger were not loving. Someone
even said, loudly
"GOOD old Laddie!"
As the Mistress and the Master were closing the house for the
night, a car came down the drive.
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