But
Roodie's left arm, by instinct, flew up to guard his threatened
jugular.
Through coat and shirt and skin and flesh,--as in the case of
Lady's slayer,--the great dog's teeth clove their way; their
rending snap checked only by the bone of the forearm. The impetus
of his eighty-pound body sent the man clean off his balance. And
together the two crashed backward to the ground.
Lad was not of the bulldog breed which seeks and gains a hold and
then hangs on to it with locked jaws. A collie fights with brain
as much as with teeth. By the time he and Roodie struck the
earth, Lad tore free from the unloving embrace and whizzed about
to face the second of his foes.
Eitel had taken advantage of the moment's respite to seize with
his uninjured hand his slashed wrist. Then, on second thought, he
released the wounded wrist and bent over the baby; with a view to
picking him up and regaining the comparative safety of the car's
floor. But his well-devised maneuver was not carried out.
For, as he leaned over the bundle, extending his hands to pick it
up, Lad's teeth drove fiercely into the section of Eitel's plump
anatomy which chanced to be presented to him by the stooping down
of the kidnaper.
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