"My father snatched up his revolver and rushed downstairs, and I followed
him. The kitchen was in confusion. Tables and chairs were overturned,
and on the floor lay a man gurgling for help. The dog was standing over
him, choking him.
"The pater held his revolver to the man's ear, while I, by superhuman
effort, dragged our preserver away, and chained him up to the sink, after
which I lit the gas.
"Then we perceived that the gentleman on the floor was a police
constable.
"'Good heavens!' exclaimed my father, dropping the revolver, 'however did
you come here?'
"''Ow did _I_ come 'ere?' retorted the man, sitting up and speaking in a
tone of bitter, but not unnatural, indignation. 'Why, in the course of
my dooty, that's 'ow _I_ come 'ere. I see a burglar getting in through
the window, so I just follows and slips in after 'im.'
"'Did you catch him?' asked my father.
"'Did I catch 'im!' almost shrieked the man. ''Ow could I catch 'im with
that blasted dog of yours 'olding me down by the throat, while 'e lights
'is pipe and walks out by the back door?'
"The dog was for sale the next day. The mater, who had grown to like
him, because he let the baby pull his tail, wanted us to keep him. The
mistake, she said, was not the animal's fault. Two men broke into the
house almost at the same time.
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