But suddenly there was a diversion. Alexander, Marcus Schouler's Irish
setter, whom his master had long since allowed the liberty of running
untrammelled about the neighborhood, turned the corner briskly and came
trotting along the sidewalk where Miss Baker stood. At the same moment
the Scotch collie who had at one time belonged to the branch post-office
issued from the side door of a house not fifty feet away. In an instant
the two enemies had recognized each other. They halted abruptly, their
fore feet planted rigidly. Trina uttered a little cry.
"Oh, look out, Miss Baker. Those two dogs hate each other just like
humans. You best look out. They'll fight sure." Miss Baker sought
safety in a nearby vestibule, whence she peered forth at the scene, very
interested and curious. Maria Macapa's head thrust itself from one of
the top-story windows of the flat, with a shrill cry. Even McTeague's
huge form appeared above the half curtains of the "Parlor" windows,
while over his shoulder could be seen the face of the "patient," a
napkin tucked in his collar, the rubber dam depending from his mouth.
All the flat knew of the feud between the dogs, but never before had the
pair been brought face to face.
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