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Updated: June 22, 2025
After the few feet of the haul, Wefers went silent. Into his blankly affrighted face came a look of foolish bewilderment. The Master, remembering his wife's hint, and certain now of Lad's ability to complete the rescue, stood waiting on the string-piece. Once, for a second, Wefers' eyes met his; but they were averted in queer haste.
Wefers jerked back his protruding arm, with extreme quickness; barely avoiding a deep slash from the collie's shearing eye-teeth. And Lad, continued to "watch" the pistol. The dog was having a lovely time. Seldom had he been happier. All good collies respond in semi-psychic fashion to the moods of their masters.
"This dog here looks some like him," went on Wefers, sulkily. "But it ain't him. And I'll so report to the author'ties. I done what I come to do. The case is closed. And-and-if you folks ever want to sell your dog, why, well, I'll just go mortgage something and and buy him off'n you!" There were four of them; two gaudily-clad damsels and two men.
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