swallered the dog's stumpy tail, and Bob was dragging hair out of the enemy like an Injun dressing hides. 

 "A bulldog is like an Irishman; he's brave because he don't know any better, and you can't get any braver than that, but there's a limit, even to lunk-headedness. It bored through that dog's thick skull that he had butted into a little bit the darndest hardest streak of petrified luck that anything on legs could meet with. 

 "'By-by,' says he to himself.  'Out doors will do for me!'  And here he come! Neither the visitor nor me was expecting him. He blocked the feet out from under us and sat his master on top. We got up in time to see a winged bulldog, with a tail ten foot long, bounding merrily over the turf, searching his soul for sounds to tell how scart he was, whilst a desperate bob-cat, spitting fire and brimstone, threw dirt fifty foot in the air trying to lay claws on him." 

 

 [Illustration: Searching soul for sounds to tell how scart he was] 

 "As they disappeared over the first rise I rolls me a cigarette and lights it slowly. 

 "'Just by way of curiosity,' says I; 'how much will you take for your dog?' 

 "'My Heavens!' says he, recovering the power of speech.  'What kind of animal was that?' 

 "'Come in,' says I, 'and take a drink—you need it.' 

 "So we gathered up the ruins and tidied things some, while the new man sipped his whiskey. 

 "'My!' says he, of a sudden.  'I must go after my poor dog.' 

 "I sort of warmed to him at that.  'Dog's all right,' says I.  'He'll shake 'em loose and be home in no time. Now you tell me about them sheep.' 

 "'Sheep?' says he, putting his hand to his head.  'What was it about sheep?' 

 "'Hello in the house!' sings out Billy.  'The children's comin' home!' 

 "We tumbled out. Sure enough, the warriors was returning. First come the Judge, tougher than rawhide, half walking and half flying, his wings spread out, 'cree-ing' to himself about bulldogs and their ways; next come Bobby, still sputtering and 

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