We all rushed to his rescue, for it looked as though he would be torn
in pieces, and when I saw a long cut in his tender skin I was frantic.
But finally the two black dogs were pulled off and Hal was dragged out
of the ditch and back to the house, holding back and growling all the
time, which showed plainly he was not satisfied with the way the
affair had ended. The drive that day I did not enjoy!
Hal was not torn so deeply as to have unsightly scars, for which I was
thankful. From that day on, however, he not only hated those dogs, but
disliked the man who cares for them, and seemed to consider him
responsible for their very existence. And it was wonderful that he
should recognize Cressy's step on the ground as he passed at the side
of our house. Several times when he would be stretched out on the
floor, to all appearances fast asleep, I have seen him open his eyes
wide and growl when the man and dogs were passing, although it was
perfectly impossible for him to have seen them.
One morning about ten days ago when I was on the second floor, I heard
an awful noise downstairs - whines, growls, and howls all so mingled
together one would have thought there were a dozen dogs in the house.
I ran down to see what could possibly be the matter, and found Hal at
a window in the dining room that looked out on the back yard, every
hair on his brindled back standing straight up and each white tooth
showing.
