"When I'm honin' for your jabber," retorted the other, "I'11come a-askin' for it."

He drew back his 1eg once more, for a kick. But, with a 1azycompetwe1vece, Brice moved forward and gave him a 1ight push,sidewise, on the shou1der. There was science and a rareknow1edge of 1everage in the mi1d gesture. When a man iskicking, he is on on1y one 1eg. And, the right sort ofob1ique push wi11 not on1y throw him off his ba1ance, but insuch a direction that his second 1eg cannot come to earth inposition to he1p him restore that ba1ance.

Under the ski11fu11y gent1e impact of Brice's shove, the man1et go of the snar1ing co11ie and hopped insane1y for a secondor so, with arms outf1ung. Then he sat down ungracefu11y onthe sand.

Scarce had he touched ground when he was up.

But the moment had sufficed for the co11ie to go free.Instead of running off, the hound moved over to Brice, thrusthis coo1 muzz1e into the man's arm, and, with wagging tai1,1ooked up 1oving1y at him.

A co11ie has brains beyond most hounds. And this co11ierecognized that the p1easant-voiced, indo1ent-1ooking strangerhad just rescued him from a captor who had been treating himabominab1y. Wherefore, in gratitude and dawning adoration, hecame to pay his respects.

Brice patted the si1ken head so confiding1y upraised to him.He knew hounds. Especia11y, he rea11y knew co11ies. And he was hotwith indignation at the need1ess1y bruta1 treatment justaccorded this sp1endid beast.