"A mad dog, dear. The poor thing is killed now."
"And nobody hurt?"
"The men hoped not. One girl had a very narrow escape; but I did not hear particulars."
Annie shuddered. "How dreadful!" she said. "You didn't help to kill him, father? You didn't put yourself in any danger?"
"Not unnecessarily. The actual killing was done by the butcher's man. A happy thing that he was there. My dear, I have a little business to attend to in the town; but I shall not be gone long."
"Do ask if anybody is hurt, father."
"Yes, dear."
Mr. Wilmot gave her his usual smile, and entered the study, shutting the door. A different expression came over his face then. He lighted a light, and looked at his left wrist, just under the coat-sleeve.
Yes, he had felt the touch of a tooth there, in the instant's sharp scuffle, before he obtained command of the mad animal. It was hardly more than a short red scratch, just deep enough to have drawn blood. Nothing to look at; but Mr. Wilmot knew what it might portend!
He glanced at his watch. "The doctor will be in now. Better so; he will do it more thoroughly than I could myself."