“Constable Todd, I want you should arrest Lincoln Ferris! I charge him with assaultin’ me, just now, in the presence of ev’ry one here an’ interferin’ with me in the pursoot of my dooty, an’ for takin’ away from me, with a drawn knife, an unlicensed dog I had caught as the law orders I should catch such dogs on the streets of this borough. Take him along unless you want to lose your shield for neglect of dooty. If I’ve got to stand trial, there’s a couple of men who’ll stand it too.”
“Gee!” groaned Old Man Chatham, his legal lore revealing to him the mess wherein Shunk could so easily involve Ferris and himself. “You were dead right, Link. One dog can cause more mixups in a c’munity than—”
“Than Eben Shunk?” asked Ferris. “No, you’re wrong, sir. Shunk can stir up more bother than a poundful of dogs. Listen here, Shunk,” he went on. “You claim that Olive and I both interfered with you in the pursuit of your duty. How did we?”
“By tryin’ to take away from me a dog that the law c’mpelled me to catch, of course,” snapped Eben, adding: “An’ I charge you with ’sault and batt’ry too. You hit me in the stummick an’ knocked me clean off’n the sidewalk.”
“I was at work over my dog with one hand and I was holding back Mr. Chatham with the other,” denied Link. “How could I have hit you? Did any one here see me strike this man?” he challenged the crowd.
“Aw, you didn’t hit him!” answered one of the boys who had picked up stones. “He slipped on the curb. I saw him do it. Nobody hit him.”
“That’s right,” agreed the constable. “I was here. And I didn’t witness any assault.”
"I’m thinkin’ you’ll have trouble provin’ that assault charge, Shunkie," grinned Link. “Now for the other one. Judge,” he said, addressing his worried father-in-law, “you are an authority on legal things. I grant it’s a misdemeanour—or a crime—or something—to interfere with a dog catcher on a street of his own bailiwick when he’s pullin’ along an unlicensed dog. But what would the law be if Shunk had grabbed a duly licensed dog—a dog that was wearin’ his license tag on his collar, like the law directs—a dog that was walkin’ peacefully along the street, guardin’ a child whose fam’ly it belonged to? Would that child or would the dog’s owner be committin’ any punishable fault for tryin’ to keep the dog catcher from stealin’ their pet? Would they? And would the dog catcher have any right to lay hands on such a dog? Would he have any case against such child or man? Hey?”
“Why, no! Of course not!” fumed Old Man Chatham. “He’d have no legal right to touch such a dog. They’d have a right to protect the beast from him. But that’s all beside the point. The point is—”
“The point is,” intervened Link, calling Chum to him by a snap of the fingers—“the point is that I was bothered by this man’s threats to grab my dog and torture him. So I walked into town yesterday and paid my dollar license fee to the borough clerk and took out a license for Chum. I paid ten cents extra for a license tag and I fastened it on Chum’s collar, as the law directs. See?”