"I wondered," the man was shaken. "Kaiserina never was vicious before."
"I don't think she will be again," Hanlon said soothingly. "Is the puppy all right?" he asked the small boy who came up with the little animal cradled in his arms.
"No," the boy sobbed, "Fluffy's dead."
"What's going on here?" an authoritative voice said, and two policemen pushed their way through the quickly-gathered crowd.
The dog's owner explained in swift words, and completely exonerated Hanlon. "This man tried to stop my dog; he was holding her back when I got here," and others corroborated his statement.
"You'd better have the dog killed," the policeman said, but Hanlon intervened.
"No, she was just striking back at the man who killed her puppy. She wasn't to blame, and I'm sure she isn't vicious."
The police were finally satisfied, and while they were calling the dead-wagon Hanlon walked slowly back to his hotel, his heart still sick but consoled a bit.
"He had it coming to him," his thought was bitter. "The rotten beast—kicking a little puppy like that!"