In the excitement of the moment, Farmer Bluff made a desperate effort to get to a sitting posture; but that was beyond him, and he earned nothing but pain for his exertion.
"He's run right away," said Maggie, appearing in the doorway with an agitated face.
"Oh! He'll come back right enough," returned her uncle, lifting his head to look at her. "The mischief is—mercy on any one he should meet. And I don't know the man, except old Dobson, who dare go after him."
"I dare," said Maggie bravely; "I'll go to the ditch and call."
"No, child," cried Farmer Bluff; but quick as lightning Maggie was gone. "Stop her!" roared he, as she sped downstairs and out at the house door. "He'll knock her down! He'll kill the child!"
"Not he!" said Hal. "Not Blazer! He's far too fond of Mag. She's not afraid of him; no more am I. I'll go too."
But the Squire stopped him.
"I'd hardly dare go myself," said Farmer Bluff. "Hark! There she's calling him!"
And the little girl's voice was heard ringing out clear and loud—"Blazer, Blazer; where have you rushed off to? You bad old doggie, you!"
The Squire had his head out of the casement, calling her to come in; but Blazer had heard her voice and come back with a rush, leaping the ditch and bounding up to lick her hand, then crouching at her feet, whilst Maggie stood firm as a rock, and fearlessly patted his broad head. Then he leapt the ditch again, and barked, and looked towards the child; then came back, and jumped around her; then back to the ditch, as if he wanted her to go with him.