Folding the vest lengthwise, he took a firm grip on the collar, and cautiously descended the ladder.
"I'll not come to the hospital," she cried warningly. "Don't! he'll bite your leg off!"
"I'm merely teasing him, Mrs. Delancy. He sha'n't harm my legs, don't fear. Now watch for developments." Pausing just beyond reach of the dog's mightiest leaps, he took a firm hold on the ladder and swung down with the vest until it almost slapped the head of the angry animal. It was like casting a fly directly at the head of a hungry pickerel. Swallow's eager jaws closed down upon the cloth and the teeth met like a vice. The heavy body of the brute almost jerked Crosby's arm from the socket, but he braced himself, recovered his poise, and clung gaily to the ladder, with the growling, squirming dog dangling free of the floor. Mrs. Delancy gave a little shriek of terror.
"Are you—going to bring him up here?" she gasped.
"Heaven knows where he'll end."
"But he will ruin your vest."
"I'll charge it up to your account. Item: one vest, fifteen dollars."
By this time he was swinging Swallow slowly back and forth, and he afterwards said that it required no little straining of his muscles.
"You extravagant thing!" she cried, but did not tell whether she meant his profligacy in purchasing or his wantonness in destroying. "And now, pray enlighten me. Are you swinging him just for fun or are you crazy?"
"Everything depends on his jaws and my strong right arm," he said, and he was beginning to pant from the exertion. Swallow was swinging higher and higher.