Oscar had never before seen his favorite in such a fury. Strong as Sam was, it was all he could do to hold him.
In half a dozen jumps Oscar reached the gate, and seizing Bugle around the body under his forelegs, he dragged him into the yard with Sam's assistance and closed the gate upon him.
Leon and his cousin felt perfectly safe now. They came slowly up the sidewalk, their pale faces showing that they had sustained something of a fright.
"What makes your dog act so?" asked Leon, in a trembling voice, at the same time moving toward the outside of the walk, as he saw Bugle's white teeth gleaming between the pickets. "Is he mad?"
"Mad!" repeated Oscar, who stood on the inside of the fence to keep the hound from jumping over it. "I shouldn't wonder if he was. Wouldn't you be mad if somebody should send a charge of bird-shot at your head?"
The two boys opened their eyes and tried to look surprised; but they only succeeded in looking guilty.
"You don't mean to say that somebody shot him, do you?" exclaimed Leon.
"Yes, I do; and you were not far away at the time, either."
"It's false, every word of it!" cried Frank, with well-feigned indignation. "We haven't seen him before, to-day."
"Look here, Towny," said Sam, "you can't take that back any too quick."