“He wants to complete the job by shutting the door,” explained Andy, who could grasp a situation like this much better than the stout scout, because his wits worked quicker.
All sounds ceased again as Rob pushed along the wall of the new building until he could reach out his hand. Then the door began to close, faster and faster until the yawning gap was entirely filled.
Hardly had this been done than there arose a deafening cheer. Everybody seemed to be wild with delight, and shook hands with one another in their excitement. Now that the terrible “mad dog” had been caged, plenty of weapons would be remembered; and it would be so easy, and safe, to shoot through the windows of the building.
“Let’s get out of this, fellows!” said Rob, when he managed to worm his way through the crush and join his mates.
Tubby frowned as though it was against his principles to run away when people were wanting to shake hands, and call one a hero; but not wanting to be left behind the others, Tubby had to go.
They had not reached a point far distant when the report of several firearms reached them. Rob shook his head and frowned.
“That’s about the silliest thing I ever ran up against,” he said. “The dog was no more mad than Tubby here is. Those boys pestered him, and got him scared. Then all that shouting and waving of hands and throwing of things at him finished the business. It was a foolish scare, and I guess nine out of ten mad dog hunts are in the same class.”
“Well, they’ve finished the poor thing now, I guess!” ventured Hiram.
“It sounds like it the way they’re cheering, just as if they’ve done something mighty heroic!” added Andy.
“The only thing worth a cheer,” remarked Tubby, emphatically, “was when our chum Rob walked right at the snarling beast, and took all sorts of chances of getting bit and clawed up. That needed nerve, let me tell you!”