A mechanic, strong and muscular, rushed to his assistance, and between them they held the dog firmly muzzled till a policeman arrived, and drawing a revolver shot the frantic animal through the head.
With a hoarse cry the dog stretched himself out in the agonies of death.
“Your little boy has been saved from a terrible death,” said a bystander to Paul’s father.
The latter breathed a deep sigh of relief. He turned his eyes in the direction of Ben, who was holding up his coat and gazing at it with a rueful look.
“It is spoiled,” said Adelbert. “You can never wear it again.”
“And it is my only one,” rejoined Ben.
He felt a touch upon his arm, and turning, saw that it was the little boy’s father who had thus called his attention.
“My dear boy,” he said, in a tone of deep emotion, “how can I thank you for what you have done? By your bravery you have in all probability saved my son from a terrible death.”
“I am so glad,” was Ben’s reply. “When I saw his danger I couldn’t help trying to save him. Any one would have done it,” he added modestly.
“No one did it but you,” said the father significantly. “What is your name?”