"Well, we'll ask, anyhow," agreed Betty, rather hopelessly. She hardly knew what to do next.
As they advanced toward the House the savage barking of a dog was heard, and as they reached the front gate the beast came rushing down the walk, while behind him lumbered a farmer, shouting:
"Here! Come back! Down, Nero! Don't mind him, ladies!" he added. "He won't hurt you!"
But the aspect, and the savage growls and barks, of the creature seemed to indicate differently, and the girls shrank back. Betty, reaching in her bag, drew out the nearly emptied olive bottle for a weapon.
"Don't hit him! Don't hit him!" cried the farmer. "That will only make him worse! Come back here, Nero!"
"Run, girls! Run!" begged Amy. "He'll tear us to pieces!" and she turned and fled.
CHAPTER XII
AT AUNT SALLIE'S
Probably that was the most unwise course poor Amy could have taken. Dogs, even the most savage, seldom come to a direct attack unless their prospective victim shows fear. Then, like a horse that takes advantage of a timid driver, the creature advances boldly to the attack.
It was so in this case. The other girls, not heeding Amy's frantic appeal, stood still, but she ran back toward the road, her short skirt giving her a chance to exercise her speed. The dog saw, and singling out her as the most favorable for his purposes, he leaped the fence in a great bound and rushed after the startled girl.