“You’re a plucky kid, all right,” he replied, touched more than he would have admitted. “I won’t hurt the dog if you do as I tell you.” He looked for a cord or rope, but found none, and pulled from his pocket a red handkerchief. “Tie this around his neck; let one end hang down.”
The child obeyed, but her fingers trembled; and Bouncer whined and licked her hand.
“Pull it tighter.”
That was not difficult, for the soft silk slipped into a knot as strong as if tied in hemp.
“Bring him here.” The man stepped out and laid his hand on a sapling that grew beside the Lodge. May Nell followed with the dog.
“Now hold his head between your hands and tell him not to touch me.”
The child was “boiling inside,” yet she believed Bouncer’s life depended on her obedience. And anyway, Billy would come in a minute. Oh, why wasn’t he there now!
The big hands in spite of the shiny gloves tied the dog fast and very close to the tree. “Now give me that dinky ribbon from your hair,” he commanded, and tied the growling dog’s forefeet together. And May Nell knew the man’s voice was gruffer when Bouncer was helpless. He gazed at her reproachfully from eyes that moved though his head could not. She would never forget those sad eyes that followed her when she was ordered away.
She glanced down the road, and swiftly around. Not a soul in sight. Obedience was inevitable.
He held out his hand, but the little girl put hers behind her. “I’ll come by myself,” she said with dignity. Whatever happened that dreadful man should not touch her.