"Get out and let him run after you!"
Billy opened the smoke-house door and ventured a few feet from it. Aleck did not see him, and he advanced a few feet farther. Then an idea occurred to him, and he did what he might have done sooner if he had not been afraid—made a dash toward Ring. The dog's collar was quickly unbuckled.
"Sick 'im, Ring!" shouted Billy; but Ring needed no encouragement. His only wish for the last two or three hours had been to get to the sheep.
A few moments later, Aleck, after a fierce but brief struggle, was lying on the ground bleating for mercy, while the dog held him by the throat. But for the boys, Ring would soon have finished him. They forced the dog to release his hold, not because they felt any kindness for Aleck, but because they were afraid their fathers would have to pay for him if he should be killed. As soon as the ram was released he sprang up, rushed round the house, out at the gate, and down the road as fast as his legs could carry him, and was never seen there again.
"Don't you think you ought to give back the knife and marbles and pencil?" asked Billy, after they had watched Aleck till he disappeared, "You didn't turn Ring loose like you were to."
"No, I won't," declared Dick. "I did my part. I rolled. I couldn't help where the barrel went to."
"Oh, all right," said Billy, in indifferent tones; but he looked disappointed.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Billy," said Dick, relenting a little as he followed Billy into the kitchen. "I'll keep the knife, and give you back the marbles and pencil. Isn't that fair!"
"Why, yes, that's fair enough, Dick," answered Billy, looking pleased. "And let's give Ring some fried chicken and a little piece of pie for his dinner. He helped us. If it hadn't been for him, no telling how long that old sheep would have kept us out."
"All right!" was the enthusiastic response; and they began to make hasty preparations for the long-delayed meal.