A FEW VOLCANIC DOG-BISCUIT
"‘Hardly,' cried Tib, who had overheard him. 'But I've fed that pup about four sticks of your dynamite. I fed it in little pieces, covered with toothsome oil, and he bolted it bit by bit, and it never touched even the sides of his gullet in going down!'
"‘Fed him dynamite!' I repeated, dully.
"‘Sure! And now I'm going to feed some to a black brute with a shaggy white head. Then to scare them off, for the good Lord only knows what will happen if they get to romping about our back door! Remember the two, white flanks and white head!' And he was back on the run to take up again his job of chef to the canines.
"I could only fall against a table in a stupor. Danby swallowed convulsively, and then muttered, 'Rum cove!'
"Soon a chorus of yelps announced that Tib was feeding out some more tidbits. Imagine the situation if you can, sir. Fixing up four-legged mines, each one a thousand-fold more dangerous than the hound of the Baskervilles! And what if one of the loaded pups should jump against a post or a stone!
"‘Be ready!' warned Tib. 'Number two is loaded. I'm going to try to scare them away with my revolver. One little fellow got a nibble I'd not planned on, and I don't know which one it is. So I'll shoot over their heads. It won't do to explode a bowwow here, as you well know.'
279
