knew his business. He let go, to avoid a savage kick, and made a spring for the rascal's throat. This was too much for the footpad. He quickly; thrust the young millionaire from him and staggered away, breaking into a run a moment later, and calling to his companion:
"Come on! I've had plenty!"
The other was glad enough to follow. Dick stumbled and fell, when the men released their hold, but recovered his balance after an effort. Grit, snarling and growling, started down the dark road after the men, splashing through muddy, puddles.
"Here, Grit! Come back!" yelled Dick. He did not want his pet shot, and he had no doubt but that the desperate characters would use their weapons on the valuable animal.
Breathing hard from his struggle the lad darted forward. The cool rain soon revived him sufficiently, so that his strength, which had been well-nigh spent in the contest, came back to him, and he was racing with all his speed through the storm and darkness. He wanted to see who the men were—to fathom the reason for their attack on him.
"Here, Grit! Grit!" he called. "Come back!"
The dog barked a protest, for he wanted to finish the work he had begun.
"Come back, Grit!" cried Dick again, and the dog knew there was disobeying that voice. With a menacing growl he turned and leaped joyously
