galloped to where Faithful Fido sat and sang his siren song.
"Sure enough, the hook was through a bit of the scruff of poor Fido's neck.
"‘If I were that dog, I'd bite you,' said the Collector, 'even if it made me sick to do it.'
"I don't really suppose that Fido understood English. Not properly. But you'd have thought he did, if you'd seen Fido take the Collector's tip! Directly the Traveller put out his hand to pat the faithful hound, it began to feed. . . ."
"It bit him?" asked the Vice. "Good dog!"
"It did so. The kind M.P. wasn't fishing, but he had a bite. 'Twas no mere nibble either.
"‘Well—are you going to remove that hook, Sir,' asked the Collector, 'or must I whistle for my mounted-police orderlies and have you arrested at once?'
"The poor Limb almost wept. You see he went through life being a Kind Gentleman to everybody (except over-worked officials, soldiers, and all people of the useful classes), and here he was caught in an act of horrible brutality, and going to be prosecuted.
