Part 30 (2/2)

”Lad!” called the Mistress, softly.

At the word the dog paused midway to the embarra.s.sed Maclay's desk and obediently turned back. The constable was drawing up a chair at the deal table for the Mistress. Lad curled down beside her, resting one snowy little forepaw protectingly on her slippered foot. And the hearing began.

Romaine repeated his account of the collie's alleged depredations, starting with Lad's first view of the sheep. Schwartz methodically retold his own story of twice witnessing the killing of sheep by the dog.

The Master did not interrupt either narrative, though, on later questioning he forced the sulkily truthful Romaine to admit he had not actually seen Lad chase the sheep-flock that morning on Mount Pisgah, but had merely seen the sheep running, and the dog standing at the hill-foot looking upward at their scattering flight. Both the Mistress and the Master swore that the dog on that occasion, had made no move to pursue or otherwise hara.s.s the sheep.

Thus did Lad win one point in the case. But, in view of the after-crimes wherewith he was charged, the point was of decidedly trivial value. Even if he had not attacked the flock on his first view of them he was accused of killing no less than eight of their number on two later encounters. And Schwartz was an eye-witness to this--Schwartz, whose testimony was as clear and as simple as daylight.

With a glance of apology at the Mistress, Judge Maclay ordered the sheep-carca.s.ses taken from their burlap cerements and laid on the table for court-inspection.

While he and Schwartz arranged the grisly exhibits for the judge's view, t.i.tus Romaine expatiated loudly on the value of the murdered sheep and on the brutally useless wastage in their slaying. The Master said nothing, but he bent over each of the sheep, carefully studying the throat-wounds. At last he straightened himself up from his task and broke in on Romaine's Antony-like funeral-oration by saying quietly:

”Your honor, these sheep's throats were not cut by a dog. Neither by Lad nor by any 'killer.' Look for yourself. I've seen dog-killed sheep. The wounds were not at all like these.”

”Not killed by a dog, hey?” loudly scoffed Romaine. ”I s'pose they was chewed by lightnin', then? Or, maybe they was bit by a skeeter? Huh!”

”They were not bitten at all,” countered the Master. ”Still less, were they chewed. Look! Those gashes are ragged enough, but they are as straight as if they were made by a machine. If ever you have seen a dog worry a piece of meat----”

”Rubbis.h.!.+” grunted t.i.tus. ”You talk like a fool! The sheeps' throats is torn. Schwartz seen your cur tear 'em. That's all there is to it.

Whether he tore 'em straight or whether he tore 'em crooked don't count in Law. He _tore_ 'em. An' I got a reli'ble witness to prove it.”

”Your Honor,” said the Master, suddenly. ”May I interrogate the witness?”

Maclay nodded. The Master turned to Schwartz, who faced him in stolid composure.

”Schwartz,” began the Master, ”you say it was light enough for you to recognize the sheep-killing dog both mornings in Romaine's barnyard.

How near to him did you get?”

Schwartz pondered for a second, then made careful answer:

”First time, I ran into the barnyard from the house side and your dog cut and run out of it from the far side when he saw me making for him.

That time, I don't think I got within thirty feet of him. But I was near enough to see him plain, and I'd seen him often enough before on the road or in your car; so I knew him all right. The next time--this morning, Judge--I was within five feet of him, or even nearer. For I was near enough to hit him with the stick I'd just picked up and to land a kick on his ribs as he started away. I saw him then as plain as I see you. And nearer than I am to you. And the light was 'most good enough to read by, too.”

”Yes?” queried the Master. ”If I remember rightly you told Judge Maclay that you were on watch last night in the cowshed, just alongside the barnyard where the sheep were; and you fell asleep; and woke just in time to see a dog----”

”To see your dog----” corrected Schwartz.

”To see a dog growling over a squirming and bleating sheep he had pulled down. How far away from you was he when you awoke?”

”Just outside the cowshed door. Not six feet from me. I ups with the stick I had with me and ran out at him and----”

”Were he and the sheep making much noise?”

”Between 'em they was making enough racket to wake a dead man,”

<script>