Jenkins fell on his face in the earth. Then he got up,
and with a look of deadly hatred on his face, pounced upon me. If help
had not come, I think he would have dashed out my brains against the
wall, as he dashed out my poor little brothers' against the horse's
stall. But just then there was a running sound. Two men came down the
street and sprang upon the wall, just where Jim was leaping up and down
and barking in distress.
I saw at once by their uniform and the clubs in their hands, that they
were policemen. In one short instant they had hold of Jenkins. He gave
up then, but he stood snarling at me like an ugly dog. "If it hadn't
been for that cur, I'd never a been caught. Why----," and he staggered
back and uttered a bad word, "it's me own dog."
"More shame to you," said one of the policemen, sternly; "what have you
been up to at this time of night, to have your own dog and a quiet
minister's spaniel dog a chasing you through the street?"
Jenkins began to swear and would not tell them anything. There was a
house in the garden, and just at this minute some one opened a window
and called out: "Hallo, there, what are you doing?"
"We're catching a thief, sir," said one of the policemen, "leastwise I
think that's what he's been up to.
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