At the entrance to the village there was a bare fifty yards between
them. As he came up to the smithy, Blazer, the blacksmith's dog, the
terror of the village, began to bark; and Tinker's saving idea came to
him. He ran into the yard, and walked quietly up to Blazer, who barked
and strained at his chain with every advertisement of savage fury.
Tinker knew a good deal about dogs; he came quietly up to him, and
tried to pat his head. Blazer caught at the hand, and Tinker left it
passive in his teeth. Blazer's teeth bruised the skin, but did not
pierce: and suddenly he realised that he did not know what to do with
it.
With a sheepish air he let it go, and resumed his barking. Tinker
stepped right up to his kennel, and the barking Blazer danced about him
in an agony of indecision. Alloway rushed into the yard, and crying,
"I've got you, you young devil! Have I?" made for Tinker.
Blazer saw a happy way out of his awkward uncertainty, and bit
Alloway's leg.
Alloway jumped back with a roar; and, lashing at Blazer, hopped about.
The blacksmith ran out of the smithy, and took in the situation at a
glance.
"Take away your dog, Green! Take him away!" shouted Alloway. "I'm
going to warm the young gentleman's jacket! He's been worriting my
ram!"
Alloway was a good customer; but Tinker was a familiar friend, and the
astute blacksmith scratched his head at great length before he said
slowly, "If zo be as you've 'it Blaazer, you'll 'av ter tak 'im away
yoursel'.
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