although rather stiff, not much the worse for the rough treatment he
had received), started for a walk toward the house to which he had
directed Turk upon the previous evening. He was anxious to discover
whether his friend had been absent, as he believed that the dog might
have been waiting for admittance, and had been perhaps attacked by
some dogs in the neighborhood.

The master and Turk had walked for nearly a mile, and had just turned
the corner of a street, when, as they passed a butcher's shop, a large
brindled mastiff rushed from the shop-door and flew at Turk.

"Call your dog off!" shouted Mr. Prideaux to the butcher, who watched
the attack with impudent satisfaction. "Call him off, or my dog will
kill him!" continued Mr. Prideaux.

The usually docile Turk had rushed to meet his assailant with a fury
that was extraordinary. With a growl like that of a lion he quickly
seized his foe by the throat, and in a fierce struggle of only a few
seconds he threw the brindled dog upon his back. It was in vain that
Mr. Prideaux tried to call him off; he never for an instant relaxed
his hold, but with the strength of a wild beast of prey Turk shook the
head of the butcher's dog to the right and left. The butcher attempted
to interfere and lashed him with a huge whip. "Stand clear! fair play!
Don't you strike my dog!" shouted Mr. Prideaux. "Your dog was the
first to attack!" Mr. Prideaux seized Turk by his collar, while the
butcher was endeavoring to release his dog from the deadly grip. At
length Mr. Prideaux's voice and action appeared for a moment to create
a calm, and he held back his dog. Turk's flanks were heaving with
the intense exertion and excitement of the fight, and he strained
to escape from his master's hold to attack once more his enemy. At