Then, as the beach comber's limbs began to twitch and his eyelids to quiver, Brice turned away.
"Come along, puppy," he bade the wildly excited collie.

"He isn't dead.

Another couple of seconds and his neck or his back must have gone.

I'm glad he fainted first.

A killing isn't a nice thing to remember on wakeful nights, the killing of even a cur like that.