"There are thieves in the house," she shouted at the top of her voice, "and the dog has found it out." She did not go near the dining-room door, but threw open the front one, crying, "Policeman! Policeman! help, help, thieves, murder!" Such a screaming as that old woman made! She was worse than I was.

I dashed by her, out through the hall door, and away down to the gate, where I heard some one running.

I gave a few loud yelps to call Jim, and leaped the gate as the man before me had done.
There was something savage in me that night.

I think it must have been the smell of Jenkins.

I felt as if I could tear him to pieces.