A shout that causes hope to thrill in many hearts, to inspire a confidence that the innocent may be saved.
The young doctor from Chicago is seen bounding to meet the maddened brute, now so terribly close to the child.
None knows better than John Craig what the result of a bite may be.
He has seen more than one hydrophobia patient meet death in the most dreadful manner known to the profession.
Yet he faces this fate now, the man who was thought too cowardly to crawl out along that bleak rock and secure a white flower for a girl's whim.
He goes not because it will be a great thing to do, or on account of the admiration which success will bring him.

That mother's shriek of agony rings in his ears, and if he even knew that he was going to his death, yet would he still assume the risk.
It was on account of a mother--his own--he refused to risk his life before, and the same sacred affection inspires his action now, for he could never look into her dear eyes again, except in a shame-faced way, if he allowed this child to meet death while he stood an inactive spectator of the tragedy.
As he advances, John draws his right arm from his coat-sleeve.

It is not the act of thoughtlessness, but has been done with a motive.
When the coat is free, with a quick motion he whirls it around, so that it rolls about his left arm.
Those who see the act comprehend his purpose, and realize that he means to force the brute to seize him there.
All this has occurred in a very brief time.

Perhaps a quarter of a minute has elapsed since Lady Ruth turned to Colonel Lionel, and besought his aid.
John Craig has at least accomplished one purpose.

Just as the mad dog is about to snap at the child, the young medical student snatches the boy away, and throws him to the rear.