Harry set his face over the hopper and cradled industriously.

He thought he was displaying proper firmness, but his hand trembled, his heart beat like a plunger, and he was the victim of an ignoble bashfulness.

Chris approached with some timidity; but Maori bounded up to the young man, making elephantine overtures of friendliness, which were resented by Harry's cattle-dog Cop, who walked round and round the mastiff in narrowing circles, bristling like a cat and snarling hoarsely.

Maori treated the challenge with a lordly indulgence.

Cop went further, he snapped and brought blood.