But, though he could not escape, he could postpone; and his quick mind leaped to the fact that the more done Alloway was, the less vigorously would he ply his whip; besides, there was a chance that he might suddenly collapse.
At the entrance to the village there was a bare fifty yards between them.

As he came up to the smithy, Blazer, the blacksmith's dog, the terror of the village, began to bark; and Tinker's saving idea came to him.

He ran into the yard, and walked quietly up to Blazer, who barked and strained at his chain with every advertisement of savage fury.
Tinker knew a good deal about dogs; he came quietly up to him, and tried to pat his head.

Blazer caught at the hand, and Tinker left it passive in his teeth.

Blazer's teeth bruised the skin, but did not pierce: and suddenly he realised that he did not know what to do with it.
With a sheepish air he let it go, and resumed his barking.