A strange confusion outside caused him to raise his head and look through the window near him.

“Oh, Mr. Hobbs,” he said, “there’s a mad dog!”

The teacher started up, and saw the yellow cur running about the grounds, snapping at the children, while a couple of boys had already raised the fearful cry, and there was a scattering in all directions.  Although without any weapon, the instructor was on the point of hurrying out to the help of the children, when he observed the canine coming toward the outer door.  He tried to close it in his face, but the brute was too quick and was inside before he could be stopped.  He made for the second door, leading into the session-room, but, in this instance, the teacher slammed it shut just in time.

Instead of going out the dog slunk into the entry and crawled under a bench, so nearly behind the outer door that he was invisible to any one beyond.

“Mr. Hobbs,” said Tod Clymer a moment later, “will you please help me out of the window?”

“I think you are safer here,” replied the teacher, “for he cannot reach you, but you will not be able to get away from him outside.”

“I want to leave, please, very much.”

It was a strange request, and the teacher waited some minutes before complying, but the heart of the lame boy was so set upon it, that he finally assisted him to the window furthest from where the dog was crouching, gently lifted him down to the ground, and then passed his crutches to him.

“Now, Tod,” said he kindly, “don’t tarry a moment, for there’s no saying how soon he will be outside again.  The other children are away, but you cannot run like them.”

“Thank you,” replied Tod, who never forgot to be courteous, as he carefully adjusted the collars of his crutches under his shoulders.

Mr. Hobbs motioned from the window for several of the boys to keep off.  With a natural curiosity, they were stealing closer to the building, in the hope of finding out what the rabid dog was doing.

The teacher, seeing his gestures were understood, turned back, when to his surprise, he noticed the top of Tom Clymer’s straw hat, as it slowly rose and sank, moving along the front of the building toward the front door.

Instead of hurrying off, as he should have done, the lad was making his way toward the very spot where the dreadful animal was crouching.

“Why, Tod, what are you doing?” called Mr. Hobbs through the open window; “you will surely be bitten.”

Instead of replying or heeding the words, the lad turned his pale face toward his friend and shook his head, as a warning for him to make no noise.  Then he resumed his advance to the open outer door, doing so with great care and stealth, as if afraid of being heard by the brute.

The entrance to the old Woodvale school building was reached by two steps, consisting of the same number of broad high stones worn smooth by the feet of the hundreds of children that had trod them times without number.  To make his way into the entry where the pupils hung their hats and bonnets on the double rows of pegs, Tod had to move slowly and carefully use his crutches.  Being tipped with iron he could not set them down on the smooth stones without causing noise.