"Thunder and lightning," cried Doerr in a rage. "There is Bollmann's dog again.... He has got through the fence again.... But we shall see." ... And quickly setting down the geranium pot that he was examining, he ran to the dog kennel, caught up the hook of the chain and turned the big dog loose, who rushed furiously through the garden. But before he could reach the pear tree, "Bollmann's beast" had already given leg bail and was disappearing under the fence into the open, the big yellow dog pursuing him with great leaps. But the gap that had sufficed for the pug would not let him through, and he was forced to give up the chase. Doerr himself had no better luck, when he came up with a rake and exchanged glances with the dog. "Well, Sultan, we didn't catch him this time." And so Sultan trotted back to his kennel in a slow, puzzled way, as if he had been blamed for something. But Doerr himself gazed after the pug who was running over the ploughed ground and said to himself presently: "The Devil take me, if I don't get me an air gun at Mehle's or somewhere. And then I'll get the beast out of the way so silently that neither cock nor hen will make a sound. Not even mine." The cock, however, seemed to have for the present no use for the quiet attributed to him by Doerr, but continued to use his voice just as strenuously as before. And meanwhile he puffed out his silver white throat as proudly as if he wanted to show the hens that his flying up into the pear tree was a well-considered "coup" or else a mere whim. But Doerr said: "Oh Lord, what a cock. He thinks he is something wonderful. And yet his courage doesn't amount to much." And so saying he went back to his flower stand. CHAPTER III The whole incident had also been observed by Frau Doerr, who was cutting asparagus, but she paid very; little attention, because such things happened nearly every other day. So she kept on with her work, and only gave up the search, when even the sharpest scrutiny of the beds failed to reveal any more white heads. Only then did she hang the basket on her arm, putting the knife in it, and driving a couple of strayed chickens before her, while she walked slowly along the middle path of the garden and then into the yard and up to the flower stand, where Doerr had resumed his work for the market. "Well, Susy," he greeted his better half, "here you are. Did you see? Bollmann's dog was here again. Listen, he had better say his prayers and then I will try him out over the fire; there must be a little fat on him and Sultan can have the scraps.... And listen, Susy, dog's fat...." And he appeared to become absorbed in a favorite method of treating gout which he had been considering for some time. But at this moment he caught sight of the asparagus basket on his wife's arm, and interrupted himself. "Come, show it to me," he said. "Did you have good luck?"