At dawn, a man in torn and muddy clothes, called at the office of a doctor three miles away to be treated for a half-dozen dog-bites received, he said, from a pack of stray curs he had met on the turnpike. By the time his wounds were dressed, the sheriff and two deputies had arrived to take him in charge. In his pockets were a revolver, with two cartridges fired, and the mate of the rubber glove he had left on The Place's lawn. "You--you wouldn't let Wolfie go to any show and win a cup for himself," half-sobbed the Boy, as the Master worked over the injured dog's wound, "but he's saved you from losing all the cups the other dogs ever won!" Three days later the Master came home from a trip to the city. He went directly to the Boy's room. There on a rug lounged the convalescent Wolf, the Boy sitting beside him, stroking the dog's bandaged head. "Wolf," said the Master, solemnly, "I've been talking about you to some people I know. And we all agree----" "Agree _what?_" asked the Boy, looking up in mild curiosity. The Master cleared his throat and continued: "We agree that the trophy-shelf in my study hasn't enough cups on it. So I've decided to add still another to the collection. Want to see it, son?" From behind his back the Master produced a gleaming silver cup--one of the largest and most ornate the Boy had ever seen--larger even than Bruce's "Best Dog" cup. The Boy took it from his father's outstretched hand. "Who won this?" he asked. "And what for? Didn't we get all the cups that were coming to us at the shows. Is it----" The Boy's voice trailed away into a gurgle of bewildered rapture. He had caught sight of the lettering on the big cup. And now, his arm around Wolf, he read the inscription aloud, stammering with delight as he blurted out the words: "HERO CUP. WON BY WOLF, AGAINST ALL COMERS." CHAPTER XII IN THE DAY OF BATTLE Now, this is the true tale of Lad's last great adventure. For more years than he could remember, Lad had been king. He had ruled at The Place, from boundary-fence to boundary-fence, from highway to Lake. He had had, as subjects, many a thoroughbred collie; and many a lesser animal and bird among the Little Folk of The Place. His rule of them all had been lofty and beneficent. The other dogs at The Place recognized Lad's rulership--recognized it without demur. It would no more have occurred to any of them, for example, to pass in or out through a doorway ahead of Lad than it would occur to a courtier to shoulder his way into the throne-room ahead of his sovereign. Nor would one of them intrude on the "cave" under the living-room piano which for more than a decade had been Lad's favorite resting-place. Great was Lad. And now he was old--very old.