The door, however, was locked or bolted and although both boys pushed against it with their shoulders they were unable to move it. For the first time they were aware now how massive and strong the door was. "It isn't much like an ordinary kitchen door," whispered Fred as they abandoned their effort. "I should say not," responded John. "We can't get in and that's the only thing I can see plainly around here." "I wish George and Grant were here." "So do I, but if wishes were horses, beggars might ride. Is that dog creeping any nearer to us?" "I don't see that it is. I guess all there is left for us is to go back to the shore and wait." "We seem to be left on all sides, don't we?" "Pretty much, and I hope that dog thinks so too." Cautiously withdrawing from the kitchen door the boys slowly moved toward the corner of the house. Not far before them was a pile of wood and in case they should be attacked by the growling brute, they were hopeful that there they might find some weapon of defense. Suddenly both boys found themselves in need. With another growl the dog advanced upon the boys as soon as they had passed the corner. Leaping to the wood-pile John drew forth a stick three or four feet in length and only about two inches in diameter. Fred was less fortunate and unable to secure a weapon he darted toward the opposite side of the pile. Meanwhile John was compelled to face the dog. As the savage animal leaped forward John struck at it, but either his blow was too slow, or he did not see plainly in the dim light, for he failed to stop its progress. He had, however, almost succeeded in dodging the brute, which fastened its teeth in his trousers and steadily held John in his grip. "Hit him! Hit him!" said John excitedly. "He's got me and I can't get away!" In response to the appeal of his comrade Fred hastily took a stick from the wood-pile and advanced upon their common enemy. The dog, however, still clung to John in spite of the boy's desperate attempts to use his club. Lifting the stick which he carried Fred brought it down with all his force upon the back of the dog, which still was growling and clinging to its prisoner. There was a loud yelp of pain and relinquishing its hold the dog fled howling back to the house. Without waiting to discover the reception which awaited the animal, both Fred and John started swiftly across the field toward the shore. Frequently they glanced behind them, but it was manifest that the dog was not pursuing them. "He's got a backache," suggested Fred, "or else he's homesick. He doesn't want to leave the house." "I hope he doesn't," said John heartily. "I didn't know there was any dog around there." "Nor I. I don't know where they kept him." "If they will only keep him now that's all I want."