Any attempt to solve the riddle of the universe had to be postponed on account of Mac's suddenly being involved in a desperate fight, for while his mistress had been lost in meditation he had been exposed to the insults of an aggressive fox terrier. "Bandy-legged Sawney!" the terrier had murmured when he trotted fussily past with erect tail. Mac's ears had twitched under this reflection upon his nationality; but he had restrained himself. Presently the terrier had come trotting back, this time on three legs as if to insinuate that he was a better dog on three legs than a Dandie Dinmont on four. "Donkey's ears!" he had snarled. Even this Mac had endured in patience, for his splay paw was still reposing on his mistress' instep and he was proud of the pose, too proud to abandon it for a fox-terrier. But, when his mistress had of her own accord released him by withdrawing her toe from his protection, Mac had been able to stand no more. "Let him come back and say another word," he had growled to himself, turning round and round and scratching up the gravel in his irritation. The fox-terrier had trotted back more aggressive than ever and to emphasize his contempt of the Dandie Dinmont's short legs he had swaggered up and down in front of Mac on the tips of his paws, boastfully snarling. Mac rushed in, and the fight began. The nearest children climbed hastily over the railings to the safety of the grass: nurses screamed to their charges: a park-keeper looked out of the window of his little green room and made ready to effect an impressive arrival upon the scene when the fight was over. "Your dog began it," a weather-beaten woman said angrily to Mary. "I call all and sundry to witness that it was your dog who deliberately made an attack upon mine. Trusty! Trusty! Oh, my poor Trusty, he'll be killed. That other brute's got him down. He's being bitten to pieces, my poor old Trusty!" Mary was hitting both dogs with her whip-lead; but although she felt that she was using most unfeminine force, such force that the ribbons of her bonnet came untied and at any moment she expected to find her hair loose upon her shoulders, her blows had not the slightest effect upon the dogs. The owner of the fox-terrier was exciting herself more every moment, and Mary was afraid that presently she should find herself being rolled over and over among those fragments of shells, her preoccupation with which had been the cause of Mac's outburst. However, the Dandie Dinmont was certainly winning; and if the weather-beaten lady did attack her, perhaps he would have disposed of the fox-terrier in time to rescue his mistress. At that moment a slim young man rushed into the middle of the fray and, seizing both dogs by their tails, he held them apart until he had returned them growling to the arms of their owners.