Also, that the lanky and red-bearded visitor was directly responsible for their stress of feeling.

He had been eyeing alternately the Master and Wefers; tensely awaiting some overt act or some word of permission which should warrant him in launching himself on the intruder.
And now, it seemed, the whole thing was a game;--a game wherein he himself had been invited to play a merry and spectacular part.
Joyously, he flew after the hurtling lump of steel and rubber.
The Master, facing the constable, did not see his pet's performance.

He took up the thread of speech where Wefers dropped it.
"I don't know what the law does or doesn't empower you to do, in such cases," he said, trying to force his way back to the earlier semblance of calm.

"But I doubt if it permits you to trespass on my land, without a warrant or a court order of some sort; or to shoot a dog of mine.
And, until I find out the law in the matter, you'll get off this place and keep off of it.

As for the dog, I'll be legally responsible for him; and I'll guarantee he'll do no damage.