His soul was in
that walk and in that eye; it could be read--the soul of a bravo
of fortune, living on his wits and his velour, asking no favours
and granting no quarter. Intolerant, proud, sullen, yet watchful
and constantly planning--purely a militarist, believing in
slaughter as in a religion, and confident that art, science,
poetry and the good of the world were happily advanced
thereby--Gipsy had become, though technically not a wildcat,
undoubtedly the most untamed cat at large in the civilized world.
Such, in brief, was the terrifying creature that now elongated
its neck, and, over the top step of the porch, bent a calculating
scrutiny upon the wistful and slumberous Duke.
The scrutiny was searching but not prolonged. Gipsy muttered
contemptuously to himself, "Oh, sheol; I'm not afraid o' THAT!"
And he approached the fishbone, his padded feet making no noise
upon the boards. It was a desirable fishbone, large, with a
considerable portion of the fish's tail still attached to it.
It was about a foot from Duke's nose, and the little dog's dreams
began to be troubled by his olfactory nerve.
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