And then, just as they were sure that all was safe, the dog leapt from the bushes. Holmes immediately noticed that its jowls were flecked with foam, but with startling rapidity the hound was upon them, snarling and whipping its head wildly from side to side.

"Methinks it's time to begone, Watson" Holmes said with less than his usual calm tone, and they ran across the moors, fending off the rabid cur with every step.

The dog chased them, got tired, and collapsed on the peet to have a rather peaceful nap.