Another in our series of new transcriptions of contemporary articles on the Leo Frank case.
Atlanta Georgian
August 4th, 1913
Deputy Sheriff W. W. (“Boots”) Rogers, witness for the State in the Frank trial, is taking the Pasteur treatment at the State Capitol Monday after being bitten half a dozen times on the right ankle by a rabid dog that pulled him from his motorcycle at Henderson’s crossing, on Capitol avenue, Sunday night about 11 o’clock.
After a battle of more than fifteen minutes Rogers finally drove the dog away, and though his right leg was badly torn and lacerated, rode the two miles from the crossing to Grady Hospital. When he arrived at the hospital his leg had begun to turn black and was very painful.
Treated at Grady Hospital.
The Grady Hospital surgeons cauterized the wounds and gave him temporary relief. This morning the leg which the dog had gnawed was still swollen and painful, and Rogers decided to take the Pasteur treatment.
The dog was a big shepherd and attacked Rogers just as the officer was crossing the railroad tracks.
“I noticed the dog running along the side of the road several minutes before he bit me,” said Rogers Monday morning, “but I had not idea he was mad. As I passed under the arc light at the crossing I heard a growl right behind me, and before I could turn I felt the fangs of the dog sinking into my right ankle.
Pulled From Motorcycle.
“I tried to kick him off and tried to get my revolver from its holster. My coat was buttoned and before I could reach my gun the dog had pulled me from my motorcycle. As I fell to the ground the dog let go of my leg and leaped at my throat, and I struck him in the muzzle with my fist just in time to save myself.
“Before I could get up the dog had grabbed my leg again, and we rolled in the dirt for several moments, the dog trying to get at my throat. At length I regained my feet, with the dog hanging on to my leg and biting and gnawing. The froth streamed from his mouth and ran down my leg. I grabbed the brute by the throat with my hands, but could not shake him loose.
Too Weak to Kill Animal.
“Then I began kicking at him with my other foot, all the time trying to get my gun. The revolver had caught on my coat and I could not draw it. After about fifteen minutes of the hardest work I ever did in my life I managed to kick the dog loose from my leg, and he ran. I was so weak after the fight that I couldn’t draw my gun and failed to get a shot at the brute.”
Rogers was forced to lie in the road several minutes before he had strength enough to drag himself to his motorcycle. He finally reached his machine and started the motor, and then with blood streaming from his wounds rode to Grady Hospital. He was barely able to drag himself into the office when he got there.
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