Part 19 (1/2)
Standing in front of him, looking up at the rider, was Pete, one of Crowhead's missing cowboys! The mounted man was giving him a tongue-las.h.i.+ng.
”You ran away from Crowhead of your own free will,” the rider thundered. ”But you're not going back of your own free will. n.o.body that works for Charlie Morgan ever double-crosses him and gets away with it!”
”Arrow Charlie!” Joe whispered to Pye.
”I won't tell nuthin',” Pete pleaded. ”I only 188 want to git back to cowpunchin'. I warn't made to work in no factory!”
”You know our bargain,” Morgan shouted. ”I'll give you one more chance to change your mind.”
”Listen, Charlie,” Pete said, holding his hands out pleadingly, ”what511 happen to me if the sheriff catches up with us!”
”Don't worry about sheriffs, or city d.i.c.ks either,” Charlie sneered. ”They're a bunch of fools. Fen-ton Hardy tried to find out about my racket.” The crook guffawed loudly. ”One of his sons and that fat guy are my prisoners right now!”
Pete leaned against a tree. ”Yo're takin' an awful chance, Charlie,” he said. ”Frank an'
Joe's father-”
”That gumshoe artist?” Charlie cried out. ”Fen-ton Hardy is on his way to Crowhead, but he'll never get there. My pilot will make him a prisoner, too.”
Morgan looked down at Pete contemptuously.
”Well, have you made up your mind?”
”Sh.o.r.e,” Pete replied. ”I'm goin' back to Crow-head. Yo' promised not to shoot me.”
”Yeah, I did, you sneaking coyote,” Morgan spat. ”But try to get back to Crowhead. My dogs will take care of that.”
”Yore dogs!” Pete exclaimed.
189 ”Yeah. I keep 'em chained, but when they get loose, they go wild!”
Charlie jerked his reins, sending the bit deep into the sorrel's tongue. The animal reared up and wheeled, then galloped off into the woods.
When the hoof beats of Morgan's horse faded away, Joe and Pye rushed up to Pete.
The cowboy's jaw dropped in disbelief.
”Pye!” he cried out. ”How'd you git here?”
”We'll tell you later,” Joe put in, leading Pete to where their horses were hidden. ”Quick!
Jump up in back of me.”
The cowboy did as he was told. Then Pye and Joe galloped off in the direction of Crowhead. As the three neared one boundary line of the ranch, there came a sudden howling.
”What's that?” Joe cried out.
Pete supplied the answer, terror in his eyes. ”Charlie's dogs!”
”Wild dog now!” Pye shouted. ”Bad! Kill us!”
”They're gaining!” Joe cried.
The howls of the dogs grew louder. Turning in his saddle, Joe could see the leader of the pack, his fangs bared, bounding toward them.
”We can't outrace those man-killers!” Pete moaned.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Grim Story.
the Indian's face suddenly lighted up.
”Pye fool 'em,” he said.
Just how to fool a savage pack of wild dogs already snapping at the heels of the ponies was more than Joe could figure. The fearful howls were deafening.
Like lightning Pye pulled a knife from his belt. He grasped the dead lamb and severed one hind leg. Joe now realized the strategy of the wily Indian.
Pye flung the leg to the snapping dogs. The pack skidded to an abrupt halt, taking time to tear the meat to pieces. Then they renewed their savage pursuit.
Again and again Pye cut pieces from the carca.s.s to delay the dogs. Their yelping grew farther away as the horses gained. When Pye had but one piece left, he shouted to Joe: ”Wait for Pye at fence.”
Swerving Cherry, the Indian galloped off at a 190.
191 tangent, heading for higher ground. The dogs tore after him.
From the distance, Joe and Pete watched spellbound. Pye guided his pony up a steep b.u.t.te, as the dogs gained ground. The way was stony and Cherry slipped once on the rocky slope, but Pye urged the animal on.
With her neck straining under the terrific ordeal, Cherry finally reached the top of the bluff. Pye galloped to the far side of it, then tossed the last piece of lamb to the very edge of the cliff.
Meanwhile, the dogs had scrambled to the top of the b.u.t.te. Their jaws flecked with froth, the charging beasts bounded pell-mell toward the meat.
Too late to check their momentum, half of them tumbled into the abyss below. Their broken bodies crashed onto jagged rocks, ending their bloodthirsty pursuit. The other half seized the piece of lamb. A brutal scrimmage followed, with the largest dog finally shaking the fragment of meat from the rest of the pack and loping off. But his victory was short-lived.
The infuriated pack set upon him, then upon one another.
”What a fight!” Joe exclaimed.
”Only three left now,” Pete said. ”Guess that ends it.”
The survivors limped down the slope and stole off into the forest, licking their wounds.
192 Pye rode into sight a few minutes later.
”You saved our lives!” Joe cried.