Short Stories
ght against it higher up. Leclere kicked out with one foot, but the
rope bit into his neck and checked so abruptly as nearly to over-
balance him.
"Hi, ya! Chook! Mush-on!" he screamed.
Batard retreated, for twenty feet or so, with a fiendish levity
in his bearing that Leclere could not mistake. He remembered
the dog often breaking the scum of ice on the water hole by lift-
ing up and throwing his weight upon it; and remembering, he
understood what he now had in mind. Batard faced about and
paused. He showed his white teeth in a grin, which Leclere an-
swered; and then hurled his body through the air, in full charge,
straight for the box.
Fifteen minutes later, Slackwater Charley and Webster Shaw
returning, caught a glimpse of a ghostly pendulum swinging
back and forth in the dim light. As they hurriedly drew in closer,
they made out the man's inert body, and a live thing that clung
to it, and shook and worried, and gave to it the swaying motion.
"Hi, ya! Chook! you Spawn of Hell!" yelled Webster Shaw.
But Batard glared at him, and snarled threateningly, without
loosing his jaws.
Slackwater Charley got out his revolver, but his hand was
shaking, as with a chill, and he fumbled.
"Here you take it," he said, passing the weapon over.
Webster Shaw laughed shortly, drew a sight between the
gleaming eyes, and pressed the trigger. Batard's body twitched
with the shock, threshed the ground spasmodically for a mo-
ment, and went suddenly limp. But his teeth still held fast
locked.
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