At his cry the bear leaped out of the cloud of dust, and shot across the
threshold like black lightning. In his onslaught upon Greaser he had broken
his halter. Herky-Jerky stood directly in his path. I caught only a
glimpse, but it served to show that Herky was badly scared. The cub dove at
Herky, under him, straight between his legs like a greased pig, and,
spilling him all over the trail, sped on out of sight. Herky raised
himself, and then he sat there, red as a lobster, and bawled curses while
he made his huge revolver spurt flame on flame.
I could not see the other men, but their uproarious mirth could have been
heard half a mile away. When it dawned upon Herky, he was so furious that
he spat at them like an angry cat and clicked his empty revolver.
Then Greaser lurched out of the door. I got a glimpse of him, and, for a
wonder, was actually sorry for him. He looked as if he had been through a
threshing-machine.
"Haw! haw! Ho! ho!" roared the merry lumbermen.
Then they trooped into the cabin. Buell headed the line, and Herky,
sullenly reloading his revolver, came last. At first they groped around in
the dim light, stumbling over everything. Part of the time they were in the
light space near the door, and the rest I could not see them. I scarcely
dared to breathe.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159