It was easy
for Strann to dodge the beast, and the great black body hurtled past him
and struck heavily on the floor of the barn. It missed Mac Strann,
indeed, but it fell at the very feet of Haw-Haw Langley, and a splash of
blood flirted across his face. He was too terrified to shriek, but fell
back against the wall of the barn, gasping. There he saw Black Bart
struggle to regain his feet, vainly, for both of the animal's forelegs
seemed paralyzed. Now the yellow light of the fire rose brightly, and by
it Haw-Haw marked the terrible eyes and the lolling, slavering tongue of
the great beast, and the fangs like ivory daggers. It could not regain
its feet, but it thrust itself forward by convulsive efforts of the hind
legs towards Mac Strann.
Haw-Haw Langley stared for a single instant in white faced fear, but
when he realised that Black Bart was helpless as a toothless old dog,
the tall cowpuncher, twisted his lean fingers with a silent joy. Once
more Bart pushed himself towards Mac Strann, and then Haw-Haw Langley
stepped forward, and with all the force of his long leg smashed his
heavy riding boot into the face of the dog. Black Bart toppled back
against the base of the manger, struggled vainly to regain his poise,
and it was then that he pointed his nose up, and wailed like a lost
soul, wailed with the fury of impotent hate. Mac Strann caught Haw-Haw
by the arm and dragged him back towards the door.
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