the Night Horseman (1920) by Brand Max

Author:Brand, Max [Brand, Max]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-02-26T22:47:04.841000+00:00

Chapter 23. HOW MAC STRANN KEPT THE LAW

FOR WHEN the dog sprang, Mac Strann fired, and the wolf was jerked up in the midst of his leap by the tearing impact of the bullet. It was easy for Strann to dodge the beast, an 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 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 toward Mac Strann.

Haw-Haw Langley stared for a single instant in white faced fear, but when he realized that Black Bart was helpless as a toothless old dog, the tall cowpuncher twisted his fingers with a silent joy. Once more Bart pushed himself toward Mac Strann, and then Haw-Haw Langley stepped forward, and with all the force of his long leg smashed the 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 toward the door.

"I don't want to kill the dog," he repeated. "Get out of here, Haw-Haw. Barry'll be comin' any minute."

He could have used no sharper spur to urge on the laggard. Haw-Haw Langley raced out of the barn with a full stride before Mac Strann. They hurried together to the little rise of ground behind which they had left their horses, and as they ran the scream which had curdled the blood of Randall Byrne rang through the night. In a thousand years he could never have guessed from what that yell issued; his nearest surmise would have been a score of men screaming in unison under the torture. But Mac Strann and Haw-Haw Langley knew the sound well enough.

When they mounted their saddles they could look over the top of the little hill and observe everything easily without being seen; for the hill-top commanded a range of the corrals and a view of the fronts of the barns and sheds which opened upon the fenced enclosures. The largest and longest of these buildings was now plainly visible, for a long arm of fire reached above the roof on one side of the low shed and by this growing light the other barns, the glimmering-eyed horses and cattle of the

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