The upper lips of the animal twitched dangerously back and the
sound came from the very depths of his body. It made the flesh crawl along
Vic's back; one rip of those great teeth could tear a man's throat open.
The child thudded her heels against the ribs of Bart again.
"Giddap!" she cried.
The wolf-dog shuddered but would not budge an inch.
"Naughty Bart!" She slipped off to the floor. "I'll make him come," she
said.
"If it's the same to you," said Vic, rather hastily, "I'd just as soon he
stayed where he is."
"He's got to do what I want," she answered. She shook a tiny forefinger at
him. "Bart, you just come here!"
The dog turned his blazing eyes on her and replied with a growl that shook
his sides.
"Stop!" she ordered, and struck him sharply on the nose. He blinked and
lowered his head under the blow, but though the snarling stopped his teeth
flashed. She caught him by both jowls and tugged him forward.
"Let him be!" urged Vic.
"He's got to come!"
And come he did, step by halting step, while she hauled him, and now the
snarling hoarse intakes of breath filled the room.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81