"He sure did, Bob; but that was because he had already been stirred up
by the fight with Spanish Joe. I reckon the cowboy must have give him
a few jabs with that handy knife he owns. Anyhow, the panther was
spoiling for a scrap, and didn't care a cent how many there were."
"That was before you gave him his finish with that fire-stick, Frank.
Didn't that knock the old chap silly, though? Why, it took all the
fight out of him, for a fact. He was the tame panther all right when
he ran away, with his tail between his legs. Think he'll tackle us
again?"
"No telling; but I don't believe the beast cares much for running
against my torch again. It might pay for both of us, though, to keep
on the watch," Frank replied, always on the side of caution.
"But I say, Frank, is the fact that he's private property going to make
any difference; that is, do I shoot straight if I get the chance again?"
"Well, I say yes," answered the other. "Given half a chance and he'd
maul us the worst way. No matter who's property he may be, I'd advise
him to keep clear of Haywood and Archer. They're marked,
dangerous--hands and claws off, but come along, Bob; let's be moving."
"Wait, there it comes again, Frank. Don't you think we'd better lie
down till the worst is over?" ventured Bob, as he caught the opening
notes of the mighty anvil chorus that would soon be in full blast.
"Well, now, perhaps that wouldn't be a bad idea, Bob.
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