The colonel, of course, knew nothing about Darrel being close at hand, so his frantic cries were all directed at Jode.
“Jode!” he shouted. “I’m trapped by a bowlder! Hurry, and tear away the fuse! Jode! Do you hear me?”
At just this moment, when Jode’s presence was so urgently demanded by the colonel, another factor had come bounding into the weird progress of events. The coyote dog had been skulking among the rocks above the ledge. The roar of the falling bowlder had frightened the animal, and he had uttered a wild yelp and started for the top of the gulch wall. Before he reached the crest, he saw Frank and his chums, and whirled and dashed down the slope. His course carried him among the bowlders where Jode had sought refuge from the débris of the blast.
And now, under the colonel’s own eyes, Jode Lenning gave abundant proof of the “yellow streak” in his character. He saw the tawny form of the outcast dog leaping toward him, eyes gleaming, mouth open, and red tongue protruding. Fear seized Jode, for no doubt he believed in the superstition that was held by many of the settlers in those parts, and felt in his soul that the dog was rushing upon him in a vengeful mood.
The frantic shouts of the colonel passed over Jode’s head unheeded. The colonel might be in danger, but Jode was obsessed with the idea that his own danger was fully as great. So, why should he think of his uncle when his own life swung in the balance?
This must have been the trend of Lenning’s reasoning. With a cry of fear, he rushed out from among the rocks and raced for the trail at the foot of the gulch wall.
As a matter of fact, the coyote dog had no designs whatever upon Jode. All the animal was trying to do was to efface himself from the scene as quickly as possible. Very likely, he was more anxious to get away from Jode than Jode was to get away from him.
Howling for help, stumbling, and falling, and rolling, Jode put forth every effort to reach the bottom of the slope. Long before he had accomplished his purpose, the coyote dog had passed him on an angling course and had flickered away down the gulch. Jode, in his excitement, failed to notice this. He had the impression that the enraged brute was still on his trail, and did not slacken his pace.
Colonel Hawtrey, lying helpless on the ledge with the flame of the fuse dancing nearer and nearer to the charge of dynamite, was able to watch his nephew flying down the slope. In that tense moment the boy’s whole nature must have revealed itself to the colonel in a single flash.
Merriwell had not remained long inactive on the crest of the sloping bank. As soon as it became evident that nothing could be expected from Jode, he flung himself among the masses of bowlders and splintered rocks and began a descent toward the ledge.