Dick Merriwell, running lightly into the corridor, had been stopped by the dog, which suddenly whirled on him and drove him back several steps, seeming on the point of leaping at the lad’s throat.
For some unknown reason the dog seemed to have taken a sudden dislike to the boy, and, as he growled and showed his teeth, he looked dangerous, indeed.
Immediately on being driven back by the dog, Dick had drawn a revolver, which he held ready for use. Elrich uttered an exclamation of astonishment and anger.
“Stop Rex, Dan!” he exclaimed. “Get hold of him, Tom! He’ll chew up the kid!”
“He won’t do that,” returned the boy instantly, “for I shall shoot him in his tracks if you don’t take care of him.”
The men accompanying Elrich leaped forward, one on either side of the dog, and grasped the huge animal by the collar. Barely had they seized him thus when the animal tried to make a spring at the throat of the boy, and it took their combined strength to hold him in check. “It’s a good thing for him that you grabbed him just when you did,” exclaimed the cool youngster. “I knew he was going to jump, and I’d sure shot him.”
“Why, confound you, kid!” growled Elrich, as the men pulled the dog back; “how dare you pull a revolver on my dog?”
“I’d pull a gun on your dog just as quick as I would on you,” returned Dick. “I don’t consider your dog much better than you, sir, though it’s right likely he is some.”
“That is my brother!” said Frank Merriwell to Berlin Carson.
“Well, he’s a hummer!” exclaimed the rancher’s son, in deep admiration.