He was altogether too much interested in this wonderful monster.
Without an instant’s hesitation he scrambled up on the rocks behind him, stopping and looking back when he had gained a flat ledge about ten feet up from the ground.
Undoubtedly he then witnessed a sight which no other man had ever seen before, unless it might be some Indian wandering through this part of the Bad Lands.
Without paying the least attention to Dick the monster came up out of the water entirely and went waddling along the shore on four little stumpy legs, dragging behind it a thick, scaly tail fully thirty feet in length and taking his course toward the hut.
Martin Mudd looked back and saw it coming. The hut door flew open and Bill Struthers and the man Tony came rushing out.
“Gee whiz! What’s that? Have I got ’em again?” Tony yelled and he made a bee line for the horses.
“Not without me. I don’t stay here none now,” shouted Struthers, following him.
“Hold on. Hold on, you fools. Get your guns and shoot the critter. Don’t go off and leave me so,” Martin Mudd called out at the top of his lungs.
But his companions paid no attention to him.
Cutting the hobbles, they flung themselves on their horses and went dashing up the lake shore.