“We must knock those fellows on the head,” said Ned; “because they’ll die anyway, and it’s the duty of a scout to put an end to needless pain.”
Although he had already had more than enough of the slaughter, Ned followed after the two escaping animals. They showed their venomous natures by turning on him and snarling furiously; but Ned stopped far enough away not to endanger himself from those glistening fangs exposed when the red lips were drawn back.
Two quick shots did the business, and then there were fifteen.
“Huh! Harkness’ game is about up this time, and he won’t raise any more young wolves to sell the skins for lap-robes and turn over the scalps to the State for bounty money,” Jack observed, as they all gathered again near the fire, which was started up afresh; for they could not think of such a thing as sleep for some little time, after so much excitement.
“If there’s even two dollars apiece, it would net a feller thirty plunks right now, to raise the hair of this bunch,” speculated Jimmy.
“But we don’t want to go into the wolf scalping business, do we, Ned?” expostulated Harry, who viewed the idea with considerable disgust.
“Certainly not,” replied the scout master. “Let Harkness come and get his property if he wants, for all of us. We’ve saved him all the trouble of cleaning up his pack. He ought to thank us for it; but, if what Amos here says about him is true, I don’t believe he will.”
“Well,” said Jack, frowning, “he’d better not get too gay and try to blame us for cleaning out the pack, because we won’t stand any abuse. It was a case of give and take. They meant to pull us down and make a fine meal; and they got what was coming to them. Harkness had better go slow how he complains.”
“I was wondering,” mused Ned, as he settled down comfortably again, just as though nothing worth mentioning had happened to disturb him, “whether anything had come to Harkness?”
“How could there?” demanded Jimmy.