"Maybe I won't," jeered Fred.
"Maybe you will," retorted Dave Darrin indignantly. His voice rang with righteous contempt. "Either you'll stand by at a time like this, or I'll fall upon you tooth and nail—-with the very able help of the dog!"
Gr-r-r-r! approved Towser, again showing his teeth.
"I—-I'll take you!" quavered Ripley.
"Of course you will," nodded Darrin. "Wait till I see if the lantern is all right."
He crawled into the tent, found the lantern and struck a match. Curiously enough the lantern had not been injured. Placing the lantern outside, Darrin sharply commanded his chance companion to aid in propping the canvas so that those underneath could get air.
"Now, come along," ordered Darrin, when this had been done. "Towser, watch the—-the gentleman!"
Thus they started up the slope, when they heard a growl just ahead of them. In the same instant Towser, uttering a yelp, turned and darted away as fast as he could go.
"Now, we'll see whether you'll boss me," grunted Fred Ripley, brandishing the club that he held in his left hand. "Your dog is no good any more."
"Neither will you or I be any good any more if we don't keep our nerve," uttered Darrin quietly, as he turned the lantern's rays against the object in their path. "There's only one thing in the world Towser would run away from, and that's just what is ahead of us—-a mad dog!"