Thor was not dead; his body jerked and quivered now and again, in spasms. Yet he seemed to be dying. And it grew clear to Lynette, as, at a glance, it had been clear to Standing, what had happened. Thor had been left in charge of camp; but the one word had rung in the faithful head: "Watch!" And then some one had come; Thor had been true to his trust; some man had struck him down with club or a rifle barrel; had struck and struck again. Thor's fore leg was broken; he had been battered over the head ... bones were broken, the skull seemed crushed ... the dog stiffened; fell back....
"Dying," said Standing, still on his knees. He placed old Thor very gently on the ground, striving after his own rough fashion to make a dog's last few minutes of breathing no more tormenting than was inevitable.
"Thor," said Standing gently. "Good old Thor!"
The dog tried to rouse. The old faithful head on Standing's knee stirred ever so little. The old steadfast eyes, red-rimmed but clear-sighted, were on Standing's. If ever a dog could have spoken....
Standing, with sudden thought, jumped to his feet.
"There's a chance for him yet! There is Billy Winch, the one man on earth to save a dying dog or horse.... Yes, or man!"
He cupped his hands at his mouth and sent forth, piercing through the leafy silences, that wild wolf-call which must bring Winch about in short order ... if he was not already too far to hear it.
"He may be too far," cried Lynette. Already she was down upon her knees, taking his place and gathering Thor's head into her lap. "Hurry. If you can find your horse and ride after him, surely you can overtake him."
"God bless you!" He began running. But before a dozen swift steps were taken he stopped and came back to her, muttering: "But the man who did this for Thor? He'll not be far away; I can't leave you...."
"I am not afraid of a man like him," said Lynette. "A coward, or he would not have done this.... Leave me your rifle and hurry!"