Whack!
The wonder was that Andy did not crush the beast's skull in with the monkey wrench. He surely would, had he struck with all his strength; but being afraid that if he missed connections he might lose his balance, and be seized by the brute, he only "tapped for a single," as he afterwards remarked.
It staggered the beast at any rate, and drove him back a foot, stopping his onward rush.
"Good! give him another like that, Andy! I'm coming right along!" whooped Frank who had managed to lay hold on some sort of tool which he carried for emergencies, and was jumping forward as fast as he could move.
The dog tried a second time to seize the daring boy in those cruel white fangs. He presented a terrible sight just then; for there was blood showing on his white hair, where the edge of the monkey wrench had struck.
"You will, will you?" gasped the boy, who had thrown himself into a position of readiness once more, with his novel weapon upraised.
This time the dog tried to duck the descending blow. Had his ruse been successful undoubtedly Andy would have found his ankle fast in the grip of those terrible teeth before he could recover. But again he had figured on such a move; and as he swung the tool downward he jumped forward a pace himself. It was "meeting the ball before the break came," as they would have it in baseball language.
Crunch!
That was surely a good sound crack. The force had been visibly increased too, so that the brute was knocked completely over into a kicking heap.
"Try it again, if you want to!" shouted the now aroused Andy. "Plenty more like that left! Hi! hold on there; what're you sneaking away for? Not had your fill yet, have you, pup? I guess you've got a streak of yellow in you! No prize dog about you. Well, good-bye then. Next time I call I'll try and do better by you!"