When Pomp’s woolly head cleared the ground Barney tied the rope to a cleat and picked up a barrel stave.
“Watch me droive him troo ther wall!” he roared.
It was now his turn to chuckle and laugh.
Pomp began to look sick.
Around swished the stave over the coon’s coat-tail.
Whang!
Bang!
Plunk!
Thump!
For reports like pistol shots pealed out as Barney brought the stave down upon the coon’s anatomy.