He knew that cry. It was the night-baying of huge dogs gone wild on the trail, of such dogs as he had never seen. Shivering before the window, he listened. They were running swiftly across the prairie above the house, drawing nearer and nearer, their clamour shutting everything else from Stamford's mind. What were they doing there? Where were they making for?
A commotion in the bunk-house brought his eyes in that direction. A pair of figures, trailing saddles, flashed out and ran to the corrals. And even in their haste their movements were furtive. As they galloped madly up the slope toward the oncoming dogs, Stamford heard Dakota Fraley curse under his breath. The hoofs of the horses struck the prairie at first with only the hiss of dead grass, and then the thud-thud of distant galloping.
The dogs were coming fast from the upper side of the house. Stamford braced his trembling legs, climbed through the window, and ran to the back of the house where he could see the slope upward to the prairie. Yard by yard he could follow their advance. Almost as vividly he pictured the rushing of Dakota and his companion to meet them. Half the world then for Hobbles beneath him!
Across the broken howls cut Dakota's bellow, and silence fell like a blow. A few seconds later came two sharp yelps of pain, and then nothing more.
Stamford still stood in the cold night air, one hand pressed against the wall of the house. It was that hand warned him of movement within the house. With a vivid memory of Cockney's warning only an hour before, he darted back for his window.
As he turned the corner a flicker of movement passed between him and the lighted prairie beyond; but it was too quick to place. Dragging his fingers along the wall as he ran, his hand struck something that gave before him. Without stopping, he glanced upward.
A rope ladder was hanging from Professor Bulkeley's window.
A crunch on the gravel walk before the house sent Stamford on, scarcely pausing to think. Throwing himself over the window-sill, he straightened up within his room and waited in panting excitement.
Fear crowded him in—threatened to stifle him. Someone was out there before the house—his ears told him that. But a more thrilling sense warned him that someone was in his room—that if he but reached out his hand he would touch a living body.
"Sh-sh!" The low hiss from beside him dissipated every element of personal fear. "It's Bulkeley!"