Swish!
Alcibiades whales away with that sack and hits the old judge right in the back of his neck. He lands on his hands and knees but skids back to his feet.
“Who hit me?” he wails. “Who threw that?”
Z-z-z-z-z-z-zee!
The string had come off the sack and right at their feet coiled the rattler, indignant as thunder over things in general.
“Ah-h-h-h-h-h! Wow!” yelps Doughgod.
The monkey cage must ’a’ got busted up in the fracas, ’cause just then a mangy little member of the missing links hopped from a wagon-wheel and lit on Doughgod’s shoulder. Doughgod stiffens like he was hanging on to a electric battery and then lets out another whoop and tries to buck the monk off. Doughgod collides with Old Testament and the two of ’em goes down in a heap.
“Make it a good one,” says Magpie and kicks the staple out of the lock on the dog cage.
Doughgod and Old Testament got up just in time to trail the others and lead that yelping bunch of mongrels away from us. Then we flops, weary-like, down upon our canvas again. Magpie slips his gun loose and shoots the head off that snake, which is hunting for a place to hive up under our tents.
“Five hundred and eighty dollars, Magpie,” says I. “She’s going fast.”