ldn't he? Bah! Not if he was a man, no. I tell you, he ain't a man;
he's what the canuks up north call a were-wolf! There ain't no mercy or
kindness in him. The blood of a man means nothin' to him. The world
would be better rid of him. Oh, he can be soft and gentle as a girl.
Mostly he is. But cross him once and he forgets all you done for him.
Give him a taste of blood and he jumps at your throat. I tell you, I've
seen him do it!"

He broke off with a shudder.

"Doc," he said, in a lower and solemn voice. "Maybe I've said too much.
Don't tell Kate nothin' about why I'm goin'. Let her go on dreamin' her
fool dream. But now hear what I'm sayin'; If Dan Barry crosses me once
more, one of us two dies, and dies damned quick. It may be me, it may be
him, but I've come to the end of my rope. I'm leavin' this place till
Barry gets a chance to come to his senses and see what I've done for
him. That's all. I'm leavin' this place because they's a blight
on it, and that blight is Dan Barry. I'm leaving this place
because--doc--because I can smell the comin' of bloodshed in it. They's
a death hangin' over it. If the lightnin' was to hit and burn it up,
house and man, the range would be better for it!"

And he turned on his heel and strode slowly down towards the corral.
Doctor Byrne followed his progress with starting eyes.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE BATTLE

The chain which fastened Black Bart had been passed around the trunk of
a tree that stood behind the ranch house, and there the great dog lay
tethered. Doctor Byrne had told Whistling Dan, with some degree of
horror, that the open air was in the highest degree dangerous to wounds,
but Whistling Dan had returned no answer. So Black Bart lay all day in
the soft sand, easing himself from time to time into a new position, and
his thoughtful eyes seemed to be concentrated on the desire to grow
well. Beside him was the chair in which Dan Barry sat for many an hour
of the day and even the night.

Kate Cumberland watched the animal from the shadow of the house; his
eyes were closed, and the long, powerful head lay inert on the sand, yet
she knew that the wolf-dog was perfectly aware of her presence. Day
after day since he lay there, she had attempted to approach Black Bart,
and day after day he had allowed her to come within reaching distance of
him, only to drive her back at the last moment by a sudden display of
the murderous, long fangs; or by one of those snarls which came