ibly help to strike terror into the hearts of the
four-footed assailants.

"You will, eh? Take that for a starter, and plenty more where that came
from! Try to catch me off my guard, will you? Whoop! that was a beauty
of a crack! Hope I made you see stars that time, you snarling beast,
you! Get back there! Shinny on your own side, can't you?" and he gave a
sudden kick at one of the smaller dogs, that, taking advantage of the
row, had tried to creep in and nip him on the leg.

While all this was going on, Fred had his hands full with the other two
dogs. If they lacked some of the ferocity and daring of the leader of
the pack, it was made up in the fact of their being a pair to watch, and
keep from closing in with him.

Fast his club flew, and hearty were the whacks he gave right and left.
One after the other he had sent his assailants headlong, thanks to lucky
shots. When they returned to the scrap, they began to give evidence that
this sort of thing had begun to pall upon their liking, and this
encouraged the boy to work harder than ever.

Just then, imagine the delight of the two hard pressed boys when they
heard a cheery shout close by, and saw a lithe figure, also in running
trunks, come leaping toward the spot.

No need for them to ask themselves who this could be, for well did they
know the most remarkable method of getting over the ground peculiar to
Colon, and which some people likened to the singular hopping of a
kangaroo.

He already had a club in his hand, and he immediately started in to wield
it with telling effect on one of Fred's assailants. The consequence was
that this particular dog turned tail, and ran off at top speed. Its
mate, as though realizing the folly of keeping up an unequal combat,
hastened to do the same.

This left the savage leader of the pack alone to face three antagonists.
Fred could not help but feel something akin to admiration for the defiant
beast as he attacked first one and then another of them. Evidently the
idea of running, and saving his hide, had not as yet appealed to the
enraged dog.

"Keep knocking him, everybody!" shrieked Bristles, now more than ever
determined on finishing the terror of the neighboring farmers. "We've
just got to nail him, boys. Don't let him shoot past you! Pound him on
the head! Knock him galleywest! That was a socker, Fred; you've got him
down, I tell you! Now, everyone pile in and we'll end his sheep-killing
career for him!