Page:Bob Chester's Grit.djvu/196

180 dismounting, he called the dog to him and stroked his head.

A moment the cowboys watched the proceeding in amazement, then Shorty Flinn voiced their feelings by saying:

"Am I dreamin' or is this tenderfoot pattin' that ornery cur?"

"He's pattin' him, all right," returned Merry Dick. "Say, kid, you're a wonder. There ain't no man ever dared touch that dog so long as I've known about him and that's for ten years."

"But can you make him mind?" demanded Yellow Tom.

"Surely."

"Then stop his growlin* at me."

Recognizing this as a test, Bob stroked the dog's head caressingly, saying, in a matter-of-fact tone:

"Stop growling, boy. None of these men are going to harm me."

A moment the dog looked at Bob, then leisurely glanced from one to another of the cowboys—and stopped snarling.

"That beats all," declared Crazy Ned. "Say, kid, you don't need to fear anybody's playin' tricks on you when that brute is with you."

"No, I guess not," smiled Bob. And then in a burst of confidence he added: "But I don't want people to be nice because they are afraid of