Page:Edison Marshall--Shepherds of the wild.djvu/182

174 he knew that he was face to face with a mortal foe; but he felt a miraculous trust in his own strength.

"I know something about Landy Fargo," Hugh answered quietly. "He's not the man I let sit by my fire. And the sooner you get away I think the better it will be."

Fargo glared, and there ensued a half-second of strained silence, of curious immobility on the part of them both. The fire blazed beside them, the shadows leaped and danced, far away the moon gleamed on the white peaks of the Rockies. The whole forest world was wrapped in impenetrable silence. Fargo snarled, then started to turn.

And at that instant each of them forgot—for a little while—each other's presence. They stood wholly silent, scarcely breathing,—listening as men listen when life itself is at stake. From far away in the still forest—in the direction that Alice had gone—both of them heard the faint, savage bay of the hounds.

No human being, at that distance, could mistake the cry. The pack was hunting. It was running its game. And from the wild excitement and exultation of the clamoring voices, it was plain that the trail was hot, that the hounds were almost upon their prey.

Hugh suddenly turned his eyes to Fargo, trying to interpret the strange, exultant look in his brutal face. His own eyes narrowed. Then he