He drew near and
watched with increasing excitement and joined with his father at last in
shouts and cheers.
"Did ye ever see such a dog!" he cried through his tears.
"He beats creation!" was the admiring answer.
The Boy bent low over the squirming pair and his voice was in perfect
tune with his dog's low growl:
"Eat him up, Bone! Eat him alive!"
"Don't touch 'em!" Tom warned. "Let 'im have a fair fight--ef he don't
kill that coon I'll eat 'im raw, hide an' hair!"
Boney had succeeded at last in fastening his teeth in a firm grip on the
coon's throat. He held it without a cry of pain while the claws ripped
his ears and gashed his head. Deeper and deeper sank his teeth until at
last the razor claws that were cutting relaxed slowly and the long lean
body with its beautiful fur lay full length on the red-marked stones.
The dog loosed his hold instantly. His work was done. He scorned to
strike a fallen foe. He started to the water's edge to quench his thirst
and staggered in a circle. The blood had blinded him.
The Boy sprang to his side, lifted him tenderly in his arms, carried him
to the water and bathed his eyes and head.
"He's cut all to pieces!" he sobbed at last. "He'll die--I just know
it!"
"Na!" his father answered scornfully. "Be all right in two or three
days.
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