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wn the road in the direction of Jerry's noisy pursuit。 Jerry's noise broke in a sharp cry of pain that added wings to Michael's feet。 Michael passed him rolling helplessly on the road。 What had happened was that the livery horse； in its stiff… jointed； broken…kneed gallop； had stumbled； nearly fallen； and； in its sprawling recovery； had accidentally stepped on Jerry； bruising and breaking his fore…leg。
And the man； looking back and seeing Michael close upon him； decided that it was still another dog attacking him。 But he had no fear of dogs。 It was men； with their rifles and shot…guns； that might bring him to ultimate grief。 Nevertheless； the pain of his bleeding legs； lacerated by Jerry and Michael； maintained his rage against dogs。
〃More dogs；〃 was his bitter thought； as he leaned out and brought his whip down across Michael's face。
To his surprise； the dog did not wince under the blow。 Nor for that matter did he yelp or cry out from the pain。 Nor did he bark or growl or snarl。 He closed in as though he had not received the blow； and as though the whip was not brandished above him。 As Michael leaped for his right leg he swung the whip down； striking him squarely on the muzzle midway between nose and eyes。 Deflected by the blow； Michael dropped back to earth and ran on with his longest leaps to catch up and make his next spring。
But the man had noticed another thing。 At such close range； bringing his whip down； he could not help noting that Michael had kept his eyes open under the blow。 Neither had he winced nor blinked as the whip slashed down on him。 The thing was uncanny。 It was something new in the way of dogs。 Michael sprang again； the man timed him again with the whip； and he saw the uncanny thing repeated。 By neither wince nor blink had the dog acknowledged the blow。
And then an entirely new kind of fear came upon the man。 Was this the end for him； after all he had gone through？ Was this deadly silent； rough…coated terrier the thing destined to destroy him where men had failed？ He did not even know that the dog was real。 Might it not be some terrible avenger； out of the mystery beyond life； placed to beset him and finish him finally on this road that he was convinced was surely the death…road？ The dog was not real。 It could not be real。 The dog did not live that could take a full…arm whip…slash without wince or flinch。
Twice again； as the dog sprang； he deflected it with accurately delivered blows。 And the dog came on with the same surety and silence。 The man surrendered to his terror； clapping heels to his horse's old ribs； beating it over the head and under the belly with the whip until it galloped as it had not galloped in years。 Even on that apathetic steed the terror descended。 It was not terror of the dog； which it knew to be only a dog； but terror of the rider。 In the past its knees had been broken and its joints stiffened for ever； by drunken…mad riders who had hired him from the stables。 And here was another such drunken…mad riderfor the horse sensed the man's terrorwho ached his ribs with the weight of his heels and beat him cruelly over face and nose and ears。
The best speed of the horse was not very great； not great enough to out…distance Michael； although it was fast enough to give the latter only infrequent opportunities to spring for the man's leg。 But each spring was met by the unvarying whip…blow that by its very weight deflected him in the air。 Though his teeth each time clipped together perilously close to the man's leg； each time he fell back to earth he had to gather himself together and run at his own top speed in order to overtake the terror…stricken man on the crazy…galloping horse。
Enrico Piccolomini saw the chase and was himself in at the finish； and the affair； his one great adventure in the world； gave him wealth as well as material for conversation to the end of his days。 Enrico Piccolomini was a wood…chopper on the Kennan Ranch。 On a rounded knoll； overlooking the road； he had first heard the galloping hoofs of the horse and the crack of the whip…blows on its body。 Next； he had seen the running battle of the man； the horse； and the dog。 When directly beneath him； not twenty feet distant； he saw the dog leap； in its queer silent way； straight up and in to the down…smash of the whip； and sink its teeth in the rider's leg。 He saw the dog； with its weight； as it fell back to earth； drag the man half out of the saddle。 He saw the man； in an effort to recover his balance； put his own weight on the bridle… reins。 And he saw the horse； half…rearing； half…tottering and stumbling； overthrow the last shred of the man's balance so that he followed the dog to the ground。
〃And then they are like two dogs； like two beasts；〃 Piccolomini was wont to tell in after…years over a glass of wine in his little hotel in Glen Ellen。 〃The dog lets go the man's leg and jumps for the man's throat。 And the man； rolling over； is at the dog's throat。 Both his handssohe fastens about the throat of this dog。 And the dog makes no sound。 He never makes sound； before or after。 After the two hands of the man stop his breath he can not make sound。 But he is not that kind of a dog。 He will not make sound anyway。 And the horse stands and looks on； and the horse coughs。 It is very strange all that I see。
〃And the man is mad。 Only a madman will do what I see him do。 I see the man show his teeth like any dog； and bite the dog on the paw； on the nose； on the body。 And when he bites the dog on the nose； the dog bites him on the check。 And the man and the dog fight like hell； and the dog gets his hind legs up like a cat。 And like a cat he tears the man's shirt away from his chest； and tears the skin of the chest with his claws till it is all red with bleeding。 And the man yow…yowls； and makes noises like a wild mountain lion。 And always he chokes the dog。 It is a hell of a fight。
〃And the dog is Mister Kennan's dog； a fine man； and I have worked for him two years。 So I will not stand there and see Mister Kennan's dog all killed to pieces by the man who fights like a mountain lion。 I run down the hill； but I am excited and forget my axe。 I run down the hill； maybe from this door to that door； twenty feet or maybe thirty feet。 And it is nearly all finished for the dog。 His tongue is a long ways out； and his eyes like covered with cobwebs； but still he scratches the man's chest with his hind…feet and the man yow…yowls like a hen of the mountains。
〃What can I do？ I have forgotten the axe。 The man will kill the dog。 I look for a big rock。 There are no rocks。 I look for a club。 I cannot find a club。 And the man is killing the dog。 I tell you what I do。 I am no fool。 I kick the man。 My shoes are very heavynot like shoes I wear now。 They are the shoes of the woodchopper； very thick on the sole with hard leather； with many iron nails。 I kick the man on the side of the face； on the neck； right under the ear。 I kick once。 It is a good kick。 It is enough。 I know the placeright under the ear。
〃And the man lets go of the dog。 He shuts his eyes； and opens his mouth； and lies very still。 And the dog begins once more to breathe。 And with the breath comes the life； and right away he wants to kill the man。 But I say 'No；' though I am very much afraid of the dog。 And the man begins to become alive。 He opens his eyes and he looks at me like a mountain lion。 And his mouth makes a noise like a mountain lion。 And I am afraid of him like I am afraid of the dog。 What am I to do？ I have forgotten the axe。 I tell you what I do。 I kick the man once again under the ear。 Then I take my belt； and my bandana handkerchief； and I tie him。 I tie his hands。 I tie his legs； too。 And all the time I am saying 'No；' to the dog； and that he must leave the man alone。 And the dog looks。 He knows I am his friend and am tying the man。 And he does not bite me； though I am very much afraid。 The dog is a terrible dog。 Do I not know？ Have I not seen him take a strong man out of the saddle？a man that is like a mountain lion？
〃And then the men come。 They all have guns…rifles； shotguns； revolvers； pistols。 And I think； first； that justice is very quick in the United States。 Only just now have I kicked a man in the head； and； one…two…three； just like that； men come with guns to take me to jail for kicking a man in the head。 At first I do not understand。 The many men are angry with me。 They call me names； and say bad things； but they do not arrest me。 Ah！ I begin to understand！ I hear them talk about three thousand dollars。 I have robbed them of three thousand dollars。 It is not true。 I say so。 I say never have I robbed a man of one cent。 Then they laugh。 And I feel better and I understand better。 The three thousand dollars is the reward of the Government for this man I have tied up with my belt and my bandana。 And the three thousand dollars is mine because I kicked the man in the head and tied his hands and his feet。
〃So I do not work for Mister Kennan any more。 I am a rich man。 Three thousand dollars； all mine； from the Government； and Mister Kennan sees that it is paid to me by the Government and not robbed from me by the men with the guns。 Just becau