—the shot which ended the misery of Moran’s wounded horse. It was followed by a sound which turned Flash to a raging fiend.
Half a mile inside the mouth of the creek Brent had stopped at the outbreak of the fight ahead. He had turned back when the shooting ceased. The sound Flash heard was Betty’s cry for help sent out to the man who had fired that last single shot. There was no second cry, for Brent clamped his hand on her mouth. But one had been enough and Moran and Flash were both leaping toward the sound.
Flash swept on with every ounce of his terrific speed, knowing that he followed this trail to kill. He ran now with the froth slobbering from his fangs and spattering back on his silky coat. The yellow eyes were streaked with red. His whole heart was driving him with the seething lust to sink his teeth into the man who had caused that cry.
The body scent came from just ahead. Then he saw Brent coming toward him down the trail, his left hand clamped on the girl’s wrist as he pulled her after him.
Brent half turned, reaching for his gun as he heard Moran bounding down the trail behind him.
