Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE GRAY SHADOW. ‘““ No, a pistol won’t do; Ill need a rifle. {’d better do the job myself and make sure of it—don’t want the poor cuss dragging himself about wounded.” They did not see Sandy that day, but that evening Marie was very quiet and twice she cried, but she did not attempt to stop Brick when he cleaned and loaded the thirty-thirty. ‘““T won’t shoot unless he’s caught in the act, Marie; I promise you that. If we can get hoid of him I’ll ship him back to Nome; I'll agree to that, too.” Then he donned his mackinaw and mitis and stepped into the night. It was bright moonlight, the air was crisp, there was a thin crust on the snow. Brick worked over toward Nelson’s sheep. Here in a draw it was sheltered from the cold wind, and there was feed above, where the wind had blown the snow off. He was still a quarter of a mile away when from the center of the band flame leaped three times in quick succession. The crack of a thirty-thirty broke the night silence, and the echo was hurled sharply back from the neighboring peaks, until the whole district seemed filled with shooting. A gray object, almost a shadow, swept from the edge of the flock to the timber and merged with darker shadows. Nelson had missed his chance. It was difficult to shoot after dark, particularly when a man is moved by rage. Brick Stewart retraced his steps, his mind a curious mixture of elation and disappoint- ment. Nelson had missed, but Brick had seen the gray object with his own eyes. For nearly an hour Brick worked his way along the edge of the timber, and though he frequently sighed, nevertheless his mind was made up. He was never a man to dodge the issue, regardless of cost. As he neared his own sheep there was an unexpected movement in the brush, and Sandy emerged. For several seconds he stood in the moonlight, sharply outlined against a snowbank. Brick raised the rifle, and Sandy’s big, fine head came within range of the sights; Brick’s finger hesitated, and the next in- stant Sandy had scented the man and was trotting toward him. Brick swore. 441 “Why didn’t he turn, or snarl, or some- thing. [ can’t shoot the old boy when he’s coming toward me with so much affection in his attitude.” He swore mildly again and waited. A cold breeze came through the timber, Stirring the leaves, drifting on to the valley below. The dog grew rigid, then with a bouna vanished. “Got suspicious the last minute,” Brick muttered, ‘‘ and he moved too quick for me to shoot. That settled that. He knows how we stand, and it’ll make it easier for me.” The man took’ up the trail—the big, wolf- ish footprints in the snow. From the im- pression it was clear the dog was bounding away with all his speed and strength. Brick returned to the open to head him off. A moment later the silence of the night was broken by the striking of many hoofs against frozen ground. It reminded Brick of an abrupt hail storm. — The flock of sheep was suddenly moving, and in the moonlight he saw them stream from the draw while Pete and Joe bounded to keep the flock together. Then from the timber sprang a gray shadow straight for the nearest sheep. -Pete turned and met the other with a snarl, and the click of the wolf fangs came distinctly through the night. Pete cried out sharply and fled, no match for his enemy, but wounded as he was, the sheep dog made another stand with his back to the flock. Brick Stewart lifted his-rifle and emptied it at the killer, and stopped him within twenty feet of the trembling Pete. The gray shadow slid on his hind legs in an efiort to stop, then turned and raced for the woods. And at that moment Brick grew cold all over, and something primitive deep within was stirred violently. A second gray shad- ow had leaped from the darkness and cut off the killer’s retreat. “Sandy!” the man cried. Sandy!” And then they came together, fang met fang, body met body, for this was to be a fight to the death. And as he watched Brick understood why Sandy had howled on that moonlight night. “At him, COMMING NO SEO) PO SEIE BED Ora ee ey Ce ee?