OCR Text |
Show 65 Just then a flash of grey and black caught Josh's eye from the bottom of the hill. In the creek there Chinook was splashing playfully through the pools as if he'd never had such a good time. Josh held his breath. The dog was a hundred yards from the cabin, down in the creek bed where he couldn't be seen by the men. But he was splashing so much water that the commotion was sure to draw their attention soon. Where Josh crouched the pines ended, but there were clumps of mountain mahogany and willows scattered between him and the creek. He decided these would provide enough cover so that he could scoot down the hillside without being seen, grab his dog, and head for town with Cap. They could bring the police-maybe even the FBI- back with them. From where he was Josh couldn't see Cap any longer. But surely he would guess what Josh was doing. Coming to his feet, Josh skitted from one bush to another, pausing every few yards to see if the men had emerged from the cabin. Luckily, nothing moved down there, and in a minute he had reached the willows along the creek. Ahead of him he could hear frantic motion in the water. Josh sailed over the embankment to land with a thump at the stream's edge. Over the centuries the stream had cut its way a half dozen feet felow the meadow. Here in the protection of the stream-banks, Josh felt more protected. Yet as he looked around for his dog he sensed a rising apprehension in his chest. The sparkling water of the creek was muddy where the dog had just galloped through, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then he heard something in the pool around the bend. |