| OCR Text |
Show 69 Rollins shoved him staggering forward. When he did that, Chinook half crouched, glaring, his tail lowered and his ears laid back. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, and his yellow eyes took on a wild light of hatred. It was the first time Josh had ever seen him like that. "I told you," Rollins snapped, motioning the pistol at the dog. "No!" Josh cried, hugging tight to the dog's neck. "It's okay, Chinook," he assured the dog, whose wolf eyes still burned up into those of the man who had pushed Josh. Quickly the boy led the dog to the door and thrust him outside. Josh stood in the doorway, half feeling the gun pointed at from behind. His voice took on a harshness he did not feel as he commanded, "Now get on out of here ! Go on, Chinook, run!" He slammed the door then. But as soon as the door shut, the dog began to scratch at it. Rollins shot an annoyed glance at the boy. Bixby jerked his head toward Josh. "How much does he know?" "I dunno," Rollins said. "Kid, what the devil you doin' up here in the mountains, anyway?" Stalling for time, Josh pulled out an old nail keg from a pile of trash and sat on it. He didn't dare let them know he had seen them run from the city offices after the explosion. He decided there were times to stretch the truth. Now it was time for a whopper. "Why, I come up here all the time to visit my grandpa," he said cheerfully, pointing toward the Raintree cabin. "He lives just over the hill there. Gosh, what are you guys doing up here? You're still detectiving, aren't you?" He said it brightly, confidentially, as if he were sharing their secret. |
