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There was no turf in this stony world except the sand of the hollows and the wind eddied most of these spaces like water, quickly covering all tracks. It was toward the end of the afternoon that Nels first intimated a scent. Tiger of course that was Nels' orders but it wasn't fresh. Skag gave the Dane word to do the best he could and followed leisurely.
"But see here, Nels, I won't stand for it." "You're not my boss no more, an' I ain't beholdin' to Miss Hammond, neither. I'm my own boss, an' I'll do as I please. Sabe, senor?" Nels's words were at variance with the meaning in his face. "Gene, you sent me on a little scout down in the mountains, didn't you?" he continued. "Yes, I did," replied Stewart, with a new sharpness in his voice.
"You shall hear; but will you be good enough to remember, please, Nels is no average dog. There is nothing better in lineage than his. Also, he is a thoroughly trained hunting dog. My husband, the police commissioner, has used him in hunting tigers and cheetahs, black panthers and leopards of the long sort, the big black bears of Himalaya and jungle pigs, which we call wild boars at Home.
Miss Majesty, it was Arizona thet made Nels what he is, the Arizona desert an' the work of a cowman. He's seen ridin' at Canyon Diablo an' the Verdi an' Tonto Basin. He knows every mile of Aravaipa Valley an' the Pinaleno country. He's ranged from Tombstone to Douglas. He hed shot bad white men an' bad Greasers before he was twenty-one. He's seen some life, Nels has.
The two men's faces lighted up at sight of him, and Tierney shouted, "What did I tell you, Morgan? I knew that guy would find us." "He bane fine man," added a voice from the doorway. "Hello Svenska!" bellowed Tierney. "Who are you?" Nels grinned as Marsh explained who he was. "How did you get in? Where's the gang?" rapidly questioned Morgan.
"Just what are you getting at?" "My master is a preserver of life and Nels is a great hunter." "I've thought of that. Is there any danger that he will kill when I don't want him to?" "Sahib, I, Bhanah, have known Nels since he was a puppy, I have seen him take his training to kill; therefore I believe he will quickly be taught to work together with my master, who is his heart's desire.
"Is that all?" inquired Marsh. "Aye tell my wife she say Aye drink too much hootch," grinned Nels. "So Aye don't tell her about deh oder night." "What night was that?" "Aye tenk las' Monday night. Aye go see Ole. He have some new stuff goodt goodt. Aye stay late don't see well com'n' home. Aye tenk Aye turn in my own gate and walk walk walk but no home. Aye hear auto com'n' get out of de road.
He was gone not more than a minute, and then he came back with a jump and a whoop, holding Jeff's tattered blanket in one hand and a pair of well-worn boots in the other. "Wake snakes!" yelled Nels, striking up a war-dance and frantically flourishing the captured articles over his head. "He's skipped, that hoss-thief has! He's lit out, I tell ye!"
"Go back the way you came," he fairly yelled; and his voice had the ring of a bugle. Ambrose nudged Madeline; his whisper was tense and rapid: "Don't miss nothin'. Gene's called him. Whatever's comin' off will be here quick as lightnin'. See! I guess maybe that Greaser don't savvy good U. S. lingo. Look at that dirty yaller face turn green. Put one eye on Nels and Monty!
He remembered Carlin; no, he must not think of her now. He remembered that Nels was gone; no, he must not think of that either. All the weapons he had were in his heart, in his head. He set himself in order, ready.
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