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Updated: June 4, 2025


Such orders were just to his taste. A touch on the lever and the automobile shot down the hillside at a speed more rapid than Terror's own.

In the narrow chink, just wide enough for him to ride his horse through, he placed three loaded Sharps .50-caliber rifles, ready for quick use. They had not long to wait. Only a few minutes had elapsed after the wagons had been shifted when Kid Wolf saw a body of horsemen approaching from the west. It was The Terror's band!

Heaven knows that the princess was not a demonstrative child; indeed, she had never had the chance. But he had just finished his task and was surveying the shining result with satisfaction, when, of a sudden, without any warning, she threw her arms round his neck and kissed him. "Oh, you are nice!" she said. The Terror's ineffable serenity was for once scattered to the winds.

They were dropping accurately placed shots where they would be sure to do the most good. Then The Terror's band retreated, broke formation. The retreat became a rout a mad get-away with every man for himself. Outnumbered as they were, the defenders were making more than a good account of themselves. Kid Wolf's eyes sought for The Terror himself and found him.

On the Ipplinger starship a communications tech slapped home a switch and the solido-vision circle settled over the Blond Terror's head, a halo of solid light for a complex Ipplinger signal-reaction device. "Hail Ippling!" Boswellister shouted. Boswellister strained forward, clutching the seat arms. It had to work! His equation must be right! The symbol had the proper cultural connotations.

"There, Imp, you see it's all right!" said he, and then paused, and held his breath. "Did ye hear anythink?" whispered the boy. "A chain rattled, I think." "And 't was in The Terror's' stall, there? didn't ye hear somethink else, sir?" "No!"

Then she breathed a short silent prayer for forgiveness, smiled and said warmly: "It's really wonderful. You must have inspired him with that enthusiasm yourself." "I suppose I must," said Lady Ryehampton with an air of satisfaction. "And I must be careful not to discourage him." Miss Hendersyde thought of the Terror's face, his charming sympathetic manners, and his darned knickerbockers.

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