The Last of the Plainsmen 



able with me, never responding to my attempts to 

 caress him, but now he leaped into my arms and 

 licked my face. He had always hated Jones till 

 that moment, when he raised his paws to his master s 

 breast. And perhaps more remarkable, time and 

 time again he sprang up at Satan s nose, whether to 

 bite him or kiss him, I could not tell. Then old 

 Moze, he of Grand Canon fame, made the delirious 

 antics of his canine fellows look cheap. There was a 

 small, dead pine that had fallen against a drooping 

 branch of the tree Kitty had taken refuge in, and up 

 this narrow ladder Moze began to climb. He was 

 fifteen feet up, and Kitty had begun to shift uneasily, 

 when Jones saw him. 



&quot; Hyar ! you wild coon-chaser ! Git out of that ! 

 Come down ! Come down ! &quot; 



But Jones might have been in the bottom of the 

 canon for all Moze heard or cared. Jones removed 

 his coat, carefully coiled his lasso, and began to go 

 hand and knee up the leaning pine. 



&quot; Hyar! dod-blast you, git down! &quot; yelled Jones, 

 and he kicked Moze off. The persistent hound 

 returned, and followed Jones to a height of twenty 

 feet, where again he was thrust off. 



&quot; Hold him, one of you ! &quot; called Jones. 



&quot; Not me,&quot; said Frank, &quot; I m lookin out for 

 myself.&quot; 



292 



