There was a moment’s silence, during which Tom almost forgot to breathe. Lead Dather’s rifle pushed a little harder into the small of his back, and Tom braced himself. Then the pressure was eased by the menace in Buck Brunt’s voice.
“I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you.”
Lead Dather tightened, then relaxed and muttered, “Aw, I was just foolin’.”
“Yeah. All you boys want your little joke. Well, this one backfired.”
“You got nothin’ on us,” Fred Larsen growled.
“One thing I’ve got on you is a double-barreled shotgun, and don’t forget it. Take their guns, Tom.”
Smoky leaped out of the car and landed beside Tom. The big hound stood tense and bristled. He could tear a man’s throat out with one snap of his jaws, and the two men seemed to sense that he was entirely willing to try it.
