"Oh, you needn't think you can get away. The men are hunting for
you further up the train. They'll be along here in a minute, and
then I reckon you'll be tied up and dumped into the lion cage,
though I don't think even a lion would eat such a mean hound as
you are."
Suddenly the man straightened up. Now, he held something in his
hand besides the knife. It was a stake.
Red drew back his arm, hurling the heavy stick straight at his
young adversary's head. Phil, observing the movement let
drive his own tent stake, but having to throw so hurriedly, his
aim was poor. Red Larry's aim, on the other hand was better.
Phil dodged like a flash.
Had he not done so the stake would have struck him squarely in
the face. As it was the missile grazed the side of his head,
causing the lad to fall in a heap.
Red Larry hesitated only for a second, then leaping to the high
rear seat of the wagon drew his knife along the canvas above him,
opening a great slit in it. Through the opening thus made he
peered cautiously. What he saw evidently convinced him of the
truth of what Phil had just said. Up toward the head of the
train the searchers were at work, and from what Red had heard he
realized they were looking for him.
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