"Maybe I won't," jeered Fred.

"Maybe you will," retorted Dave Darrin indignantly. His voice
rang with righteous contempt. "Either you'll stand by at a time
like this, or I'll fall upon you tooth and nail---with the very
able help of the dog!"

Gr-r-r-r! approved Towser, again showing his teeth.

"I---I'll take you!" quavered Ripley.

"Of course you will," nodded Darrin. "Wait till I see if the
lantern is all right."

He crawled into the tent, found the lantern and struck a match.
Curiously enough the lantern had not been injured. Placing the
lantern outside, Darrin sharply commanded his chance companion
to aid in propping the canvas so that those underneath could get
air.

"Now, come along," ordered Darrin, when this had been done. "Towser,
watch the---the gentleman!"

Thus they started up the slope, when they heard a growl just ahead
of them. In the same instant Towser, uttering a yelp, turned
and darted away as fast as he could go.

"Now, we'll see whether you'll boss me," grunted Fred Ripley,
brandishing the club that he held in his left hand. "Your dog
is no good any more."