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"I want that bullet!"
"Come take it."
"I'll do just that."
Ted balanced on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, a grin of sheerest delight on his face. Thornton was bigger than he--and heavier--and he was moving like a trained boxer. But because his back was turned, he did not see Tammie burst from the scrub beech and race him down. Tammie went into the air.
His flying body struck squarely and Carl Thornton took two involuntary forward steps. He fell face downwards and rolled over to shield his throat with his right arm. Tammie's bared fangs gleamed an inch away and Thornton's voice was m.u.f.fled.
"Call him off! I'll give you a thousand dollars for the bullet!"
"No, thanks," Ted said evenly, "and I wouldn't move if I were you.
Anyway, I wouldn't move too far or fast. Tammie might get nervous." He raised his voice. "All right, Loring, I think he'll tell you the rest now."
Ted scarcely noticed when Loring Blade came out from behind Glory Rock because his whole attention was centered on the man who emerged from the beech scrub. Al Harkness was lean as a wolf. His ragged hair had been hacked as short as possible with a hunting knife and his beard was bushy. His tattered clothing was held together with strips of deerskin, fox pelt, wildcat fur and fishing line. But his step was lithe and his eyes were clear and happy.
"Hi, Ted!"
"h.e.l.lo, Dad!"
They came very close and looked at each other, saying with their eyes all that which, for the moment, they could find no words to express....
Then Al asked, "How you been, Son?"
"Fine! Had a swell season! As soon as you get squared around again--and used to living like a civilized man--we can start two more camps."
"Right glad to hear it. You'll have your lodge yet."
"Might at that. How have you been?"
"Not too bad." Al grinned his old grin. "Not too bad at all."
"Hey!" Loring Blade called plaintively. "Call your dog, will you? I've told him six times to get away so I can start taking this guy to jail and all he does is growl louder!"
Ted turned and snapped his fingers.
"Come on, Tammie. Come on up here and join your family."
JIM KJELGAARD
was born in New York City. Happily enough, he was still in the pre-school age when his father decided to move the family to the Pennsylvania mountains. There young Jim grew up among some of the best hunting and fishing in the United States. He says: "If I had pursued my scholastic duties as diligently as I did deer, trout, grouse, squirrels, etc., I might have had better report cards!"
Jim Kjelgaard has worked at various jobs--trapper, teamster, guide, surveyor, factory worker and laborer. When he was in the late twenties he decided to become a full-time writer. He has succeeded in his wish.
He has published several hundred short stories and articles and quite a few books for young people.
His hobbies are hunting, fishing, dogs, and questing for new stories. He tells us: "Story hunts have led me from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Arctic Circle to Mexico City. Stories, like gold, are where you find them. You may discover one three thousand miles from home or, as in _The Spell of the White Sturgeon_, right on your own doorstep." And he adds: "I am married to a very beautiful girl and have a teen-age daughter. Both of them order me around in a shameful fashion, but I can still boss the dog! We live in Phoenix, Arizona."