He ran with his nose close to the ground, the hair on his back standing straight up like the quills on a porcupine, and his whole appearance indicating great rage and excitement.
"Hi! hi!" yelled Frank.

"Take hold of him, you rascal! Now's your time, Arthur.

Ride up and give him the contents of your double-barrel; only, be careful, and don't shoot the dogs." For an instant, it seemed as if Arthur's courage had returned, and that he was about to yield to the entreaties of his companions.

He straightened up in his saddle, and, assuming what he, no doubt, imagined to be a very determined look, was on the point of urging his horse forward, when suddenly there arose from the woods a chorus of yells, and snarls, and growls, that made the cold chills creep all over him, and caused him to forget every thing in the desire to put a safe distance between himself and the terrible animal in the bushes.

Acting on the impulse of the moment, he wheeled his horse, and, before Frank or Archie could utter a word, he shot by them, and disappeared down the path.
For a moment, the two boys, forgetting that a furious battle was going on a little way from them, gazed at each other in blank amazement.