Rusty sniffed at them and looked about,
disappointed, then howled.
I looked from the armor to Kennedy, in blank amazement.
"Elaine was kidnapped--in the armor," he cried.
. . . . . . . .
He was right. Meanwhile, the armor repairers had stopped at last
at this apparently deserted house, a strange sort of repair shop.
Still keeping it wrapped in blankets, they had taken the armor out
of the wagon and now laid it down on an old broken bed. Then they
had unwrapped it and taken off the helmet.
There was Elaine!
She had been stupefied, bound and gagged. Piece after piece of the
armor they removed, finding her still only half conscious.
"Sh! What's that?" cautioned one of the men. They paused and
listened. Sure enough, there was a sound outside. They opened the
window cautiously. A dog was scratching on the door, endeavoring
to get in. It was Rusty.
"I think it's her dog," said the man, turning. "We'd better let
him in. Someone might see him."
The other nodded and a moment later the door opened and in ran
Rusty. Straight to Elaine he went, starting to lick her hand.
"Right--her dog," exclaimed the other man, drawing a gun and
hastily levelling it at Rusty.
"Don't!" cautioned the first. "It would make too much noise. You'd
better choke him!"
The fellow grabbed for Rusty.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134