He had lived here a long time, and more than one hunter had listened to the voices of his hounds bawling on his trail.
Rainie said, “He’s chicken-livered, that’s what it is.” I didn’t like that but, not wanting to argue, I didn’t say anything.
Rubin said, “I’ll go up and run him out.” “I won’t let my dogs kill him,” I said.
Rubin glared at me. “I’m going up and run that coon out,” he said.
“If you stop your dogs, I’m going to beat you half to death.”
“Do it anyway, Rubin,” Rainie said. “I’ve a good mind to,” said Rubin.
Just as Rubin started to climb the tree, Old Dan growled.
He was staring into the darkness. Something was coming. “What’s that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Rubin said. “Don’t sound like anything I ever heard.”
“It’s ghosts,” Rainie said. “Let’s get away from here.”
An animal was coming out of the darkness. It was walking slowly in an odd way, as if it were walking sideways.
The hair on the back of my neck stood straight out.
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