"That was a bum shot," muttered Dick. "I'm glad Ted or Stella did not
see it. Better luck next time."
The coyote ran a short distance, then stopped and looked over its
shoulder to see if Dick was following, and, seeing that he was, took up
its lope again.
It had got some distance from Dick, when, on the top of another rise,
it stopped again, and Dick heard once more its luring cry.
It seemed to be an invitation to follow him. Dick had not paid any
attention to the direction in which he was going, and had kept no track
of time.
That he was following game, and that he intended to get it if it took
all day, was all he thought of. Soon the coyote stopped again, and
looked at Dick in a tantalizing sort of way, and again Dick approached
it cautiously.
When he thought he was within range, he raised his Remington, and,
taking a long, deliberate aim, fired. Again he missed. But he had the
satisfaction of seeing that the ball had struck the earth several feet
nearer the coyote than the first.
The coyote realized it, too, for he did not wait for another invitation,
but started on his way in a hurry, with Dick riding pell-mell after him.
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