Watson grew weak. He tried once more. They spun to their feet. But
before he could act the Senestro had caught him in the same flying rush
as in the beginning, and had whirled him off his feet. And when he came
down the Bar had an unbreakable hold.
Chick struggled in vain. The Bar tightened his grip. A spasm of pain
shot through Chick's torso; he could feel his bones giving way. His
strength was gone; he could see death. Another moment would have been
the end.
But something happened. The Senestro miraculously let go his hold. Chick
felt something soft brush against his cheek. He heard a queer snapping,
and shouts of wonder, and a dreadful choking sound from the Bar. He
raised dizzily on one arm. His eyes cleared a bit.
The great Bar was on his back; and at his throat was a snarling
thing--the creature that Chick had seen in the clover leaf of the
Jarados.
It was a living dog.