Suddenly, something huge and black loomed up right in front of them. This wasn’t the Terror, Frank sensed immediately. It was too big even for that. After a moment, he realized that it was a low bluff, about thirty feet tall.
And set in it, unless he was mistaken, was the round black mouth of a cave.
He closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath. Fate had been kind to him and led him to exactly what he needed: a place to get out of the rain, rest, and spend the night. He urged Stormy forward.
The opening in the bluff was about ten feet tall. Judging by that, the cave might be big enough not only for Frank and Dog, but for Stormy and Goldy as well. Frank hoped that he could find some wood that wasn’t too wet to burn. He really wanted to build a fire and dry out.
They were approaching the cave mouth when Dog suddenly planted his feet and started to growl. The two horses stopped short as well and tossed their heads as if reluctant to go any closer.
“Come on,” Frank urged. He felt light-headed now, and the fog that crept through the trees seemed to have seeped into his brain as well. His thoughts were sluggish. All he wanted was a place to rest, to be warm again, and his friends who were usually so helpful weren’t cooperating this time.
Stormy wouldn’t budge, so Frank dismounted, slipping a little and grabbing the saddle horn to keep from falling. He took hold of the reins and tried to lead the rangy gray stallion into the cave. Stormy’s hooves were planted firmly on the ground, though. He wasn’t budging. Neither was Dog or Goldy.
“All right,” Frank muttered. “Stay out here and get wet then.”
Instantly, he felt bad for saying such a thing. He had never had a better friend than Dog, and Stormy and Goldy were almost at the same level as the big cur. Maybe once they saw him go into the cave, they would follow, he thought. He trudged toward the opening.
The smell that came from it made him wrinkle his nose. Something had crawled up in there and died. Maybe more than one something.
But he wasn’t going to let a little stink keep him from getting out of the rain. He stepped up to the cave mouth, something nagging at the back of his brain as he did so, and reached into his pocket to fish around for the little waterproof container in which he always kept several matches.
He found it as he moved a couple of steps into the cave. The drizzle wasn’t hitting him now. His fingers fumbled to open the container and shake out a match. When he had one, he snapped it to life with his thumbnail.
The match flared up and cast a yellow glow over the interior of the cave. It was rounded, ten or twelve feet high at its tallest, maybe fifteen across and an equal distance deep. Plenty of room for him, Dog, and the two horses, Frank thought. He turned slowly, holding the match higher in his left hand so that the light from it spread all the way to the back of the cave.
That was where he saw what he took at first for a sleeping bear. He stepped back sharply and dropped his right hand to the butt of his gun before he realized what he saw wasn’t a bear, wasn’t even alive. It was just a pile of animal pelts, dozens of them, from the looks of it. They looked like they had been arranged against the wall to form a bed of sorts. He saw a lot of little bones, too, tossed here and there.
Outside, Stormy and Goldy suddenly let out shrill whinnies of fear. Dog began barking and snarling. Reason finally penetrated Frank’s feverish brain, and as he dropped the match and turned, he muttered, “Oh, hell.”
Standing there in the cave entrance, silhouetted against the last of the fading gray light outside, was a huge, shaggy shape. A stench emanated from it, filling the cave and making it hard for Frank to breathe without gagging. It stood there motionless, as if puzzled to find that it had a visitor in its home.
Because that’s what this cave was, Frank realized now.
He had found the lair of the Terror.
Chapter 22
Before Frank could do anything, Dog attacked the Terror from behind, leaping high on the creature’s back and hitting it with such force that even the Terror’s massive bulk was jolted forward a step. Dog’s fangs flashed as he tore at his enemy.
Frank would have commanded the big cur to stay back if he’d had the chance. Dog was no match for the Terror. The thing reached back, dug clawlike fingers into Dog’s pelt, and plucked the big cur off him like a bug. He flung Dog away like a bug, too, sending him crashing into the wall of the cave.
By this time, Frank’s Colt was in his hand, and as he heard Dog’s pained yelp and saw the way he went rolling limply across the ground, it was all Frank could do not to empty the revolver into the Terror.
But he had given his word to Nancy Chamberlain, for one thing, and for another, he wasn’t sure bullets would stop the Terror, or even slow it down. Instead, he shouted as loudly as he could, “Ben! Ben Chamberlain!”
The Terror was in the middle of taking a shuffling step toward him when Frank called out. For some reason, the creature wasn’t moving with the blinding speed that he had demonstrated earlier. He stopped short, let out an incoherent roar of rage. Massive arms like the trunks of small trees lifted and shook.
But the Terror had reacted to Ben Chamberlain’s name. Frank was sure of it. That wasn’t proof that the creature actually
Frank raised his left hand, extended it toward the Terror. “Listen to me,” he said, keeping his voice as calm and steady as possible. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a friend. If you really are Ben Chamberlain, your father sent me —”
Frank realized instantly that he’d made a mistake by mentioning Rutherford Chamberlain. The Terror bellowed again and lurched toward him, swinging those massive arms. Sickened by the smell that washed over him, Frank ducked under the grab and whirled away from the Terror. He lunged toward the cave mouth in an effort to get past the creature.
But one of the Terror’s hands snagged his shirt and jerked him back. Frank flew across the cave and smashed into the wall. Pain exploded through his body. He bounced off and fell to the hard-packed dirt floor. The Terror loomed over him, blotting out most of the fading light, and swung clubbed fists at Frank’s face. Frank rolled aside
