But this time his back was to the watchful semicircle of dogs, and with a sharp, piercing command he pitched back among them, dragging Philip with him.

Too late Philip realized what the cry meant.

He tried to fling himself out of reach of the threatening fangs, and freed one hand to reach for his pistol.

This saved him from the dogs, but gave the half-breed his opportunity.

Again he was on his feet, the butt of his dog whip in his hand.