Think not that an iota of all these terrors missed her mind.

No, she felt the fangs buried in her throat and heard the snarl of the beast stifled with blood.

Yet--she laid her hand on the bandage across the shoulder of Black Bart.
His head whirled.

With those ears flattened, with that long, lean neck, it was like the head of a striking snake.

Her sleeve was rolled up to the elbow, and over the bare skin the teeth of the wolf-dog were set.
The snarl had grown so deep and hideous that the tremor of it fairly shook her, and she saw that the jaws of the beast slavered with hunger.
She knew--a thousand things about Black Bart, and among the rest that he had tasted human blood.