its back came tearing into the cotton woods roaring like a bull,
and then I can tell you there was a stampede among the brutes that
were baiting us." Oily Dave drew a long breath as he finished his
narration, but the other man groaned.

"Katherine, what were you doing so far away from home at this time
of night?" gasped Mrs. Burton, in a shocked tone, as her sister
came into the room. "Why, the wolves might have attacked you."

"Not likely; we had the dogs with us, you see. But we had to go
about three miles along the trail to bring home the things I had to
leave behind when Father had his accident," said Katherine, as she
stood beside the stove slowly unwinding her wraps. Now that the
strain and excitement were over, she looked white and tired, but
her face was set in hard, stern lines, which for the time seemed to
add years to her age.

"It is dreadful that you should have to go out at night like that.
Wouldn't to-morrow have done as well?" asked Mrs. Burton in a tone
of distress.

"No," replied Katherine slowly, as she wrestled with an obstinate
fastening of her coat, keeping her gaze carefully on the ground the
while. "We were almost too late as it was. A wolf had found out
the cache and was beginning to tear the packages to pieces, in
spite of my care in turning the hand sledge upside down on the top
of them."

Oily Dave rose to his feet with a jerky movement. "I think we had
best be moving now," he said gruffly. "Perhaps you'd lend us a