A commotion among the wolves drew him to the window. Two of the
beasts were fighting. While his back was turned Celie entered her
room and returned a moment or two later with a handful of loose
bits of paper. The pack held Philip's attention. He wondered what
chance he would have in an encounter with the beasts which Bram
had left behind as a guard. Even if he killed Bram or made him a
prisoner he would still have that horde of murderous brutes to
deal with. If he could in some way induce the wolf-man to bring
his rifle into the cabin the matter would be easy. With Bram out
of the way he could shoot the wolves one by one from the window.
Without a weapon their situation would be hopeless. The pack--with
the exception of one huge, gaunt beast directly under the window--
had swung around the end of the cabin out of his vision. The
remaining wolf in spite of the excitement of battle was gnawing
hungrily at a bone. Philip could hear the savage grind of its
powerful jaws, and all at once the thought of how they might work
out their salvation flashed upon him. They could starve the
wolves! It would take a week, perhaps ten days, but with Bram out
of the way and the pack helplessly imprisoned within the corral it
could be done. His first impulse now was to impress on Celie the
necessity of taking physical action against Bram.

The sound of his own name turned him from the window with a sudden
thrill.

If the last few minutes had inspired an eagerness for action in
his own mind he saw at a glance that something equally exciting
had possessed Celie Armin. Spread out on the table were the bits
of paper she had brought from her room, and, pointing to them, she