Now it was standing near him, and he could
feel the warmth of its reeking breath blowing on his face. Lower
drooped its head, and its front feet, which he recognized as hands,
were placed upon his neck. Then a faint and distant voice reached him,
and he knew that this man-wolf was speaking. "So you'd marry her," it
said. "You! But we'll take no chances--no chances. I could tear your
throat out, but I won't; no, I won't do that. A little blood--just a
little." And then the dreaming man felt the fingers moving about his
throat. They felt cold and clammy, and the night air chilled him.

Then came a change, one of those fantastic changes which dreamland
loves, and which drives the dreamer, even in his sleeping thought,
nearly distracted. The dark vista of the prairie suddenly lit. A great
light shone over all, and the dreaming man could see nothing but the
light--that, and the wolf-man. The ghoulish creature stood its ground.
The fingers were still at his throat, but now they moved uncertainly,
groping. There was no longer the deliberate movement of set purpose.
It was as though the light had blinded the cruel scavenger, that its
purpose was foiled through its power of vision being suddenly
destroyed. It was a breathless moment in the dream.

But the tension quickly relaxed. The hands were drawn abruptly away.
The wolf-man stood erect again, and the dreamer heard it addressing
the light. The words were gentle, in contrast with the manner in which
it had spoken to him, and the softness of its tones held him
fascinated.

"He's better, eh? Coming round," he said. And somehow the dreamer
thought that he laughed, and the invisible coyotes laughed with him.

A brief silence followed, which was ultimately broken by another
voice. It was a voice from out of the light, and its tones were a gasp
of astonishment and alarm.

"What are you doing here, father?" the voice asked. There was a
strange familiarity in the tones, and the dreamer struggled for
recollection; but before it came to him the voice went on with a wild
exclamation of horror. "Father! The bandage!"

The dreamer wondered; and something drew his attention to the
wolf-man. He saw that the creature was eyeing the light with ferocious
purpose in its expression. It was all so real that he felt a wild
thrill of excitement as he watched for what was to happen. But the
voice out of the light again spoke, and he found himself listening.

"Go!" it said in a tone of command