ening eyes,
instinctively aware of impending miracle. Ben's eyes met those of the
wolf, commanding and unafraid.

"Down, Fenris," Ben said again. "Down!"

Then slowly, steadily, Ben moved toward him. Watching unbelieving,
Morris saw the fierce eyes begin to lose their fire. The stiff hair on
the shoulders fell into place, tense muscle relaxed. He saw in wonder
that the animal was trembling all over.

Ben stood beside him now, his hand reaching. "Down, down," he cautioned
quietly. Suddenly the wolf crouched, cowering, at his feet.

X

Ben straightened to find himself under a wondering scrutiny by both
Morris and the girl. "Good Lord, Darby!" the former exclaimed. "How did
you do it--"

Now that the suspense was over, Ben himself stood smiling, quite at
ease. "Can't say just how. I just felt that I could--I've always been
able to handle animals. He's tame, anyway."

"Tame, is he? You ought to have had to care for him the last few weeks,
and you'd think tame. Not once have I dared go in reach of his rope. And
there he is, crouched at your feet! I was always dreading he'd get
away--" Morris paused, evidently remembering the girl. "Beatrice, are
you hurt?"

The girl moved toward them. "No. He didn't touch me. But you came just
in time--" The girl's voice wavered; and Ben stepped to her side. "I'm
all right now--"

"But you'd better sit down," Ben advised quietly. "It was enough to
scare any one to death--"

"Any one--but you--" the girl replied, her voice still unsteady. But she
paused when she saw the warm color spread over Ben's rugged, brown face.
And his embarrassment was real. Naturally shy and unassuming, such
effusive praise as this always disturbed him--just as it would have
embarrassed any really masculine man alive. Women, more extravagant in
speech and loving flattery with a higher ardor, would have found it hard
to believe how really distressed he was; but Morris, an outdoor man to
the core, understood completely. Besides, Ben knew that the praise was
not deserved. Excessive bravery had played no part in the scene of a
moment before. He had been brave just as far as Morris was brave,
leaping freely in response to a call for help: the same degree of
bravery that can be counted on in most men, over the face of the earth.
Bravery does not lie alone in facing danger: there must also be the
consciousness of danger, the conquest of fear. In this case Ben had felt
no fear. He knew with a sure, true k