t--a low hill, crested with
yucca, sagebrush, and octilla--and he saw the desert weeds move,
observed a dark form slink out from them and stand for an instant on
the skyline. Wolf or coyote, it was too far for him to be certain, but
he watched it with a sneer until it slunk down into the tangle of sage,
out of his sight.

He presently forgot the slinking figure; his thoughts returned to
Betty. He did not like her, she irritated him. For a woman she was
too assertive, too belligerent by half. Though considering her now, he
was reluctantly compelled to admit that she was a forceful figure, and,
reviewing the conversation he had had with her a few minutes before,
the picture she had made standing in the doorway defying him, mocking
him, rebuking him, he could not repress a thrill of grudging admiration.

For half an hour he stood at the corral fence. He rolled and smoked
three cigarettes, his thoughts wrapped in memories of the past and
revolving the problem of his future. Once Betty stood in the kitchen
door for fully a minute, watching him speculatively, and twice old
Malcolm passed him on the way to do some chore, eyeing him curiously.
Calumet did not see either of them.

Nor did he observe that the slinking form which he had observed moving
among the weeds on the distant hill in the valley had approached to
within twenty yards of him, was crouching in a corner of the corral
fence, watching him with blazing, blood-shot eyes, its dull gray hair
bristling, its white fangs bared in a snarl.

It had been a long stalk, and the beast's jaws were slavering from
exertion. It watched, crouching and panting, for a favorable moment to
make the attack which it meditated.

It had seen Calumet from the hill and had dropped down to the level,
keeping out of sight behind the sagebrush and the clumps of mesquite,
crossing the open places on its belly, stealing upon him silently and
cunningly. So cautious had been its approach that old Malcolm had not
seen it when fifteen minutes before he had passed Calumet and had
paused for a look at him. The beast had been in a far corner of the
fence then, and had slunk close to the ground until Malcolm had passed.
Nor had Malcolm seen it just a moment before when he had crossed the
ranchhouse yard behind Calumet to go to the bunkhouse, where he was
now. The instant Malcolm had disappeared within the bunkhouse, the
beast had stolen to its present position.

The attack was swift and