lf put his foot into
another, a powerful bear-trap, which a cunning old trapper had hidden
near by, without bait. The trap was secured to a tree by a stout
chain--and rage, strain, tear as he might, the Gray Master found
himself snared. In his silent fury he would probably have gnawed off
the captive foot, for the sake of freedom. But before he came to that,
Kane arrived and occupied his attention fully.

Kane's disappointment, at finding the splendid prize in another trap
than his own, was but momentary. He knew his successful rival would
readily part with his claims, for due consideration. But he was
puzzled as to what should be done in the immediate emergency. He
wanted to go back home for help, for ropes, straps, and a muzzle with
which he had provided himself; but he was afraid lest, in his absence,
the trapper might arrive and shoot the captive, for the sake of the
pelt and the bounty. In his uncertainty he waited, hoping that the
trapper might come soon; and by way of practice for the serious
enterprise that would come later, as well as to direct the prisoner's
mind a little from his painful predicament, Kane began trying to lasso
him with a coil of heavy cord which he carried.

His efforts in this direction were not altogether successful, but the
still fury which they aroused in the great wolf's breast doubtless
obscured the mordant anguish in his foot. One terrific leap at his
enemy, resulting in an ignominious overthrow as the chain stopped him
in mid-air, had convinced the subtle beast of the vanity of such
tactics. Crouching back, he eyed his adversary in silence, with eyes
whose hatred seemed to excoriate. But whenever the running noose at
the end of the cord came coiling swiftly at his head, with one
lightning snap of his long teeth he would sever it as with a knife. By
the time Kane had grown tired of this diversion the cord was so full
of knots that no noose would any longer run.

But at this point the old trapper came slouching up on his snowshoes,
a twinkle of elation in his shrewd, frosty, blue eyes.

"I reckon we'll show the varmint now as how he ain't no _loup-garou_!"
he remarked, lightly swinging his axe.

But Kane hastily intervened.

"_Please_ don't kill him, Dave!" he begged. "_I_ want him, bad!
What'll you take for him?"

"Just as he stands?" demanded the old trapper, with a chuckle. "I
ain't a-goin' to deliver the goods to yer door, ye know!"

"No," laughed Kane, "just as he stands,