narrow that if any of the wolves appeared before
her she would be lost, for there was not room to manoeuvre as on the
larger stream.

But she met none. The first signals had drawn them to the river, and
if there were any near, they and she were mutually unaware of it.

As her brother had said, she was more acquainted with this section
than he. She knew at what points the river and its tributary curved so
as to bring them near each other. Reaching that place, she buried the
heels of her skate-runners in the ice, sending the particles about
her in a misty shower, and quickly came to a halt. Then, standing
motionless, she listened.

In the distance sounded the howling of the animals so repeatedly
disappointed of their prey, but none was nigh enough to cause her
misgiving.

"I hope no harm has come to Fred or Monteith," she murmured. "Both can
skate fast enough to leave the wolves behind; they would have done so
at once if they had not been bothered by having me with them. Now they
ought to be able to take care of themselves."

She sat down on the bank and removed her skates. The slight layer of
snow on the leaves caused no inconvenience, for she was well shod, and
the walk was not far. Her fear was that some of the wolves might sneak
up unseen. Often she stopped and listened, but when half the distance
was passed, without any alarm from that source, she believed nothing
was to be feared. A little farther and she reached the main stream,
the distance passed being so much less than was necessary for her
escorts that she knew that she was in advance of them, even if they
had continued their flight without interruption.

Her club skates were securely refastened, and then she listened again.

The cries of the brutes were few and distant and could not cause
alarm.

Hark! A familiar sound reached her. She recognized it as made by
skates gliding over the ice. Rising to her feet, she remarked, with a
smile:

"I think I will give them a surprise." And she did. The meeting was a
happy one, and before the stroke of midnight all three were at home,
where they found the mother anxiously awaiting their return and
greatly relieved to learn that despite their stirring experience no
harm had befallen any member of the little party.

CHAPTER IV.

THE REPORT OF GUNS.

And now comes a change of scene and incident.

Hugh Whitney returned to his Maine home a few weeks after the stirring
adventures of his children and M