an's head was bowed upon
his breast, and his skeleton arms, parchment-skinned and rigid, were
crossed upon his knees.

Sundown scrambled for the circle of daylight above him. "Gee Gosh!" he
panted, as he got to his feet outside the cave. "It was him!" He
clambered over the circle of stones and backed away, eyeing the
entrance as though he expected to see the Hopi emerge at any moment.
He crouched behind a boulder, his pulses racing. He was keyed to a
high tension of expectancy. In fact, he was in a decidedly receptive
mood for that which immediately happened. He noticed that his horse, a
hundred yards or so up the valley, was circling the cedar and pulling
back on the reins. He wondered what was the matter with him. The
horse was usually a well-behaved animal. The explanation came rapidly.
Sundown saw the horse back and tear loose from the cedar; saw him whirl
and charge down the valley snorting. "Guess he seen one, too!" said
Sundown making no effort to check the frightened animal. Almost
immediately came the long-drawn bell of a dog following a hot scent.
Sundown turned from watching his vanishing steed and saw a huge
timber-wolf leap from a thicket. Behind the wolf came Chance, neck
outstretched, and flanks working at top speed. The wolf dodged a
boulder, flashing around it with no apparent loss of ground. Chance
rose over the boulder as though borne on the wind. The wolf turned and
snapped at him. Sundown decided instantly that the sepulcher of the
dead Hopi was preferable to the proximity of the live wolf, and he made
for the cave.

The wolf circled the wall of stones and also made for the cave.
Sundown had arrived a little ahead of him. The top of Sundown's head
appeared for an instant; then vanished. The wolf backed snarling
against the wall as Chance leaped in. When Sundown's head again
appeared, the whirling mass of writhing fur and kicking legs had taken
more definite shape. Chance had fastened on the wolf's shoulder. The
wolf was slashing effectively at the dog's side. Presently they lay
down facing each other. Chance licked a long gash in his foreleg. The
wolf snapped as he lay and a red slaver dripped from his fangs. Not
twelve feet away, Sundown gazed upon the scene with fear-wide eyes.
"Go to it, Chance!" he quavered, and his encouragement was all but the
dog's undoing, for he lost the wolf's gaze for an instant, barely
turning in time to meet the vicious charge. Sundown groane