e careful and don't hit Jack!"

"Don't fire!" gasped Randy. "You'll hit Jack sure!" and then, as well as
he was able, he sprang to the front, using his gun as a club as he did
so. Around came the stock with a wide swing, and the wolf received a
blow in the side that bowled him over and over.

This second attack, coming after he had been wounded in the foreleg, was
too much for the animal, and with a yelp of sudden fear he went limping
and leaping through the snow, sending the loose particles flying all
about him. One of the boys discharged his gun after the beast, but
whether he hit the animal or not he could not tell. In another moment
the wolf was out of sight.

"Do you think any of them will come back?" panted Andy, who was quite
out of breath with excitement.

"I don't think so," answered Jack. "However, let us reload just as
quickly as we can and be ready for them." He had been taught the
all-important lesson that a hunter should not let his firearm remain
empty.

"Well, anyhow, I got one of them!" cried Fred, with proper pride, as he
surveyed the beast he had laid low. The discharge of shot had almost
torn the wolf's throat asunder.

"What will you do with him?" questioned Randy.

"I'm going to take him back to the cabin and ask Uncle Barney about it,"
was Fred's reply. "Perhaps we can have the wolf stuffed."

The excitement of the encounter with the wolves had taken away the boys'
desire to do any more hunting that day, and, strapping the dead wolf
fast to a tree limb, they started on the return to the northern end of
the island, each doing his share in carrying the dead animal.

"What's that? A wolf?" cried Barney Stevenson, when he saw what they had
brought. And then he added quickly. "Must be the one that we located in
the cabin at the other end of the island."

"We can't say about that," answered Jack, and then all of the boys told
the story of the encounter in the woods.

"Four of them! Why, I haven't heard of any such thing as that around
here for years! I'll have to go after some of those wolves myself."

"I was wondering what we could do with this wolf," said Fred. "Do you
think I could send him home to have him stuffed?"

"You could, my boy. But I wouldn't advise it. Who would want a stuffed
wolf around anyhow? Of course, you might put him in some club-house or
furrier's window--or something like that."

"Oh, I guess I won't bother," answered Fred.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," sugges