st have railway crossings pretty thick down
on the Huerfano," Jessie remarked, after a moment's silence. "That
makes three whistles--if they are whistles--that we've heard within
as many minutes."

"That's true, Jessie--I hadn't thought of that. It may not be an
engine. It sounds louder, instead of diminishing as it would if--keep
still, Guard! What in the world is the matter with you!"

For answer, Guard, with every hair on his back erect and standing up
like the quills of a porcupine, got up, and wriggled himself under
the seat on which we were sitting, making his way to the end of the
wagon-box, where he stood with legs braced to keep himself steady, his
chin resting on the edge of the tailboard, and his eyes fixed on the
darkening roadway over which we had just passed. Every now and then
he gave a low, sullen growl, and, even from where we sat, and in the
increasing gloom we could see that his white fangs were bared.

"How strangely Guard acts!" exclaimed Jessie, with a sudden catch in
her voice, and a dawning fear of--she knew not what--in her eyes.
At that instant the sound that I had taken for the far-off, dying
whistle of a locomotive, came again to my ears; nearer, more distinct,
in increasing volume--a weird, melancholy call--a pursuing cry. The
lines were in my hands, and at that instant the horses suddenly sprang
forward, faster, faster, until their pace became a tearing run, and
then some words of my own, spoken weeks before, flashed into my mind,
bringing with them a mental illumination.

"There are wolves!" I had said. I was conscious of an effort to steady
my voice, to keep it from shaking, as I thrust the lines into Jessie's
hands. "Try to keep the horses in the road, Jessie; do not check them.
I am going back there by Guard."

"What for?" Jessie's tones were sharp with apprehension, and again, as
if in explanation, came that pursuing chorus. I sprang over the back
of the seat, and knelt in the bottom of the wagon-box, securing the
rifle and cartridge-belt. Jessie, holding the lines firmly in either
hand, shifted her position to look down on me. Her face gleamed white
in the dusk as she breathed, rather than spoke: "Wolves, Leslie?"

"Yes." I had the gun now and staggered to my feet. "Watch the horses,
Jessie." Jessie nodded.

Ralph, roused by the rapid motion, had awakened. He struggled to a
sitting posture. "What for is us doin' so fas'?" he inquired, with
interest.

Jessie made no reply, bu