itled to one guess."

"Unless they got enough to sicken them last night," answered Dell with
emphasis, "nothing short of range count will satisfy me."

A night of conjecture brought a morning with results. Breakfast was
forgotten, saddles were dispensed with, while the horses, as they
covered the mile at a gallop, seemed to catch the frenzy of expectation.
Dell led the way, ignoring all counsel, until Dog-toe, on rounding a
curve, shied at a dead wolf in the trail, almost unhorsing his rider.

"There's one!" shouted Dell, as he regained his poise. "I'll point them
out and you count. There's another! There's two more!"

It was a ghastly revel. Like sheaves in a harvest field, dead wolves lay
around every open water. Some barely turned from the creek and fell,
others struggled for a moment, while a few blindly wandered away for
short distances. The poison had worked to a nicety; when the victims
were collected, by actual count they numbered twenty-eight. It was a
victory to justify shouting, but the gruesome sight awed the brothers
into silence. Hunger had driven the enemy to their own death, and the
triumph of the moment at least touched one sensitive heart.

"This is more than we bargained for," remarked Joel in a subdued voice,
after surveying the ravages of poison.

"Our task is to hold these cattle," replied Dell. "We're soldiering this
winter, and our one duty is to hold the fort. What would Mr. Paul say if
we let the wolves kill our cattle?"

After breakfast Joel again led the herd south for the day, leaving Dell
at the corral. An examination of the basins was made, revealing the fact
that every trace of the poisoned suet had been licked out of the
holders. Of a necessity, no truce with the wolf became the slogan of the
present campaign. No mushy sentiment was admissible--the fighting was
not over, and the powder must be kept dry. The troughs were accordingly
sledded into the corral, where any taint from the cattle would further
disarm suspicion, and left for future use.

The taking of so many pelts looked like an impossible task for a boy.
But Dell recalled, among the many experiences with which Forrest, when a
cripple, regaled his nurses, was the skinning of winter-killed cattle
with a team. The same principle applied in pelting a wolf, where by very
little aid of a knife, about the head and legs, a horse could do the
work of a dozen men. The corral fence afforded the ready snubbing-post,
Dog-toe could pu