ing nervously.

"I did not mean to," replied the Pack Leader; "my foot slipped on
a wet leaf."

"Ye-e-s--just so," hesitated A'tim in deprecating voice; "so
fortunate--I mean--Brothers, I'm sorry I can't offer you good
eating--there were only three Grubs----"

"Oh, don't mention it!" exclaimed the Wolf; "no doubt we shall
find something for dinner presently--don't you think so,
children?" he asked, turning to the others.

"I was going to say," recommenced the Outcast, "that I could not
ask you to eat just here, but I was actually on my way to invite
you to a big feeding."

The Timber Wolf bared his fangs in a grin of derisive unbelief.
His comrades blinked at one another solemnly. "Was there ever
such a liar?"

A'tim coughed nervously and continued his politic address. "I
heard your powerful bay, Pack Leader, hours ago, as I was
attending to a little trailing matter I had on hand, and resolved
to invite you to the Kill when I had located the trailed one."

[Illustration: "OH, DON'T MENTION IT!" EXCLAIMED THE WOLF; "NO
DOUBT WE SHALL FIND SOMETHING FOR DINNER PRESENTLY."]

"That's good news," answered the Wolf, "for we are wondrous
hungry," and he edged closer to the Outcast.

A'tim shrank into a very small parcel on the log. "I, too,
have been sick for the need of food. I have starved, actually
starved, for a moon; why, I am nothing but skin and bone; the
smallest creature, even a weasel, would find it difficult to
fill his stomach from my lean ribs. Besides, I have eaten off a
plague-stricken Rabbit but a day since, and my blood is on
fire--though there's not much of it, to be sure. I'm filled with
the accursed plague poison--I believe there's enough of it in my
poor, thin body to bring to their death a whole Wolf Pack."

"That's serious!" exclaimed the Gray Wolf; "but you'd die anyway,
so it doesn't matter--I mean, never mind about that just now.
Gh-u-r-r-h! what of this great kill?"

"Well, Brother Wolves----"

"Brother _Wolves_?" questioned the other with a sneer-tinge in
his gruff voice; "thou art overthick in the shoulder for a Wolf."

"I never saw ears like yours on a Wolf, Newcomer," said one of
the youngsters; "they are short and round like those of the
Huskie Dog we ate. Is not that so?" he asked, turning to the
Leader.

"Yes, indeed; we ate him, I'm ashamed to say--for Dog meat is
horrible--but what is one to do when there's naught else in the
Boundaries?"

A'tim shuddered; their mercil