ture is a fair allowance for each inch of a Wolf's foot; this
Wolf therefore stood thirty-three inches at the shoulder and weighed
about one hundred and forty pounds, by far the largest Wolf he had ever
met. King had lived in Goat country, and now in Goat language he
exclaimed: "You bet, ain't that an old Billy?" Thus by trivial chance
it was that Duskymane was known to his foe, as 'Badlands Billy.'

Ryder was familiar with the muster-call of the Wolves, the long, smooth
cry, but Billy's had a singular feature, a slurring that was always
distinctive. Ryder had heard this before, in the Cottonwood Canyon, and
when at length he got a sight of the big Wolf with the black mane, it
struck him that this was also the Cub of the old Yellow fury that he
had trapped.

These were among the things he told me as we sat by the fire at night.
I knew of the early days when any one could trap or poison Wolves, of
the passing of those days, with the passing of the simple Wolves; of
the new race of Wolves with new cunning that were defying the methods
of the ranchmen, and increasing steadily in numbers. Now the wolver
told me of the various ventures that Penroof had made with different
kinds of Hounds; of Foxhounds too thin-skinned to fight; of Greyhounds
that were useless when the animal was out of sight; of Danes too heavy
for the rough country, and, last, of the composite pack with some of
all kinds, including at times a Bull-terrier to lead them in the final
fight.

He told of hunts after Coyotes, which usually were successful because
the Coyotes sought the plains, and were easily caught by the
Greyhounds. He told of killing some small Gray-wolves with this very
pack, usually at the cost of the one that led them; but above all he
dwelt on the wonderful prowess of "that thar cussed old Black Wolf of
Sentinel Butte," and related the many attempts to run him down or
corner him--an unbroken array of failures. For the big Wolf, with
exasperating persistence, continued to live on the finest stock of the
Penroof brand, and each year was teaching more Wolves how to do the
same with perfect impunity.

I listened even as gold-hunters listen to stories of treasure trove,
for these were the things of my world. These things indeed were
uppermost in all our minds, for the Penroof pack was lying around our
camp-fire now. We were out after Badlands Billy.

VIII

THE VOICE IN THE NIGHT AND THE BIG TRACK IN THE MORNING

One night late in Sep