re close at the colt's heels.
Lizette, fleet as the wind, could not shake them off. Closer and ever
closer they came, snapping and snarling. Ranald could see them over his
shoulder. A hundred yards more and he would reach his own back lane. The
leader of the pack seemed to feel that his chances were slipping swiftly
away. With a spurt he gained upon Lizette, reached the saddle-girths,
gathered himself into two short jumps, and sprang for the colt's throat.
Instinctively Ranald stood up in his stirrups, and kicking his foot
free, caught the wolf under the jaw. The brute fell with a howl under
the colt's feet, and next moment they were in the lane and safe.

The savage brutes, discouraged by their leader's fall, slowed down their
fierce pursuit, and hearing the deep bay of the Macdonalds' great
deer-hound, Bugle, up at the house, they paused, sniffed the air a few
minutes, then turned and swiftly and silently slid into the dark
shadows. Ranald, knowing that they would hardly dare enter the lane,
checked the colt, and wheeling, watched them disappear.

"I'll have some of your hides some day," he cried, shaking his fist
after them. He hated to be made to run.

He had hardly set the colt's face homeward when he heard something
tearing down the lane to meet him. The colt snorted, swerved, and then
dropping his ears, stood still. It was Bugle, and after him came Mrs.
Murray on the pony.

"Oh, Ranald!" she panted, "thank God you are safe. I was afraid
you--you--" Her voice broke in sobs. Her hood had fallen back from her
white face, and her eyes were shining like two stars. She laid her hand
on Ranald's arm, and her voice grew steady as she said: "Thank God, my
boy, and thank you with all my heart. You risked your life for mine. You
are a brave fellow! I can never forget this!"

"Oh, pshaw!" said Ranald, awkwardly. "You are better stuff than I am.
You came back with Bugle. And I knew Liz could beat the pony." Then they
walked their horses quietly to the stable, and nothing more was said by
either of them; but from that hour Ranald had a friend ready to offer
life for him, though he did not know it then nor till years afterward.

RALPH CONNOR: "The Man from Glengarry."

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his
friends.

ST. JOHN, XV. 13

IAGOO, THE BOASTER

And Iagoo, the great boaster,
He the marvellous story-teller,
He the friend of old Nokomis,
Saw