alone through the
woods. Fellow, I don't wish your further service."

"Look there now!" said Adair; "where were you born, that you are so
mighty nice upon account of a blood-sucking wolf? Man, it's impossible
to find your way through this country; and you might, by taking a wrong
road, fall in with them that would think nothing of serving you as I
serve this beast."

"Wat, curse your onnatural heart," interposed the sergeant. "Stob her at
once. It's no use, Mr. Butler," he said, finding that Adair did not heed
him, "we can't help ourselves. It's wolf agin wolf."

"I knowed you couldn't, Horse Shoe," cried Wat, with another laugh. "So
you may as well stay to see it out."

Butler had now walked to his horse, mounted, and retired some distance
into the wood to avoid further converse with the tormentor of the
ensnared beast, and to withdraw himself from a sight so revolting to his
feelings. In the meantime, Adair proceeded with his operation with an
alacrity that showed the innate cruelty of his temper. He made a cross
incision through the skin, from the point of one shoulder to the other,
the devoted subject of his torture remaining, all the time, motionless
and silent. Having thus severed the skin to suit his purpose, the
woodman now, with an affectation of the most dainty precision,
flourished his knife over the animal's back, and then burst into a loud
laugh.

"I can't help laughing," he exclaimed, "to think what a fine, dangling,
holiday coat I am going to make of it. I shall strip her as low as the
ribs, and then the flaps will hang handsomely. She will be considered a
beauty in the sheep-folds, and then she may borrow a coat, you see, from
some lamb; a wolf in sheep's clothing is no uncommon sight in this
world."

"Wat Adair," said Horse Shoe, angrily, "I've a mind to take the wolf's
part and give you a trouncing. You are the savagest wolf in sheep's
clothing yourself that it was ever my luck to see."

"You think so, Horse Shoe!" cried Wat, tauntingly. "You might chance to
miss your way to-day, so don't make a fool of yourself! Ill will would
only take away from you a finger-post--and it isn't every road through
this district that goes free of the Tory rangers."

"Your own day will come yet," replied Horse Shoe, afraid to provoke the
woodman too far on account of the dependence of himself and his
companion upon Adair's information in regard to the route of their
journey. "We have to give and take quarter in