bite or two. It's a lot
better to go after a wolf than have the wolf come after you. It takes
more nerve, but it ain't so hard at that."

"But how did you kill the old wolf, Ben?" asked Wilbur.

"I go in, far in. See eyes glitter. Shoot once. Shoot twice. Old wolf
dead. Take out pups, easy. Skin wolf."

"Where's the skin?"

"Dryin'."

But Wilbur was by no means satisfied and he plied the half-witted lad
with questions until he had secured all the details of the story. In the
meantime the Ranger had been getting dinner, and as soon as it was over
Wilbur was glad to lie down on Ben's bed, for he had lost not a little
blood in his tussle with the wild-cat the night before, and riding all
morning with those deep scratches only rudely bandaged had been rather a
strain. By the time that Rifle-Eye was ready to start again Wilbur was
fairly stiffened up, and at the Ranger's suggestion he agreed to stay on
a couple of days in the shack, having Ben cook for him and look after
him, as the Ranger felt that he himself ought to get back to
headquarters.

It was not until the third day that Wilbur once more got into the saddle
and with Ben to guide him through the forest, started for the
Supervisor's headquarters, or rather the Ranger's cabin where the
Supervisor was staying. The two boys rode on and up, leaving behind the
scrub oak, chapparal, and manzanita, and into the great yellow pine and
sugar pine forests. Shortly before noontime they heard voices in the
woods, and Ben, after listening a moment, turned from the trail. In a
few minutes he reined up beside a tall, sunburned man, walking through
the woods pencil and notebook in hand. At the same time the Ranger, who
was working with him, stepped up.

"Thanks, Ben," he said. Then, turning to the Supervisor, he said:
"Merritt, here's the boy!"

Wilbur's new chief stepped forward quickly and held out his hand with a
word of greeting. Wilbur shook it heartily and decided on the spot that
he was going to like him. Wearing khaki with the Forest Service bronze
badge, a Stetson army hat, and the high lace boots customarily seen, he
looked thoroughly equipped for business.

"You're Wilbur Loyle," he said, "of course. I heard you were coming.
Have you had any experience?"

"Just the Colorado Ranger School, sir," said the boy.

"You were to be here three days ago."

"Yes, Mr. Merritt, but I was delayed, and I put up a couple of days with
Ben, here."

"He reckoned he had mor