tormenting.

No, the big wolf was leaping high into the air from the side, evidently
trying to reach something that was fastened to the pony's back--for now
Ted was able to distinguish what it was.

It was a bay pony, rather small, and almost all in with fatigue.

Something baggy was tied to its back, which resembled a bundle of old
clothes.

Once, as he watched, Ted saw the pony go to its knees, actually tired
out and weak.

But it was up again, and struggling bravely on again.

"Plucky little beggar," muttered Ted, in admiration. "Wish I had taken
my first hunch and ridden out to help it. By Jove, it's not too late
yet!"

Without going into the house Ted jumped to the ground and ran out to
meet the pony and its enemies.

It did not occur to him that he was not armed until he was halfway to
them. Then he felt in his pocket and found his big-bladed knife.

Taking this out, he sprang open the big blade and carried it loosely.

He had stooped and picked up a large stone, which he carried in his
hand.

When he came close enough he hurled the stone at the wolves, and a dull
thud, followed by a shrill, dog-like howl of pain, told him that he had
countered on the rib plate of one of the nasty brutes. Then he let out a
wild yell, and three of the wolves turned and fled.

Not so the king of the pack.

He stopped for a moment and stared at Ted with his pale-green eyes.
Then, with a long howl of defiance, he sprang again at the pony, which
had picked up courage at hearing a human voice and was coming on more
briskly.

Suddenly Ted recognized the pony.

It was the major's Christmas gift, and Ted once more gave voice to an
exultant yell, which only served to increase the fury of the wolf's
attack at whatever was fastened to the pony's back.

Ted knew that Fred Caruthers, as he tried always to call the young
brother of the major, would send the pony back some day, and now his
faith had been rewarded.

When he became aware of the identity of the pony he ran faster, and was
soon within a few feet of it.

He naturally expected that the wolf would now beat a retreat, as wolves
met singly and in this fashion generally turn tail and split the wind
for home when attacked by man.

But the big wolf simply turned his attention from the pony to the boy,
and stood as if carved out of gray granite, his head held high in the
air, and his eyes blazing like two pale-green lights.

"By Jove, I think the brute is going to s