ady now!"

Ted dashed forward, swinging his rope around his head, and when he was
close enough he made a beautiful cast and the rope went through the air
as true as a bullet, hovering in a sinuous loop above White Fang. But
just as it was about to settle the wily old rascal dodged to one side,
and the rope fell into the sand.

"He's a cute chap," shouted Ted, bringing in his rope without slackening
his speed, while Bud's rope flew through the air and missed the wolf by
about a foot.

Stella was in a bad position to throw, and withheld her rope.

Again they closed in upon the wolf, who had begun to grow more wary and
had hit up his speed, dodging and turning on his trail, making some
swift turns and nimble feats of horsemanship necessary to keep within
roping distance of him.

In this manner a dozen or more unsuccessful casts were made.

At last Ted got tired of the hide-and-seek game, and determined to end
it.

"I'm going to get him this time," he shouted, gathering his rope firmly.
"Back me up!"

He dashed at White Fang, with Bud and Stella on either side of him.
Swinging his rope about his head, Ted watched his opportunity.

Suddenly the loop left his hand and shot as unerringly toward the wolf
as if it had left the muzzle of a rifle.

It soared through the air like a thing of life, twisting as gracefully
and sinuously as a serpent. For an instant the wide loop hovered over
the gray, swiftly running animal. Then it fell suddenly, and settled
over and around the seemingly doomed animal.

But White Fang, king of the pack, was too old a villain to be caught so
easily. He leaped through the loop of Ted's lariat like a circus
performer through a hoop.

But Stella's rope whizzed through the air and caught the old fellow
unawares.

Then it seemed as if all the forces of wild nature had been turned
loose.

The wolf leaped into the air as he felt the rope tighten around his
neck, and threw himself here and there with a violence inconceivable,
snapping at the rope and trying to sever it. But Stella's lariat was of
Mexican rawhide, and even White Fang's sharp teeth had no effect on it.

The rope tightened and slacked in the struggle, and, had it been of
ordinary texture, it would never have stood the strain.

Ted had ridden up to the plunging beast, and began to belabor it with
his quirt, to take the spirit out of it. The wolf had never felt the
sting of a whip before. It was such a new experience to it that