she said
softly, "Wolf!"

The creature sprang to its feet at the sound of her voice, and moved off a
few paces, and then turned and looked over its shoulder at Anne.

"Wolf!" Anne repeated, brushing her hair from her eyes and pulling her
sunbonnet over her head. Then she reached out for the plum basket, and
stood up. Still the animal had not moved.

"I do believe it is tame," thought Anne, and she made a step toward her
visitor, but the gray wolf no longer hesitated, and with a bound it was
off on a run across the marsh, and soon disappeared behind a clump of
bushes.

"I wish it had stayed," Anne said aloud, for there had been nothing to
make her afraid of wild creatures, and Jimmie's stories of a big wolf
ranging about the outskirts of the settlement had not suggested to her
that a wolf was anything which would do her harm, and she continued her
search for beach-plums, her mind filled with the thought of many pleasant
things.

"I do think, Mistress Stoddard, that I have plums enough for a pie," she
exclaimed, as she reached the kitchen door and held up her basket for
Mistress Stoddard's inspection.

"'Twill take a good measure of molasses, I fear," declared Mrs. Stoddard,
"but you shall have the pie, dear child. 'Twill please Captain Enos
mightily to have a pie for his supper when he gets in from the fishing;
and I'll tell him 'twas Anne who gathered the plums," and she nodded
smilingly at the little girl.

"And what think you has happened at the spring this morning?" she went on,
taking the basket from Anne, who followed her into the neat little
kitchen. "Jimmie Starkweather and his father near captured a big gray
wolf. The creature walked up to the spring to drink as meek as a calf, and
Mr. Starkweather ran for his axe to kill it, but 'twas off in a second."

"But why should he kill it?" exclaimed Anne. "I'm sure 'Tis a good wolf.
'twas no harm for it to drink from the spring."

"But a wolf is a dangerous beast," replied Mrs. Stoddard; "the men-folk
will take some way to capture it."

Anne felt the tears very near her eyes. To her, the gray wolf had not
seemed dangerous. It had looked kindly upon her, and she had already
resolved that if it ever were possible she would like to stroke its soft
fur.

"Couldn't the wolf be tamed?" she questioned. "I went to sleep near the
marsh this morning and dreamed that Jimmie Starkweather had a tame wolf."
But for some reason, which Anne herself could not have explain