to meditate on the turn affairs had taken.

He was in a thoroughly sour frame of mind. To his way of thinking
everything had gone wrong, and he wondered how matters would terminate.

"I was a fool to come out here, in the first place," he told himself. "I
ought to have known that Baxter had no sure thing of it. If I hadn't
fallen in with the Rovers, I would have frozen and starved to death. And
they don't want me; that's plainly to be seen."

Had he felt able to do so, he would have packed a knapsack with
provisions and started oh his way down the river toward Timber Run. But
he did not know how far the settlement was away, and he was afraid to
trust himself alone in such a wilderness as confronted him on every
hand. He did not possess much money, but he would have given every
dollar to be safe back in the city again.

He wondered if the Rovers would gain possession of the treasure before
the Baxter party came up, and also wondered what would happen should the
two parties come together. He had not been treated very well by Dan
Baxter, and so he hardly cared who came out on top in the struggle for
the treasure.

"Whoever gets it will try to count me out," was the way he reasoned.
"I'm at the bottom of the heap, and likely to stay there for some time
to come."

The time dragged slowly, and to occupy himself he began to cut more wood
for the fire. The task made him grit his teeth.

"Got to work like a common woodchopper," he muttered. "It's a shame!"

He was just dragging the last of the wood up to the fire when a sudden
yelping broke upon his ears. Looking up, he saw a lone wolf standing at
the edge of the timber, gazing fixedly at him.

"A wolf!" he muttered, and his face grew pale. "Scat!" And he waved his
hand threateningly.

The wolf disappeared behind some brush, but did not go far. Sitting
down, it let out the most dismal howls imaginable, which soon brought a
dozen or more other wolves to the scene. Then all of the pack came into
view, much to Jasper Grinder's horror.

"They want to eat me up!" he groaned, and ran for the nearest tree,
which was close to the shelter. "Oh, I must get away, somehow!"

He clutched at the tree and began to climb with all possible-speed. His
gun lay close at hand, but in his haste he forgot to pick it up. Once in
the tree he sat down on a limb, a perfect picture of misery.

Seeing the man retreat the wolves at once became bolder, and keeping a
safe distance from the fire,