A wolf, a single one, was not all menace. If he could be shot before his
fangs tore at the flesh of a reindeer, there would be gain. He would be
food, and at the present moment there was no food. The Jap girl did not
know it, but Johnny did. Not a fish, not a hunk of venison, not a pilot
biscuit was on their sled. They would soon be reduced to the necessity
of killing and eating one of their deer, unless, unless--the howl came
more plainly and strangely enough with it came the crack crack of hoofs.

Johnny sprang to his feet. What could that crack cracking of hoofs mean?
Had one of his deer already broken his tether?

With automatic in hand, he was out in the storm in an instant. Even as
he became accustomed to the dim light, he saw a skulking form drifting
down with the wind. Dropping upon his stomach, he took deliberate aim
and fired. There was a howl of agony but still the creature came on.
Another shot and it turned over tearing at the whirling snow.

Johnny jumped to his feet. "Eats," he murmured.

But then there came that other sound again, the crack crack of hoofs. He
peered through the swirling snow, counting his reindeer. They were all
there. Here was a mystery. It was not long in solving. He had but to
glance to the south of his reindeer to detect some dark object bulking
large in the night.

"A deer!" he muttered. "A wild reindeer! What luck!"

It was true. The wolf had doubtless been stalking him. Creeping
stealthily forward, foot by foot, Johnny was at last within easy range
of the creature. His automatic cracked twice in quick succession and a