The more he reflected upon this suggestion of his own, the more reasonable
did it become. His plan was to drive out the wolf, to compel him to show
up, as a card player might say. Considering the dread which all wild
animals have of fire, the plan was simple, and would have occurred to
anyone.

"The camp-fire seems to be all out, but there must be some embers under
the ashes. Mickey threw down his torch somewhere near here."

Carefully raking off the ashes with a stick, he found plenty of coals
beneath. These were brought together, and some of the twigs laid over, the
heat causing them at once to burst into a crackling flame. This speedily
radiated enough light for his purpose, which was simply to find one of
those "fat" pieces of pine, which make the best kind of torches. A few
minutes search brought forth the one he needed, and then, shoving his
revolver down in his belt, he was ready.

The light revealed the large beautiful Apache blanket, stretched out upon
the ground, while the Irishman lay half upon it and half upon the earth,
sleeping as soundly as if in his bed at home. Beyond him and in every
direction was the blackness of night. But, looking to his right, he
discovered the two eyes staring at him and glowing like balls of fire.

The animal was evidently puzzled at the sight before him. Fred dreaded a
shot from the Indians above, and, as soon as he had his torch ready and
had taken all his bearings, he drew the ashes over the spluttering flame.
Save for the torch, all was again wrapped in impenetrable gloom.

The glowing orbs were still discernible, and, holding the smoking torch
above his head, Fred began moving slowly toward them. The animal did not