huge form bending over the stove. It was a splendid opportunity. A
single leap and he would be at the outlaw's throat. With that
advantage, in open combat, the struggle would at least be equal.

The girl must have guessed what was in his mind, for suddenly her
fingers were clutching at his arm and she was pulling him away
from the wolf-man, speaking to him in the language which he could
not understand. And then Bram turned from the stove, picked up a
pail, and without looking at them left the cabin. They could hear
his laugh as he joined the wolves.

Again Philip's conclusions toppled down about him like a thing
made of blocks. During the next few moments he knew that the girl
was telling him that Bram had not harmed her. She seemed almost
hysterically anxious to make him understand this, and at last,
seizing him by the hand, she drew him into the room beyond the
curtained door. Her meaning was quite as plain as words. She was
showing him what Bram had done for her. He had made her this
separate room by running a partition across the cabin, and in
addition to this he had built a small lean-to outside the main
wall entered through a narrow door made of saplings that were
still green. He noticed that the partition was also made of fresh
timber. Except for the bunk built against the wall, a crude chair,
a sapling table and half a dozen bear skins that carpeted the
floor the room was empty. A few garments hung on the wall--a hood
made of fur, a thick mackinaw coat belted at the waist with a red
scarf, and something done up in a small bundle.

"I guess--I begin to get your meaning," he said, looking straight
into her shining blue eyes. "You want to impress on me that I'm