eagerness and expectancy, as though waiting for the man to turn and
retrace his steps. Then, with a quick low whine, Wolf sprang after
him, overtook him, caught his hand between his teeth with reluctant
tenderness, and strove gently to make him pause.

Failing in this, Wolf raced back to where Walt Irvine sat, catching
his coat-sleeve in his teeth and trying vainly to drag him after
the retreating man.

Wolf's perturbation began to wax. He desired ubiquity. He wanted
to be in two places at the same time, with the old master and the
new, and steadily the distance between them was increasing. He
sprang about excitedly, making short nervous leaps and twists, now
toward one, now toward the other, in painful indecision, not
knowing his own mind, desiring both and unable to choose, uttering
quick sharp whines and beginning to pant.

He sat down abruptly on his haunches, thrusting his nose upward,
the mouth opening and closing with jerking movements, each time
opening wider. These jerking movements were in unison with the
recurrent spasms that attacked the throat, each spasm severer and
more intense than the preceding one. And in accord with jerks and
spasms the larynx began to vibrate, at first silently, accompanied
by the rush of air expelled from the lungs, then sounding a low,
deep note, the lowest in the register of the human ear. All this
was the nervous and muscular preliminary to howling.

But just as the howl was on the verge of bursting from the full
throat, the wide-opened mouth was closed, the paroxysms ceased, and
he looked long and steadily at the retreating man. Suddenly Wolf