Porker's merriment vanished and he glanced uneasily about their camp.
"Mad wolf—that's what he was," he mumbled. "They do git pestiferous this time o' year. Two seasons ago they bit a bull that belonged to th' A. F. C. outfit. We was bringin' up th' bull an' six cows. Bull went mad. I don't wanter see any sight like that again!"
"I thought that was all stuff," said Phinny, peering anxiously about. "Must be wolves that's hungry."
"No, sir!" emphatically denied Porker. "They'll go right by dead buf'ler. All they wanter do is to bite something. I was with a' outfit on th' Sweetwater when a big gray feller sneaked into our camp an' bit th' stock. We had tents an' I hope to die if he didn't come into one tent three times in one night. We had orders not to shoot; th' boss thinkin' we'd kill each other, or th' mules.
"Twice th' fellers drove him out with heavin' things at him, but th' last trip they was all asleep, and he chewed George Holmes on th' ear 'n' face somethin' cruel. Holmes begin to say he was goin' mad. Got so bad he wouldn't cross water till we'd covered him with blankets. Then one
