Then a dim shadow drove at him and savage teeth slashed at the arm which held the girl. The instant his grip relaxed she tore away and fled. Moran almost ran over her as he tumed a bend but checked his rush and caught her, holding her close in his arms.
Brent’s gun spoke once and the flame scorched Flash as he sprang the second time. Then his teeth closed on the hand and crunched the bones as he tore the gun away. Brent was a powerful man. He lunged and struck, kicked terribly with his heavy boots. His head struck a dead limb and with one wrench he tore it from the tree. It whistled through the air as he whirled and struck again and again. He screamed like a fighting animal as he sought to drive off this thing which had pounced on him out of the night.
The fight was short. Brent lurched to his knees, and before he could rise again the teeth which had torn the life from many a tough bull elk closed on the soft throat of aman. There was no sound under the trees.
Then a cry filled the valley and echoed among the tims—the savage, triumphant cry of the killing wolf.
