game that seemed in some way associated with the missing sound. After that he played it often when Moran lay asleep in his blankets.
As Flash trotted under the trees it seemed that phantom shapes were trotting with him and that he heard the soft patter of running feet. Some larger shape fled before them and he increased the pace, pressing after it with all his flying speed. He thrilled to the rush of air past his ears as his powerful muscles drove him on. His sole purpose in life was to be first of all the dim forms that traveled with him to reach the fleeing shape ahead.
It always eluded him until one night when he burst from among the trees and sped down a long, grassy park.
The pattering feet of the shades beside him were as soft and unreal as before but the shadow out ahead seemed suddenly to take on more concrete form.
He gained on it. The sound of flying hoofbeats on the grass, and the warm elk scent in the air made the game more real. With a last tremendous spurt he closed with it, and while still in the throes of his exalted dream he lunged and struck.
His teeth cut through real flesh and blood, and
