habit would cry out for the companionship of man, and he would show up innocently at the Bar T ranch.
In the face of all his cleverness the net began to tighten around Flash after two months of this dual existence.
Dad Kinney shifted his camp to Wind River. Winter had crept down the mountains until it was one rough white mass clear down to the base of the hills. A full half of the time there was a tracking snow in the foothills and with a relay string of grain fed horses Kinney commenced his tireless hunt for the five hundred dollar wolf.
The wolfer knew well the one greatest weakness of his prey—that of gorging on warm meat and bedding down. A swift horse can often wear down an overfed wolf. It is established custom for any rider who sees such a race to throw himself into it and press the wolf with a fresh horse. More of the big gray killers of the open range country have been relayed to death on a new snow than by all other methods combined.
Day after day Kinney rode steadily on the trail, his sights set for a thousand yards. Flash learned to watch for the tiny speck that always appeared on his back track and gradually enlarged into a
