did not cast a shadow in the shine of the lamp!
One takes a shadow for granted. To be without one isisMulvaney did not know the portent of it. He was shaken with the discovery. He blew out the lamp quickly and got into bed in the dark.
No shadow! The argent moonlight splashing through the window fascinated him. A full moon was rising above the ridge along the eastern rim of the valley. Its orb lighted the land with a weird, eldritch illumination. It lay in a puddle on his floor and rose in a silver tide along the opposite wall.
The moonglow soothed his senses. He believed his imagination was overwrought. Maybe a touch of the sun. He drifted hazily in the shadowy borderland of consciousness.
Five miles over the ridges and tangled ravines from Kenneth Mulvaney and his troubled thoughts, big Sam Carver shook his grizzled white head and gestured with mahogany hands.
"If you ain't right," he rumbled at the small, dark-skinned man, "we'll be in a mess. Ever been a laughing-stock before?"
The small man was dressed in black, white collar turned back to fore. He was a priest and his name was Father d'Arcy.
"It is my duty to stamp out evil where I find it."
His appearance and accent marked him as French-Canadian.
"How long have you had this trouble?" he went on.
Carver shrugged. "Maybe two, three years. We've always had trouble in winterswhen the snow drove the wolves out of the mountains. Before, we drove our critters to summer pasture up in the mountains. Don't figger we lost many then. But the ground's barren up there any more. We pasture 'em in the valleys all summer longan' that's how our trouble comes. Never knew wolves to come down to the foothills in summertime."
"Yet you think I may be wrong; the wolves attack only when the moon is full?"
"Seems like its always happened that way," the rancher responded wearily. "Full moon last month and the month beforeand before that. There's a monstrous pack o' themthey ruin a terrific lot o' good beef."
"I know. Financially, the wolves are hitting you hard. But how about tonight?"
"Don't worry. Every rancher in these parts is ready. I'm ridin' out to join them pretty soon."
"The water?"
"Yeah. Crazy idea, though."
The priest shrugged.
"You have supplied yourself with a mirror? And the silveryou did with it as I ordered?"
"Yesmy God! Didn't I tell you we'll be the laughing stock if you ain't right about this?"
The priest made a steeple of his fingers and regarded the structure with calm meditation.
"The loup-garou cannot withstand these things," he said.
The rancher snorted weakly.
"If I ain't crazy now, I'm goin' to be when this is over! I'd as soon think those folks in the other valley were siccin' their dogs on our cattle. Though I've no doubt they've a hand in it somewheres."
"Very likely," agreed the priest.
"'Course, Yancey had no right shootin' that girl's horse out from under her today an' leavin' her afoot in the desert. I gave him the bloody devil. The sooner those people leave these parts, the better off we'll be. But I don't truck with shootin' horses out from under women."
"Getting back to the wolves, Mr. Carver. You don't really suspect those are dogs attacking your cattle?"
