What was that heap on the prairie ahead? Bones! hundreds of them! Some accident had befallen a bunch of cattle here in the past and their picked skeletons had been flung into a heap. The wolf ran for refuge behind this pile and Ruth immediately urged Freckles toward the spot.
She leaped from the saddle, tossing the bridle reins over his head upon the ground and ran to seize one of the bigger bones. It was the leg bone of a big steer and it made a promising club.
But even as she seized upon this primitive weapon the wolf made a final stand. He appeared around the far side of the pile. He saw that the girl was afoot, and with a snarl he sprang upon her.
Ruth uttered an involuntary shriek, and ran back. But she could not reach Freckles. The wolf's hot breath steamed against her neck as she ran. He had missed her by a hair!
The girl whirled and faced him, the club poised in both her hands, determined to give battle. Her situation was perilous in the extreme. Afoot as she was, the beast had the advantage, and he knew this as well as she did. He did not hurry, but approached his victim with caution—fangs bared, jaws extended, his wounds for the moment forgotten.
