"Club them!"

Then another shot rang out as Fred swung into action. It was at close range, and the charge of shot tore directly into the throat of the leading wolf, causing him to leap high into the air, and then fall over on his back. He plunged for a moment, sending the snow flying in every direction, and then lay still.

Shocked evidently by the fate that had overtaken both of his companions, the third wolf came to a sudden halt. With eyes glaring fiercely, he snapped and then leaped for the nearest rocks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WOLF RECEIVED A BLOW THAT BOWLED HIM OVER.

_Page 260_]

"Shoot him, somebody! We want to get all three of them!"

Crack! Bang! went a rifle and a shotgun almost simultaneously, but the aim of the two marksmen was poor, and only a few scattering shots went through the tail of the wolf. Then, with a wild yelp, he disappeared behind the rocks, and that was the last seen of him. In the meantime, the wounded beast was snapping and snarling most ferociously. He sent a shower of loose snow toward the Rovers, and then made a desperate leap at Jack.

It was a time of dire peril, and no one realized it more than did the oldest Rover boy. He attempted to retreat, but to do so in snowshoes was too much for him, and over he went on his side in a deep bank of snow, almost disappearing from view.

"The wolf is on top of Jack!"

"Shoot him--but be careful and don't hit Jack!"

"Don't fire!" gasped Randy. "You'll hit Jack sure!" and then, as well as he was able, he sprang to the front, using his gun as a club as he did so. Around came the stock with a wide swing, and the wolf received a blow in the side that bowled him over and over.

This second attack, coming after he had been wounded in the foreleg, was too much for the animal, and with a yelp of sudden fear he went limping and leaping through the snow, sending the loose particles flying all about him. One of the boys discharged his gun after the beast, but whether he hit the animal or not he could not tell. In another moment the wolf was out of sight.

"Do you think any of them will come back?" panted Andy, who was quite out of breath with excitement.

"I don't think so," answered Jack. "However, let us reload just as quickly as we can and be ready for them." He had been taught the all-important lesson that a hunter should not let his firearm remain empty.

"Well, anyhow, I got one of them!" cried Fred, with proper pride, as he surveyed the beast he had laid low. The discharge of shot had almost torn the wolf's throat asunder.

"What will you do with him?" questioned Randy.

"I'm going to take him back to the cabin and ask Uncle Barney about it,"

was Fred's reply. "Perhaps we can have the wolf stuffed."

The excitement of the encounter with the wolves had taken away the boys'

desire to do any more hunting that day, and, strapping the dead wolf fast to a tree limb, they started on the return to the northern end of the island, each doing his share in carrying the dead animal.

"What's that? A wolf?" cried Barney Stevenson, when he saw what they had brought. And then he added quickly. "Must be the one that we located in the cabin at the other end of the island."

"We can't say about that," answered Jack, and then all of the boys told the story of the encounter in the woods.

"Four of them! Why, I haven't heard of any such thing as that around here for years! I'll have to go after some of those wolves myself."

"I was wondering what we could do with this wolf," said Fred. "Do you think I could send him home to have him stuffed?"

"You could, my boy. But I wouldn't advise it. Who would want a stuffed wolf around anyhow? Of course, you might put him in some club-house or furrier's window--or something like that."

"Oh, I guess I won't bother," answered Fred.

"I'll tell you what we'll do," suggested Jack. "We'll prop the wolf up against a tree, and then take a photograph of Fred shooting at him;"

and so it was decided, and the boys had much fun taking the picture.

Several days pa.s.sed, and no one came near the island. In the meantime, the boys went out hunting every day, and Barney Stevenson showed them how to fish through a hole in the ice. This was great sport, and they had the satisfaction of adding a number of pickerel and perch to their bill of fare. During those days, they cooked and ate the wild turkeys, and found the meat quite palatable.

"We sure are having one dandy time," said Fred one evening, when sitting in front of the blazing fire.

"I don't see how it could be any better, Fred," answered Andy.

"And just think of what we've brought down in the way of rabbits, squirrels, pheasants, woodc.o.c.ks and turkeys!"

"Not to say anything about my wolf," came from Fred.

"Yes, and a shot I got at a brook mink," added Jack. He had seen the mink at a distance, but had been unable to bring the game down.

Uncle Barney had been with the boys at supper time, but had taken himself over to his own cabin, to smoke and to read one of several books the boys had given him.

"I think I'll go over and see the old lumberman," said Jack presently.

"You fellows can stay here."

"Going to talk to him about Ruth and her folks?" questioned Randy.

"Yes, if I get the chance."

"I wouldn't worry him too much," said Fred. "He hasn't gotten over that visit from Professor Lemm and the others yet."

"Oh, I'll be careful--don't worry about that."

The old lumberman was a bit surprised to have Jack walk in on him, but the youth had brought his gun along, and he asked Uncle Barney to examine the hammer of the weapon.

"It looks all right to me," said the old lumberman, after an examination; "but I'll put on a few drops of oil, and then maybe it'll work easier. It won't do to have the hammer stick just when you want to use it."

"And now, Uncle Barney, if you'll permit me, I'd like to speak of something else," said Jack, as he dropped into a seat alongside of the fireplace. "I've got something on my mind, and I want to see if you can't help me out."

"Something on your mind, eh?" returned the old man kindly. "Well, if I can help you out, you can depend on old Uncle Barney to do it," and he smiled broadly.

"It isn't exactly my trouble, Uncle Barney. It's somebody else's," went on the oldest Rover boy. "A young lady I know is very much worried over something, and she has asked me if I can't do something to help her get rid of that worry."

"Must be some young lady you know pretty well, then, Jack;" and the old lumberman smiled again.

"I do know her quite well. And I think a great deal of her friendship.

Her folks have some trouble on hand--quite a good deal of it in fact--and it worries the girl a good deal, and that, of course, worries me. You see, there has been a terrible mistake made, and neither the girl nor her folks know how to get at it to remedy it."

"I see--I see!" The old lumberman nodded his head several times. "That's the way it is often. Things get into a snarl, and a fellow can't see his way clear to straighten 'em out. I've been there myself, and I know."

"This young lady I'm speaking about has an old relative--a sort of uncle--that she thinks a great deal of. Her folks think a great deal of this gentleman, too. Now, years ago, her folks and the old gentleman had a quarrel, and now the old gentleman won't let her come anywhere near him, even though she would love dearly to talk to him and try to explain matters, so that he would understand that it was not her folks'

fault that the quarrel had taken place."

"See here! what are you talking about?" exclaimed Uncle Barney, eyeing Jack suspiciously. "Come now, no beating about the bush!"