of Gray Wolf might be a friend. One whom he had known in the old days. There was something about the trail that reminded him of those old days. He could not shake it off. The trail was that of one he knew. He felt sure of it.
So Silversheene raced along the trail, sometimes losing it for hours, yet always finding it again. The six wolf pups were forgotten. In fact, he never saw them again. They were old enough to take care of themselves. But this trail was calling for him to follow.
There was something at the end of the trail that he must fight. But if it was a friend could he fight? He was a dog.
He had been reared by a girl away in the Adirondack mountains. Men had befriended him. He had loved men and women with all the love of his dog heart. Could he kill a man, even though he had killed his wolf mate?
Of course, Silversheene's thoughts were not so definite as this. He was simply torn
