"That is so," said Henderson senior, "unless he is hungry and I don't think these wolves would be at this time of the year. I presume there is but one. They are not very plenty."
Richard was all eagerness to be off, for he scented an adventure. He had spent one winter in the mountains with his father's shepherds and their stories of wolves and attacks on the sheep in the olden days thrilled him. He was young, courageous, and this threatened danger only added zest to the trip. His father took his part, so finally he set out. The moon was bright—and he had his revolver and Silversheene, so he felt perfectly secure. His mother heard him go whistling into the distance occasionally calling to the dog as he went.
"I do wish Richard was not so venturesome," she said to Mr. Henderson. "I am afraid something will happen to him sometime."
"He is a fine spirited boy," said her husband. "He has the making of a fine man.
