in the sheep shed, and had settled down to his task of anxious watching. The snow fell faster and faster so that darkness came on by mid-afternoon. He had tried to drive the old collie dog out to herd in the sheep, but the poor creature would not leave its master and, even when pushed outside, remained whining beside the door.
"He couldn't do much anyway," sighed Ted as he let him in again. "How those coyotes yelp! I wish, after all, that I had brought Pedro."
Michael had heard the coyotes too and was striving feebly to rise from his bed.
"I must go out to them, my poor creatures," he gasped. "Those devil beasts will have them driven over the whole country before morning."
But he fell back, too weak to move farther, and was silent a long time. When he did speak it was almost aloud.
"With the cold and the snow, I'm thinking there will be worse things abroad this night than just the coyotes."
He lay very still while Ted sat beside him, beginning to feel sleepy and blinking at the firelight. Eleven o'clock, twelve, one, the slow hands of his watch pointed to the crawling hours. Michael was not asleep but he said nothing, he was listening too intently. It was after one and the boy might have been dozing, when the old man spoke again.
