looked, first this way and that for an escape and this hesitation was his undoing, for closing up their ranks the squadron passed over him like an express train and left him limp upon the snow. About fifty yards beyond the prostrate wolf, they wheeled as though by command of unseen riders and charged back. By this time the wolf had raised upon his fore-legs but his hind quarters seemed paralyzed and once again the charging horses passed over him.
Larry's heart gave a throb of fear as he saw the mighty wolf spring at Patches' throat but the pounding hoofs crushed him to earth and the flying broncho passed by unscathed. Once again the maneuvering squadron paused about fifty yards from the prostrate wolf, but this time Patches went back alone. He came up close to the fallen destroyer and reared upon his hind legs and brought down his forefeet like pile drivers upon the wolf. This he repeated thrice; then, concluding that all life had been crushed out of him, he returned to his little band.
Larry waited to see no more but made all haste down through the piñons and junipers, sending snow and sand sliding down before him. He reached Piñon Valley excited and breathless.
He found Patches and his little band of mustangs still bunched together just as he had last seen them. He thrust two fingers into his mouth and blew the
