Sitting down
close to the fire, Dick gave himself up to his thoughts.
And what numerous thoughts they were--of home and of school, of his
brothers, and of the Baxters and their other enemies, and of all that
had happened since they had first started to go to Putnam Hall. And then
he thought of the Lanings and of the Stanhopes, and lingered long over
the mental picture of sweet Dora and of what she had last said to him.
"She's just an all-right girl," he said to himself. "Heaven bless her
and keep her from any further trouble!"
When the fire showed signs of burning low he arose and piled on more
brushwood. There was hardly enough at hand to suit him, and, ax in hand,
he started back from the river, to cut more.
He was within fifteen feet of some dense bushes when of a sudden he came
to a halt, as he saw a pair of gleaming eyes glaring at him. As soon as
he noticed the eyes they disappeared.
"A wild animal," he thought. "Can it be a wolf?"
Retracing his steps to the fire, he caught up his gun and waited.
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