"Whoever gets it will try to count me out," was the way he reasoned.
"I'm at the bottom of the heap, and likely to stay there for some time
to come."
The time dragged slowly, and to occupy himself he began to cut more wood
for the fire. The task made him grit his teeth.
"Got to work like a common woodchopper," he muttered. "It's a shame!"
He was just dragging the last of the wood up to the fire when a sudden
yelping broke upon his ears. Looking up, he saw a lone wolf standing at
the edge of the timber, gazing fixedly at him.
"A wolf!" he muttered, and his face grew pale. "Scat!" And he waved his
hand threateningly.
The wolf disappeared behind some brush, but did not go far. Sitting
down, it let out the most dismal howls imaginable, which soon brought a
dozen or more other wolves to the scene. Then all of the pack came into
view, much to Jasper Grinder's horror.
"They want to eat me up!" he groaned, and ran for the nearest tree,
which was close to the shelter. "Oh, I must get away, somehow!"
He clutched at the tree and began to climb with all possible-speed.
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