We didn't learn that call by any correspondence
school method. It is the genuine thing. We got it by dodging the
keepers and stirring up the black bears at Central Park."
The outlaws were now making timid runs out toward the point from
which the sound had come, and the boys thought best to drop back
a short distance, still keeping Fremont in sight, however. Directly
the outlaws assembled again and stood talking in the villainous lingo
which they had used before. It was evident that they were not a little
alarmed at the thought of a wild animal being so close to them.
"They'll think there's more than one Black Bear after them," Shaw
whispered as the men turned down the eastern slope and again moved
toward the desert-like plain which lay between the mountains and the river.
"There's a Wolf after them, too," grinned Jimmie. "If I had some of
the Wolves I left in New York we'd eat 'em alive," he added. "I'm hungry
enough to eat that big lobster at three bites."
As the boy ceased speaking a pebble struck him on the top of the head,
and the whine of a wolf reached his ears. There was silence for a moment,
and then the sharp, vicious, canine-like snap of a wolf on scent was heard.
"I reckon all the Wolves in the world are not in New York," Shaw said.
"That was a patrol signal, Jimmie. Go out and find your chum."
"It's Nestor!" almost shouted the boy, and Nestor it was, climbing
laughingly toward the astonished group.
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