He thought it was a small, lean cow from this distance, and wondered at its courage, and if it would last until it got close enough to where there were human beings to be safe from further pursuit. At first he thought of going inside and putting on his coat and boots and getting his arms and starting out toward it on his pony. But this was too much trouble, and he stood watching the tragedy of the plain, hoping for the plucky animal that was doing its best to outrun and outwit the wolves, for they were close enough now for him to see that there were four of the gray devils of the prairie. But only one of them was worthy of a second look--a great, gray brute much larger than his mates and twice as courageous. Ted thought it strange that the wolf king was not doing as the others did; that is, running up behind their victim and making a slash at his legs with their razorlike fangs, then retreating with a whining howl when they felt the heels of the poor brute they were tormenting. No, the big wolf was leaping high into the air from the side, evidently trying to reach something that was fastened to the pony's back--for now Ted was able to distinguish what it was. It was a bay pony, rather small, and almost all in with fatigue. Something baggy was tied to its back, which resembled a bundle of old clothes. Once, as he watched, Ted saw the pony go to its knees, actually tired out and weak. But it was up again, and struggling bravely on again. "Plucky little beggar," muttered Ted, in admiration. "Wish I had taken my first hunch and ridden out to help it. By Jove, it's not too late yet!" Without going into the house Ted jumped to the ground and ran out to meet the pony and its enemies. It did not occur to him that he was not armed until he was halfway to them. Then he felt in his pocket and found his big-bladed knife. Taking this out, he sprang open the big blade and carried it loosely. He had stooped and picked up a large stone, which he carried in his hand. When he came close enough he hurled the stone at the wolves, and a dull thud, followed by a shrill, dog-like howl of pain, told him that he had countered on the rib plate of one of the nasty brutes. Then he let out a wild yell, and three of the wolves turned and fled. Not so the king of the pack. He stopped for a moment and stared at Ted with his pale-green eyes. Then, with a long howl of defiance, he sprang again at the pony, which had picked up courage at hearing a human voice and was coming on more briskly. Suddenly Ted recognized the pony. It was the major's Christmas gift, and Ted once more gave voice to an exultant yell, which only served to increase the fury of the wolf's attack at whatever was fastened to the pony's back. Ted knew that Fred Caruthers, as he tried always to call the young brother of the major, would send the pony back some day, and now his faith had been rewarded.