“There, that feels better,” Rex declared a moment later as he got out of the bunk and stretched himself. “Some day I’m going to get the jump on you, Parry, and then you want to look out.” “Bet’ not try heem. Wid deese hands I could bust you, oui,” and he held out two hands which, in Rex’s mind, fully justified his boast. “I tink mebby, you send for dat money today, oui?” the breed asked as he began to skin the rabbit. “Not today or any other day,” Rex declared emphatically. “As I’ve told you a dozen times, Parry, you’re just wasting your time here. I’d die before I’d give in to you. That’s the kind of a fellow I am and the sooner you understand it the better.” “We see,” Parry grinned. “Mebby you change mind pretty quick,” and a fierce look appeared, for a moment, in his eyes. During all the time that Rex had been held prisoner, his captor never allowed him to get behind him and Rex had given up the idea of taking him unaware. Parry was an excellent cook and Rex thoroughly enjoyed the rabbit stew. “Tell me, Parry,” Rex asked when they had finished eating. “What kind of a noise does that wolf of yours make? Is it like the howl of an ordinary wolf?” Instantly into the eyes of the breed sprang a frightened expression. Rex had greatly regretted that he had not time to plan with Bob, but he knew the boy and did not doubt but that, before the night was over, something would happen. So he had resolved to keep Parry wrought up to the highest pitch possible. “Oui,” he replied slowly. “Eet sound lik’ a wolf but much beeger sound. Eet is ter’ble. Sometime heem geet me,” and the man made the sign of the cross on his breast. “When did you hear it last?” Rex asked. “’Bout five-six month ago.” “Where was it?” “Right here, Eet sound lak’ eet down by lake.” “And what did you do?” “I leave here queek. Go back Presque Isle ver’ queek.” “But, Parry, don’t you have some sort of a charm that will protect you?” Rex asked, determined to keep him on the subject as long as possible. “Non,” he replied, shaking his head. “Dere is no charm can keep dat sort of wolf away. Heem ’fraid nottin’, non.” “And you really think that he’ll get you sometime?” “Oui, heem geet me pret’ soon. I older now dan der others. My time come soon oui.” “But why hasn’t some one shot him? Did anyone ever try it?” Rex asked. “Oui. My uncle, heem try eet once. Heem see heem and geet good sight on heem, but bullet go right troo heem, no hurt. Bullet no bon wid dat wolf, non, non,” and the man shook his head sadly. During the afternoon and early evening, Rex, from time to time, harked back to the subject of the spectral wolf, and, by the time dusk had fallen he was pleased to note that the breed was in a highly nervous condition. After supper was finished, he fell to pacing back and forth across the room, and seemed constantly to be listening.