"Take a look
at it, Bud and Stella. Don't you think that is White Fang?"
"It shore is, er his twin brother," said Bud, to which Stella nodded
acquiescence.
"Take it easy," said Ted. "We'll ride toward him, and when we get as
close as we can without his bolting, put your spurs to it and chase him
for all you're worth. He can run like a scared rabbit."
They rode easily toward the wolf, who looked up at them with a wise,
sidewise twist of his hoary old head, but did not increase his speed
any.
"He's tolling us into the hills where he can easily get lost," said Ted.
"Don't let him do it! Head him off! Turn him back to the prairie."
Diverging, they rode parallel with White Fang again, and, before he
suspected their maneuver, they were ahead of him, and began to close in.
But finally White Fang stopped and watched them for a moment, then
deliberately turned and set off on the back trail at a smart lope along
the ridge he had come.
"I wish we had a couple of Russian wolfhounds here," said Ted, as the
three were breezing along in the trail of White Fang. "That would make
it something like a chase."
"I'm bettin' that ole galoot will give us somethin' ter do before we
ketch up with him, at that," said Bud.
"Close up on him," said Ted. "He's having too good a time.
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