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 and see what he would do. Finally the howling got on his nerves and he slyly slunk behind a tree with his rifle, thinking to shoot from cover and so get a clean shot at the gray wolf; but the wolf seemed to read his thought and slunk out of sight before he could shoot.

When he awoke on the following day he discovered more wolf tracks near his campfire, and some of them within twenty feet of where he had slept. The Phantom Wolf was on the cliff where he had seen him the night before. It was a long shot, but he sent one bullet whistling at the wolf before he scurried to cover.

That day he saw him three times and gave up all thought of prospecting. He must shoot that wolf before he could think of anything else. In spite of him it was spoiling his sleep at night and taking away his appetite by day. He had never heard of such a thing. Surely this gray devil meant to tear open his throat some night while he was sleeping. He would do it, too, if he did