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 working along one certain line until he had finally evolved a satisfactory theory of his own.

In the dim ages of the past man had undoubtedly used his senses of scent and hearing as keenly as the beasts, else he had not survived. From long centuries of disuse these senses had become dulled yet they still functioned slightly. Some faint scent or sound, the snapping of a twig or the soft pad of a distant footfall, too elusive to make a distinct impression upon the consciousness of modern man, was communicated to some long dormant brain cell which now only reacted sluggishly and the warning was manifested by this vague feeling, hunch or intuition that all hill men know.

This was Moran’s solution and as he walked he kept his face straight to the front, glancing to the right and left without turning his head, seeking ocular proof of the presence he felt. His patience was rewarded by one brief glimpse of a long gray shape that slipped between the spruce trunks a hundred yards up the slope and that one instant enabled him to identify the animal as belonging to the wolf tribe. His thrill of satisfaction was accompanied by a shock of surprise.

Moran knew that the tales of animals who stalk men through the hills originate mainly in the too