Bram had more than the bad man's ordinary drop on him.

In his wolves he possessed not only an advantage but a certainty.

If Philip had doubted this, as he waited for another moment with the muzzle of his revolver close to the opening, his uncertainty was swept away by the appearance thirty feet in front of his tunnel of three of Bram's wolves.

They were giants of their kind, and as the three faced his refuge he could see the snarling gleam of their long fangs.

A fourth and a fifth joined them, and after that they came within his vision in twos and threes until a score of them were huddled straight in front of him.