"When will you come again?" asked Barnwell.
"When your hurts need redressing."
"And that will be?"
"To-morrow."
"How long will I probably be laid up?"
"A week," and he went away.
Barnwell experienced great relief from the skillful dressing his wounds had received, and he was presently able to collect his thoughts.
And naturally enough they ran back to the wolf's den, where he had found the starting point that corresponded with Batavsky's diagram, and the legend which the landlord had told him of. What a startling coincidence it was, to say the least of it!
Of course, he did not for a moment believe the supernatural part of it, but it certainly was strange that he should have been met by a pack of hungry wolves just as it seemed that he was on the threshold of success.
But the more he thought the matter over, the more reasonable did it seem to him that, even if that were the location of Batavsky's buried treasure, it was only natural that wolves should rendezvous there. But how superstition should locate money there was more than he could understand.