“Isn't there some danger?” she asked Rafe again.
“Not for us,” he said. “Of course, if the whole pack gathers and catches us, then we have to do something.”
“What do you do?” demanded Nan quickly.
“Why, the last time we were chased by wolves, we happened to have a ham and a side of bacon along. So we chucked out first the one, and then the other, and so pacified the brutes till we got near town.”
“Oh!” cried Nan, half believing, half in doubt.
She looked back again. There, into the flickering light of the lantern, a gaunt, huge creature leaped. Nan could see his head and shoulders now and then as he plunged on after the sleigh, and a wickeder looking beast, she hoped never to see.
“Oh!” she gasped again, and grabbed at Rafe's arm.
“Don't you be afraid,” drawled that young rascal. “I reckon he hasn't many of his jolly companions with him. If he had, of course, we'd have to throw you out to pacify him. That's the rule—youngest and prettiest goes first——-”
“Like the ham, I s'pose?” sniffed Nan, in some anger, and just then Tom reached over the back of the front seat and seized his brother by the shoulder with a grip that made Rafe shriek with pain.
Nan was almost as startled as was Rafe. In the half-darkness Tom's dull face blazed with anger, and he held his writhing brother as though he were a child.