"Now give 'em a second barrel, boys!" cried Spouter, and a moment later three more reports rang out.
Then, unable to resist the temptation to get into the fight, Fred caught up his gun and also fired, managing to catch one of the fleeing beasts in the hind quarters.
"I guess that's the last of those wolves," remarked Spouter. "I don't believe they'll come around here again all winter."
The wolf shot through the neck was dead, while at least two of the others were so badly wounded they could scarcely drag themselves away through the storm. The others disappeared as if by magic, racing along at the top of their speed.
"Hello there!" came from out of the storm. "How did you make out with those wolves?" It was Jack who was calling, and a moment later he appeared with Gif following.
"There is what is left of the pack!" cried Randy, pointing to the dead wolf. "Spouter brought that one down, and we managed to wound at least two others."
"And those that could do it left quicker than them came," added his twin.
"Good for you, Spouter!" cried Jack. "Evidently spraining your ankle didn't interfere with your marksmanship."
"Huh! anybody could hit a target if he was right on top of it," answered the other cadet; nevertheless Spouter was immensely pleased over his success in laying the big wolf low.
The carcass of the dead beast was dragged into the entryway, and then Gif and Jack brought a few more sticks of wood from the shed.