"Look at the dogs! Look at the dogs!" cried Chunky. "They're fighting each other."
Tad's face flushed and his eyes flashed.
"Chunky, don't you—don't you see what it is?" cried Tad excitedly.
"'Course I do. It's those confounded dogs fighting when they ought to be chasing bear."
"No! The hounds are fighting a band of wolves!" shouted Butler.
"Wolves?" gasped Stacy.
"Yes. The wolves have attacked our dogs. They have killed some of them. Are you game to tackle them?"
"I'm game for anything that spells trouble. Whoop! I'm the original wolf-killer from the plains of Arizona, if that's where they come from. Get to them! I'm with you."
Tad grinned harshly. Putting spurs to his mount he dashed straight toward the battling dogs and wolves. He had heard that wolves sometimes attacked the hunting dogs right ahead of the hunters themselves, but he had always considered this to be a hunter's story. Now he saw the verification before his own eyes.
"Use your revolver and be careful that you don't shoot me," yelled Tad.