Rowdy screamed now; not at all like a boy would cry out. He leaped from the bed and ran to the other side of the room. There, hanging on two pegs, was a small rifle. Sammy had eyed it with longing. But Rafe, awakened as well, shouted:
“No good taking that, Rowdy! It isn’t loaded. You know I shot away the last cartridge at that old fox.”
“Oh, Rafe! I told you then you were foolish,” said Rowdy. “What shall we do?”
“What is it?” yelled Sammy, tumbling out of bed.
“It’s a wolf!” replied Rowdy. “I can hear it! Listen!”
Dot added her voice to the din. “Tell that wolf we haven’t anything to throw to him, so he might’s well go away,” she declared.
Rowdy ran to the hole in the snow. It seemed to be suddenly lighter there. Was the beast that was scratching through letting daylight into the cave?
Rafe shrieked and leaped out from under his coverings.
“You’ll be killed, Rowdy! Don’t go there!” he cried.
Dashing across the floor of the cave, he seized Rowdy and pulled him out of the way.