“With this freezing wind blowing, Jeek and his friends will get rather cold, won’t they?” asked Frank.
“They’ll freeze to death right where they are,” moaned Blinky in the same whining voice. “They had climbed part way up a hill and I’ll bet the wind is getting them.” He shivered at thought of the blizzard-like wind blowing outside, the wailing and moaning of which, and the whistling, all could hear as they stood around the cozy fire.
“Fellows,” decided Frank, “four of us will take our rifles and shotguns and go after them. Snadder and Blinky must come along to show us where they are. We mustn’t let men freeze to death!”
They decided on the four, and Frank, knowing that the newcomers wanted to be in on any excitement, choose Jack Eastwick and Tom Budd, the third being Lanky Wallace, Lanky, whom he knew he could always trust to act quickly and to think largely as he thought.
It was fully an hour before they came to the hill where Snadder said the wolves had the three men treed.
“Right over in this valley, on the other side.” He pointed along the trail.
A new moon was just rising over the hills, and a faint, pale, trembling light filtered through the few clouds. A high wind blew, but the sky was extraordinarily clear for this season.
Dropping down the trail into the valley, picking their steps as they went, listening against the whistling and humming of the wind through the trees, the four boys followed the lead of the two tramps, both of whom peered ahead fearfully.
“There they are!” Snadder suddenly stopped in his tracks, pointing to a place several hundred yards ahead of them. “I can hear them now!”
Sure enough, the snarling sounds of the wolves came to all of them, for they had dropped so far below the top of the hills that the wind was merely a moan above them.