Dick had heard the boys talk of the danger of being alone at night, for
there were wolves and other animals that would daunt a man, to say
nothing of a small boy.
He thought he would follow the coyote only long enough to get another
shot at him, and then retrace his way back to the camp. By putting
Spraddle through his paces he ought to be able to reach it before dark.
So he set forth again in the wake of the coyote, which was becoming more
and more aggravating every minute. Suddenly the coyote disappeared
altogether. It had done this before when it had gone down into the
trough between two of the great, rolling swales of the prairie, but
always it had come into sight again in a few minutes.
This time, however, it did not, and Dick wondered why.
In a few minutes he understood why, for he found himself at the edge of
a coulee which had been washed deep by the storms of many winters.
Dick looked up and down the coulee for the wolf, and saw a form, gray
and lithe, slinking among the bowlders with which it was filled.
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