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His father took it up and, half pulling it out, looked at it by the starlight. "Forty-four, eh? Wal, wal, there's shore no better, if a man can hold straight." At the moment a big gray dog trotted up to sniff at Jean. "An' heah's your bunkmate, Shepp. He's part lofer, Jean. His mother was a favorite shepherd dog of mine. His father was a big timber wolf that took us two years to kill.
Alcatraz did not know it, but it made him shudder; before long he was to recognize the call of the lofer wolf, that grey ghost which runs murdering through the mountains. Small though the sounds were, they convinced Alcatraz that his claim to dominion would be mightily disputed. But what is worth having at all if it is not worth fighting for?
YOU no Pilat you allee same tunnel-man you Bob Johnson! Me shabbee you! You dressee up allee same as Led Lofer but you Bob Johnson allee same. My fader washee washee for you. You no payee him. You owee him folty dolla! Me blingee you billee. You no payee billee! You say, 'Chalkee up, John. You say, 'Bimeby, John. But me no catchee folty dolla!"
On peeping out from behind the last pine, I found I had calculated pretty well, for there was the hollow, the big windfall, with its round, starfish-shaped roots exposed to the bright sun, and near that, the carcass. Sure enough, pulling hard at it, was the gray-white wolf I recognized as my "lofer." But he presented an exceedingly difficult shot.
"I seen thet animal. Fust time I reckoned it was a lofer. Second time it was right near them Isbels. An' I'm damned now if I don't believe it's thet half-lofer sheep dog of Gass Isbel's." "Wal, what if it is?" "Ha! ... Shore we needn't worry about hidin' out," replied Springer, sententiously. "With thet dog Jean Isbel could trail a grasshopper." "The hell y'u say!" muttered Colter.
You choose your lofer from ze world. A husband, if it is your taste. Bose, if you please. Zen, I say, you shall, you shall lofe a man. Let him tease and sting ah! it will be magnifique: Aha! ze voice will sharpen, go deep; yeas! to be a tale of blood. Lofe till you could stab yourself: Brava! But now? Little fool, I say!" Emilia believed that she was verily forfeiting an empire.
Both his comrades moved to get in line with his finger. Ellen could not see from her position. "Shore thet's a big lofer," declared Somers. "Reckon he scented us." "There he goes along the Rim," observed Colter. "He doesn't act leary. Looks like a good sign to me. Mebbe the Isbels have gone the other way." "Looks bad to me," rejoined Springer, gloomily. "An' why?" demanded Colter.
You don't vant Mooney to make lofe to you? You don't vant him to giss you? hey, vos dot it?" "Yes, that was exactly it." "Ach! you too nice to be brofessional; you like to choose your lofer, hey? You forget you earn a livin' so. Vot you got against Mooney?" Miss Norvell, her cheeks burning indignantly, her eyes already ablaze, did not mince words.
Being nearer to the river than to the cañon wall it was in the latter direction that the stallion found the wider free space and towards it, accordingly, he directed his flight, running as he had only run when the lofer wolf dogged his heels. It was only a feint.
Again the girls strained their ears. That was not necessary, for presently, clear and cold out of the silence, pealed a mournful howl, long drawn, strange and full and wild. "Oh! What's that?" whispered Bo. "That's a big gray wolf a timber-wolf, or lofer, as he's sometimes called," replied Dale. "He's high on some rocky ridge back there.
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