“I never mean to,” said Jerry, holding up a piece of gray fur.

“That’s wolf, all right; and look here, what did you do to him?” demanded Mr. Mabie.

“I was very kind to the scamp, and hung him up in a tree, where the rest of his tribe couldn’t get at him to tear his hide to pieces.  You see, I had a notion that I’d like to have that skin for a rug, and that later on, perhaps, one of the boys might go out with me and remove it much better than I could,” grinned Jerry.

“Thank you, my lad.  I feel that you’ve done me a favor.  Every wolf that goes across the Great Divide means more calves to grow up; and you shall have your rug, I pledge you my word.”

Mr. Mabie shook the hand of the successful wolf hunter with emphasis, showing that he felt deeply on the subject.

Just as he expected, Frank was still rather sore on the following day.  He let the others do the hunting that morning, Will tagging behind the bunch with his ready camera.

They came in at noon, having covered some new ground, and brought the best part of an elk with them.  Mr. Mabie laughed, and wished it might have been an antelope instead.  He was not partial to elk meat, which was perhaps natural in a stockman, who could kill young beef whenever the spirit moved.

“How about that bear den, Reddy?” asked Jerry, as they lounged about the camp in the early afternoon.

“Any time you say the word.  I was only waitin’ till Frank felt himself again,” was the other’s reply.

“Oh, don’t let my condition keep you from that little entertainment.  Besides, I feel much better now.  Perhaps a little excitement might put me in just the right kind of trim,” declared that individual promptly.

“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Bluff, making a pretense of clapping his hands.

“Talk to me about your dyed-in-the-wool sportsman!  Frank, here, could give any fellow points,” declared Jerry.

“I understand the principle he works on.  It’s the same as what they call homoepathy, that ‘like cures like.’  I’ve seen a man, when struck by a rattler, chase the reptile, kill him, and apply his crushed body to the wound, in the belief that one poison would counteract the other,” said the stockman.

“Did it succeed?” asked Jerry, eager for information along these lines.

“Well,” said Mr. Mabie, “the poor chap died, I’m sorry to say.  In another case, the fellow insisted on filling himself up with whiskey.  He lived through it, too, which proved the rule, though I believe there are better things to save a man than liquor.  But Frank has the right idea.  The excitement of the chase will cause him to forget, and take some of the stiffness out of his joints.”

“Then we go this afternoon?” queried Reddy anxiously.

“Whenever you’re ready,” answered Frank.

They set out within half an hour.  Of course, the whole four chums insisted on being in the party.  Besides, there were the guide, Mr. Mabie and Billy.  Each of the cowboys carried his rope, for of late it had seemed as though a lariat might be a very necessary accompaniment to these side hunts.