After that the Police kept an even closer watch on
him, waiting, and expecting something to happen. And then--the
something came. Bram killed a man. He did it so neatly and so
easily, breaking him as he might have broken a stick, that he was
well off in flight before it was discovered that his victim was
dead. The next tragedy followed quickly--a fortnight later, when
Corporal Lee and a private from the Fort Churchill barracks closed
in on him out on the edge of the Barren. Bram didn't fire a shot.
They could hear his great, strange laugh when they were still a
quarter of a mile away from him. Bram merely set loose his wolves.
By a miracle Corporal Lee lived to drag himself to a half-breed's
cabin, where he died a little later, and the half-breed brought
the story to Fort Churchill.
After this, Bram disappeared from the eyes of the world. What he
lived in those four or five years that followed would well be
worth his pardon if his experiences could be made to appear
between the covers of a book. Bram--AND HIS WOLVES! Think of it.
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