It seemed so easy.  Like a healthy boy, Dell had an ambition to be a fearless rider and crack roper.  During the week which followed, in the saddle or at leisure, the boy never tired of practicing with a rope, while the patient man called attention to several wrist movements which lent assistance in forming a perfect loop.  The slightest success was repeated to perfection; unceasing devotion to a task masters it, and before the visit ended, the perfect oval poised in the air and the rope seemingly obeyed the hand of Dell Wells.

“It’s all right to master these little details of the cattle business,” said Priest to Dell, “but don’t play them as lead cards.  Keep them up your sleeve, as a private accomplishment, for your own personal use.  These fancy riders and ropers are usually Sunday men.  When I make up an outfit for the trail, I never insist on any special attainments.  Just so he’s good natured, and no danger of a rainy night dampening the twinkle in his eye, that’s the boy for me.  Then if he can think a little, act quick, clear, and to the point, I wouldn’t care if he couldn’t rope a cow in a month.”

In considering the lines of resistance, the possibility of annoyance from wolves was not overlooked.  There was an abundance of suet in the beef, several vials of strychnine had been provided, and a full gallon of poisoned tallow was prepared in event of its needs.  While Joel was away after the last load of corn, several dozen wooden holders were prepared, two-inch auger holes being sunk to the depth of five or six inches, the length of a wolf’s tongue, and the troughs charred and smoked of every trace of human scent.

That the boys might fully understand the many details, the final instructions were delayed until Joel’s return.  “Always bear in mind that a wolf is a wary beast,” admonished Priest, “and match your cunning against his.  Make no mistake, take no chances, for you’re dealing with a crafty enemy.  About the troughs on the ground, surrounding the bait, every trace of human scent must be avoided.  For that reason, you must handle the holder with a spear or hay fork, and if you have occasion to dismount, to refill a trough, carry a board to alight on, remembering to lower and take it up by rope, untouched even by a gloved hand.  The scent of a horse arouses no suspicion; in fact, it is an advantage, as it allays distrust.”

In loading a bait, an object lesson was given, using unpoisoned suet.  “After throwing off all suspicion,” continued Priest, illustrating the process, “the next thing is to avoid an overdose.  An overdose acts as an emetic, and makes a wise wolf.  For that reason, you must pack the tallow in the auger hole, filling from a half to two thirds full.  Force Mr. Wolf to lick it out, administer the poison slowly, and you are sure of his scalp.  You will notice I have bored the hole in solid wood, to prevent gnawing, and you must pack the suet firmly, to prevent spilling, as a crafty wolf will roll a trough over and over to dislodge the bait.  Keep your holders out in the open, exposed to the elements, scald the loading tools before using, and you have the upper hand of any wolves that may molest your cattle.”