“You may have done this yourself,” he told her.  “No doubt you have.  There probably isn’t a corner you haven’t looked into.  But I have a hunch I may find something you missed—­something interesting.”

She followed him closely.  He began at each wall and went over it carefully, looking for possible hiding places.  Then he examined the floor for a loose sapling.  At the end of half an hour his discoveries amounted to nothing.  He gave an exclamation of satisfaction when under an old blanket in a dusty corner he found a Colt army revolver.  But it was empty, and he found no cartridges.  At last there was nothing left to search but the wolf-man’s bunk.  At the bottom of this he found what gave him his first real thrill—­three of the silken snares made from Celie Armin’s hair.

“We won’t touch them,” he said after a moment, replacing the bear skin that had covered them.  “It’s good etiquette up here not to disturb another man’s cache and that’s Bram’s.  I can’t imagine any one but a madman doing that.  And yet—­”

He looked suddenly at Celie.

“Do you suppose he was afraid of you?” he asked her.  “Is that why he doesn’t leave even the butcher-knife in this shack?  Was he afraid you might shoot him in his sleep if he left the temptation in your way?”

A commotion among the wolves drew him to the window.  Two of the beasts were fighting.  While his back was turned Celie entered her room and returned a moment or two later with a handful of loose bits of paper.  The pack held Philip’s attention.  He wondered what chance he would have in an encounter with the beasts which Bram had left behind as a guard.  Even if he killed Bram or made him a prisoner he would still have that horde of murderous brutes to deal with.  If he could in some way induce the wolf-man to bring his rifle into the cabin the matter would be easy.  With Bram out of the way he could shoot the wolves one by one from the window.  Without a weapon their situation would be hopeless.  The pack—­with the exception of one huge, gaunt beast directly under the window—­ had swung around the end of the cabin out of his vision.  The remaining wolf in spite of the excitement of battle was gnawing hungrily at a bone.  Philip could hear the savage grind of its powerful jaws, and all at once the thought of how they might work out their salvation flashed upon him.  They could starve the wolves!  It would take a week, perhaps ten days, but with Bram out of the way and the pack helplessly imprisoned within the corral it could be done.  His first impulse now was to impress on Celie the necessity of taking physical action against Bram.

The sound of his own name turned him from the window with a sudden thrill.