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513 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1938
“Pore thing,” Penny said. “Hurt and lonesome. Come visiting its nighest kin to pick a play.”
Perhaps the sibilance of their whispers reached beyond the closed window or their scent drifted to the wolf’s nose. Soundlessly, it turned, left the dogs and clambered with difficultly over the fence and was gone into the night.
Jody asked, “Will it do harm here?”
Penny stretched out his feet to the embers on the hearth. “I mis-doubt it’s in shape to catch itself a square meal. I’d not dream of bothering it. A bear’ll finish it, or a panther. Leave it live out the rest of its life.”
They squatted together by the hearth, caught up in the sadness and the strangeness. It was a harsh thing, even for a wolf, to be so alone that it must turn to the yard of its enemy for companionship. Jody laid his arm across Flag.