CHAPTER XXVIII.
TRAPPING A WOLF.
When Shirley Roseleaf left the hotel that morning he carried a fishing rod, a rifle, a gamebag and other acoutrements of the sportsman. In his earlier years, before he ever came to the city, he had been accounted something of an expert with these implements. Since being in this country where there was so much to tempt a Nimrod he had made a number of similar excursions. Although it was some distance to the locality where he intended to go the young man did not take a conveyance of any kind. He walked briskly over the road, breathing the pure air of that early hour, and whistling in a low tone to himself as he went along.
Among the other things he carried was a light lunch, for he did not care to break his fast so early in the day. He had, besides, a c
