But presently they wearied of yelping at him and went away.

After that the silence, broken only by the wind as it roared and lulled, seemed beautiful to Slone.

He lost completely that sense of vague regret which had remained with him, and he forgot the Stewarts.
And suddenly he felt absolutely free, alone, with nothing behind to remember, with wild, thrilling, nameless life before him.

Just then the long mourn of a timber wolf wailed in with the wind.

Seldom had he heard the cry of one of those night wanderers.