The Wolf got up, threw a few things in a small suit-case,
arranged some papers, took off his coat, and stood looking at
Asa. Directly behind him, against the wall, was a large,
old-fashioned wardrobe. Its dark, heavy, walnut doors threw the
lean, muscular figure of the Wolf out as though carved in
granite. He took a step toward the boy, and rolled up his
sleeves.
"Now, young man, I'll attend to you," he said.
Hope died in Asa's heart.
CHAPTER IX
TIMELY AID
When the Wolf, holding fast to Asa's shoulder, slipped into the
shadows of the Park, Beany raced across the asphalt drive and
knelt beside the little Weasel. He lay a crumpled, limp heap,
and at first Beany thought him dead. There was a faint flutter,
however, as Beany felt his heart, and, turning him gently over,
Beany opened his shirt and uncovered the vicious looking wound
where the Wolf's dagger point had entered.
Across the square, an auto stopped, and a familiar figure jumped
out and looked around. Beany joyfully recognized his friend the
Sergeant. He knew that they were hidden by the gateway post so
he whistled. Hen came running toward him.
"Who's this?" he demanded.
"One of them," said Beany. He looked anxiously at the Weasel's
ashen face.
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