After the men had eaten their supper, they lighted their pipes and started talking. One of the strangers talked about horses for some time. He said that he was from Texas. He was a tall, slender, lantern jawed man with small black eyes and he had the habit of blinking. The other stranger was a short, rolly polly fellow with fat hands and a face like a sunflower. His cheeks, upper lip and chin were shaved but the rest of his face was covered with the most luxuriant red beard I had ever seen. The beard was what gave his face the appearance of a sunflower. A thick thatch of red hair covered his head.
    Mr. McIntyre was a genial host and every inch of a gentleman. He was about six feet tall, had dark hair and friendly dark blue eyes. Tiring of the horseman’s conversation, he asked Anthony to tell a story. “Come Anthony, my boy, liven up this party with a story,” he commanded.
    Anthony did not feel like telling a story, yet a request from his employer could not be ignored. He sat in deep thought for a minute or two before he began.
    “A very queer thing happened to me today and as there are three intelligent men present and philosophy is something that I have never studied, perhaps you can help me explain the case. I caught a small pig out in the corn patch and having a pail in my hand, I put the pig in the pail. He fitted the pail very snuggly. When I reached the barnyard, I took him out and put him in the pen. Then I filled the pail with swill and fed it to him. He never stopped eating until he had taken the last drop in the pail. When he had finished, I put him back in the Dail, which held him very nicely. How do you figure that out?”
    After a long silence as the men sat there thinking, Mr. McIntyre said, “that is some-thing like your experience with the wolves, tell us that story.”