sure done a big thing for the North when you got him."

"I didn't get him, Dan. It was Leloo that got him--look there!"

McKeever stooped again and breaking back the blood-soaked clothing
examined the long deep gash that extended from the man's lower ribs to
the point of his hip. Then he turned and eyed Leloo who stood looking on
with blazing eyes, his great silver ruff a-quiver. "Some dog!" he
exclaimed. "Or is he a dog? Look at them eyes--part dog, part wolf, an'
mostly devil, I'd say. Look out, son, if he ever goes wrong. Black Moran
looks like he'd be'n gashed with a butcher's cleaver! But, at that, you
can't lay all the credit on the dog. He done his share all right, but
the head work--figurin' out jest what Black Moran would do, an' jest
what the dog would do, an' throwin' that chunk at jest the right second
to make 'em do it--that's where the brains an' the nerve comes in----"

"It was mostly luck," interrupted Connie.

The big officer grinned. "Uh-huh," he grunted, "but I've noticed that if
there's about two hundred per cent brains kind of mixed in with the
luck, a man's got a better show of winnin' out in the long run--an'
that's what you do."

"What will we do with him?" asked the boy after McKeever had finished
photographing the body, and the wolf-dog, and Connie, and such of the
surroundings as should be of interest in connection with his report.

"Well, believe me," answered the officer, "I ain't goin' to dig no grave
for him in this frozen ground. We'll jest throw a platform together in
that clump of trees, an' stick him up Injun fashion. I'd cremate him,
like he was goin' to do to you, but he was so doggone tough I don't
believe nothin' would burn but his whiskers, an' besides I don't want to
burn the cabin. It's got a stove, an' it might save some poor fellow's
life sometime."

The early winter darkness had fallen when the work was finished, and
Connie and McKeever decided to wait until morning before striking out
for the village.

After supper the big Inspector filled his pipe and glanced about the
little room. "Seems like old times, son--us bein' on trail together.
Don't you never feel a hankerin' to be back in the service? An' how
comes it you're trappin' way over here? Did you an' Waseche Bill go
broke? If you did, you've always got a job in the service, an' it beats
trappin' at that."

Connie laughed. "You bet, Dan, if I ever need a job I'll hit straight
for you. But the fact is Waseche a