disregarding the inarticulate protest of 'Merican Joe, who laboured
heavily along in his wake, hesitating between two fears, the fear of
being left alone, and the fear of visiting the spot at which had
appeared the fox with the voice of a man.

As Connie reached the rock-ledge he stopped abruptly and stared in
surprise at Leloo. The great wolf-dog's nose quivered, and his yellow
eyes were fixed with a peculiar glare upon a small irregular hole
beneath a projecting lip of rock--a hole just big enough to admit the
body of the fox. Even as the boy looked, the long hairs of Leloo's
great ruff stiffened, and stood quiveringly erect, a low growl rumbled
deep in the dog's throat, and with a curious tense stiffness of
movement, he began to back slowly from the hole. Never for an instant
did the low throaty growl cease, nor did the fixed yellow eyes leave the
black aperture. Not until he had backed a full twenty feet from the hole
did the dog's tense muscles relax and then his huge brush of a tail
drooped, the hair of his ruff flattened, and he turned and trotted down
the back trail, pausing only once to cast a hang-dog glance up the
slope.

Connie was conscious of a strange chill at the pit of his stomach. Why
had Leloo, the very embodiment of savage courage, backed away from that
hole with every muscle tense, and why had he hit the back trail
displaying every evidence of abject terror? The boy had seen him run
foxes to earth before, and he had never acted like that. He had always
torn at the edges of the hole with fang and claw. A hundred times more
terrifying than even the fox with the strange human cry, was the action
of the wolf-dog. Without moving from his tracks, the boy examined the
rock-ledge. It was probably twenty feet in length, and not more than
four or five feet high, and he saw at a glance that the small irregular
hole was the only aperture in the mass of solid rock. His eyes swept the
surrounding hillside but with the exception of numerous fox tracks that
led to and from the hole, the surface of the snow was unbroken.

The sunlight had disappeared from the crest of the hill. On the lower
levels the fast deepening twilight was rendering objects
indistinguishable, when Connie turned to 'Merican Joe, who presented a
pitiable picture of terror. "Let's go," he said, shortly. "We'll have a
moon tonight. We can travel till we get tired."

And 'Merican Joe without waiting for a second invitation struck off down
the