."

"But the one you trapped--how do you know that it was the same one?
There's lots of foxes over there."

"Yes, I trap odder wans, too. Kin tell de fox dat yell. He wear de
collar."

"Wears a collar!" cried the boy. "What do you mean? Are you crazy?"

"No. He _tamahnawus_ fox. He wear de collar."

"What kind of a collar?"

"Ermine skin collar--always he got it on."

"Look here," exclaimed Connie, shortly. "Are you lying to me? Do you
expect me to sit here and believe any such rot as that? Did you save the
collars? I want to look at 'em."

"De collar, an de skin, dey on de _cache_ at de end of dat lak'."

"What do you leave the black fox skins out there for, they're worth a
lot?"

The Indian shrugged. "I ain' want for mak' de _tamahnawus_ mad. I put de
skin an' de collar under de blankets on de _cache_."

"Are they there now?"

The Indian shrugged. "I ain' know dat. Mebbe-so _tamahnawus_ fox com'
an' git he's skin an' he's leetle w'ite collar an' wear um agin."

"But you've been to the _cache_ lately. There was grub on it that hadn't
been there more than a month at the most."

"Yes. I got bad luck w'en I kill dem fox, so I build de _cache_ an' mak'
de _tamahnawus_ de present. All de tam I tak' mor' grub, an' now I ain'
got de bad luck."

For a long time Connie was silent as he went over in his mind step by
step the happenings at the lake where 'Merican Joe had set the fox
traps. Then he thought over what Pierre Bonnet Rouge had told him, but
instead of clearing things up, the Indian's words had only served to
deepen the mystery of the fox that yelled like a man. Suddenly the boy
remembered the action of Pierre when McTavish had asked him if he knew
anything about James Dean, the missing prospector. He glanced at the
Indian who was puffing his pipe in silence, and decided to risk another
direct question although he knew that in all probability Pierre Bonnet
Rouge would relapse into a stubborn muteness; for in matters touching
upon his superstitions, the Indian is a man of profound silence. "I
won't be any worse off than I am, now," thought the boy, "if he don't
say another word--so here goes." He addressed the Indian gravely.

"Pierre," he began, watching the man narrowly to note the effect of his
words, "you know I am a friend of yours, and a friend of the Indians. I
gave them meat, and I saved them from being robbed by the
_hooch_-runners." The Indian nodded, and Connie felt encouraged to
proceed.