ruff seemed to swell to twice its size,
and the hair along its spine bristled menacingly.

They had stopped opposite a patch of timber taller than any they had
passed, the tops of the trees being visible between the gusts of
whirling snow. "Moose or a bear in there," ventured Connie. "Let's go
get him."

'Merican Joe shook his head. "No. Leloo, he ketch de man scent. He ain'
ac' lak dat for moose an' bear."

"Man scent! What would any men be doing up here?"

The Indian shrugged. "Hunt, trap, mebbe-so prospeck. Com' on, le's go.
It ain' no good we go in dere." He paused and pointed to the dog. "Bad
mans in dere--Leloo, he know. Bad mans smells one way--good mans smells
anudder way. Leloo ain' git mad for good mans."

"We can't go away and leave them," Connie answered. "They may be out of
luck--may need help."

Again 'Merican Joe shrugged, but offered no further objection, and
releasing Leloo from his harness the two followed him into the timber. A
short distance back from the edge they came upon a rude log cabin,
glaringly the work of inexperienced builders. No tracks were seen about
the door, and no smoke rose from the stovepipe that served as a chimney.
'Merican Joe pushed open the door.

"It's 'bout time you was comin'--an' me crippled," came a petulant voice
from the bed. "But what do you care--" The voice ceased suddenly, and
'Merican Joe sprang back from the doorway so swiftly that he knocked
Connie into the snow. As the boy picked up himself he again heard the
voice. "Git out of here, you thievin' Injun or I'll blow yer head off!"

Ignoring the protest of 'Merican Joe, Connie thrust his head in at the
doorway. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, sharply. "Are you
crazy?"

The man in the bed stared a moment and with seeming reluctance lowered
his rifle. "Who're you?" he asked, sullenly. "If you want grub y're out
of luck. We ain't got none to spare--an' I got a rifle here that says
you don't git none of it." Involuntarily, Connie's glance swept the
supplies piled along the walls and upon the shelves, and estimated a
four-man outfit.

"How many of you are there?" he asked. "And why haven't you got a fire?"

"They's two of us, an' I ain't got no fire 'cause my partner ain't
showed up to build none. I'm crippled--sunk an ax in my foot a couple
days back."

"Where is your partner?"

"I dunno. He went to look at the traps yesterday an' he ain't got back
yet." He noticed the snow clinging to Connie's