rom Cragg's Ridge. Peter had been on
a hunting adventure of his own, and came to the cabin at sunset. But he
never came out of cover now without standing quietly for a few moments,
getting the wind, and listening. And tonight, poking his head between
some balsams twenty yards from the shack, he was treated to a sudden
thrill. The cabin door was open. And standing close to this door,
looking quietly and cautiously about, stood a stranger. He was not like
Jed Hawkins, was Peter's first impression. He was tall, with a
wide-brimmed hat, and wore boots with striped trousers tucked into
them, and on his coat were bits of metal which caught the last gleams
of the sun. Peter knew nothing of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police.
But he sensed danger, and he remained very quiet, without moving a
muscle of his head or body, while the stranger looked about, with a
hand on his unbuttoned pistol holster. Not until he entered the cabin,
and closed the door after him, did Peter move back into the deeper
gloom of the forest. And then, silent as a fox, he skulked through
cover to the foot-trail, and down the trail to the ford, across which
Jolly Roger would come from Cragg's Ridge.

There was still half an hour of daylight when Jolly Roger arrived.
Peter did not, as usual, run to the edge of the bank to meet him. He
remained sitting stolidly on his haunches, with his ears flattened, and
in his whole attitude no sign of gladness at his master's coming. With
every instinct of caution developed to the highest degree within him,
Jolly Roger was lightning quick to observe the significance of small
things. He spoke to Peter, caressed him with his hand, and moved on
along the foot-trail toward the cabin. Peter fell in behind him
moodily, and after a few moments stopped, and squatted on his haunches
again. Jolly Roger was puzzled.

"What is it, Peter?" he asked. "Are you afraid of that wolverine--"

Peter whined softly; but even as he whined, his ears were flat, and his
eyes filled with a red light as they glared down the trail beyond the
outlaw. Jolly Roger turned and went on, until he disappeared around a
twist in the path. There he stopped, and peered back. Peter was not
following him, but still sat where he had left him. A quicker breath
came to Jolly Roger's lips, and he went back to Peter. For fully a
minute he stood beside him, watching and listening, and not once did
the reddish glare in Peter's eyes leave the direction of the cabin.
Jo