s was probably the result of
the silence of the hour and his own restlessness. Then, not loudly, but
distinctly, in spite of its being muffled by the fog, the sound of a
rifle-shot came to his ears.

That settled it for Colin. If there was anything going on in the way of
sport he wanted a share in it, and as he was wide awake, he decided to
follow up and see what was going on. He slipped into his clothes as
quickly as possible and tiptoed his way down the rickety stairs. But
before he had gone many steps an unaccustomed thought of prudence struck
him, and he walked back to a house three or four doors from where he had
been staying, the home, indeed, of the villager who had given him the
pet fox, and in which Hank had taken up quarters. He knocked on the
window and immediately Hank appeared.

"What is it?" he queried. "Oh, it's you, Colin. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I was," the boy answered, and in a few words he told how he had seen
the native go by with a gun and a lantern and had heard the shot fired a
few minutes ago.

"Sounds like smugglin'," the old whaler said, after a minute's thought.
"Well, there's no great harm in that. That is, I don't think so, though
the gov'nment chaps might say different."

"Smuggling?" queried Colin; "poaching. Do you mean seal-poaching? Oh,
come along, Hank, and let's find out."

"What's the use of huntin' trouble?" said the old man. "Go back to bed."

"Not much," retorted the boy; "if you don't want to come, I'll go,
anyway."

"If you're goin' anyway," grumbled the old whaler, "I reckon it's no use
my sayin' anythin' to stop you. But I s'pose," he added, and he was
secretly as curious as the boy, "I'd better go along with you to see
that you don't get into any more mischief than you have to."

"You're coming, then?" asked Colin impatiently.

"I'll be right out," the other answered, and he had hardly disappeared
from the window when he appeared at the door. He slipped a revolver
into his pocket and handed another to Colin.

"I've got a gun," the boy said.

"All right," responded Hank, "I'll pack this one along, too," and he
slipped it into one of the pockets of his big reefer.

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they had passed the end
of the village, and then Hank put his hand on the boy's arm.

"You've got a right hunch," he said abruptly, in a low voice. "There's
somethin' in the wind."

"What makes you think so?" asked Colin.

The other pointed vaguely