ing
a sound.

So it came to pass, after a time, that when Peter heard footsteps
approaching the cabin he made no effort to reveal himself until he knew
it was Jolly Roger who was coming. And this was strangely in spite of
the fact that in the five weeks since Nada had brought him from Cragg's
Ridge no one but Jolly Roger and Nada had set foot within sight of the
shack. It was an inborn caution, growing stronger in him each day. There
came one early evening when Peter made a discovery. He had returned with
Jolly Roger from a fishing trip farther down the creek, and scarcely had
he set nose to the little clearing about the cabin when he caught the
presence of a strange scent. He investigated it swiftly, and found it
all about the cabin, and very strong close up against the cabin door.
There were no doubts in Peter's mind. A man had been there, and this man
had gone around and around the cabin, and had opened the door, and had
even gone inside, for Peter found the scent of him on the floor. He
tried, in a way, to tell Jolly Roger. He bristled, and whined, and
looked searchingly into the darkening edge of the forest. Jolly Roger
quested with him for a few moments, and when he failed to find marks in
the ground he began cleaning a fish for supper, and said.

"Probably a wolverine, Pied-Bot. The rascal came to see what he could
find while we were away."

But Peter was not satisfied. He was restless all that night. Sounds
which had been familiar now held a new significance for him. The next
day he was filled with a quiet but brooding expectancy. He resented
the intrustion of the strange footprints. It was, in his process of
instinctive reasoning, an encroachment upon the property rights of his
master, and he was--true to the law of his species--the guardian of
those rights.

The fourth evening after the stranger's visit to the cabin Jolly Roger
was later than usual in returning from 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