and," she answered in a low voice. "They
would fight for me. I have seen them tear a wolf-pack into shreds. And
I have called them back from the throat of a wind-run deer, so that not
a hair of her was harmed. But, Philip, I guess that sometimes mistakes
were made in the creation of things. They have a brain. But it isn't
REASON!"

"You mean--" he cried.

"That you, a man, unarmed, alone, are still their master," she
interrupted him. "In the face of reason they are powerless. See, there
comes Metoosin with the frozen fish! What if he were a stranger and the
fish were poisoned?"

"I understand," he replied. "But others drive them besides you?"

"Only those very near to the family. Twenty of them are used in the
traces. The others are my companions--my bodyguard, I call them."

Metoosin approached them now, weighted down under a heavy load in a
gunny-sack, and Philip believed that he recognized in the silent Indian
the man whom he had first seen at the door of Adare House with a rifle
in his hands. At a few commands from Josephine the dogs gathered about
them, and Metoosin opened the bag.

"I want you to throw them the fish, Philip," said Josephine. "Their
brains comprehend the hand that feeds them. It is a sort of pledge of
friendship between you and them."

With Metoosin she drew a dozen steps back, and Philip found that he had
become the centre of interest for the pack. One by one he pulled out
the fish. Snapping jaws met the frozen feast in midair. There was no
fighting--no vengeful jealousy of fang. Once when a gray and yellow
husky snapped at a fish already in the jaws of another, Josephine
reprimanded him sharply, and at the sound of his name he slunk back.
One by one Philip threw out the fish until they were all gone. Then he
stood and looked down upon the flat-bellied pack, listening to the
crunching of bones and frozen flesh, and Josephine came and stood
beside him again.

Suddenly he felt her start. He looked up, and saw that her face was
turned down the trail. He had caught the quick change in her eyes, the
swift tenseness that flashed for an instant in her mouth. The vivid
colour in her face had paled. She looked again as he had seen her for
that short space at the door in Miriam's room. He followed the
direction of her eyes.

A hundred yards away two figures were advancing toward them. One was
her father, the master of Adare. And on his arm was Miriam his wife.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The st