head, he shook it slowly as if in doubt.
Finally, as though decided on his course, he thrust the barrel of his
rifle through the opening and dropped his head as if to aim; when, from
the rear a gray shape catapulted into his back, flattening him on the
snow. As the weight of the dog struck the crouching assassin, his rifle
exploded inside the tent, followed by a scream of terror.

Again and again the long fangs of the husky slashed at the throat of the
writhing thing in the snow. Again and again the massive jaws snapped and
tore, first the capote, then the exposed neck, to ribbons. Then with
cocked rifle the dazed Marcel, waked by the gun fired in his ears,
reached them.

With difficulty dragging his dog from the crumpled shape, Marcel looked,
and from the bloodied face grimacing horribly in death above the mangled
throat, stared the glazed eyes of Joe Piquet.

"By Gar! You travel far for de grub and de _revanche_, Joe Piquet," he
exclaimed. Turning to the dog, snarling with hate of the prowling thing
she had destroyed, Jean led her away.

"Fleur, ma petite!" he cried, "she took good care of Jean Marcel while
he sleep. Piquet, he thought he keel us both in de tent. He nevaire see
Fleur under de fir." The great dog trembling with the heat of battle,
her mane stiff, yelped excitedly. "She love Jean Marcel, my Fleur; and
what a strength she has!" Rearing, Fleur placed her massive fore-paws
on Marcel's chest, whining up into his face; then seizing a hand in her
jaws, proudly drew him back to the dead man in the snow. There, raising
her head, as if in warning to all enemies of her master, she sent out
over the white hills the challenging howl of the husky.

When Jean Marcel had buried the frozen body of Joe Piquet in a drift
over the ridge, where the April thaws would betray him to the mercy of
his kind, the forest creatures of tooth and beak and claw, he started
back to the Ghost with Fleur, taking Piquet's rifle to be returned to
his people with his fur and outfit. Confident that Antoine had had no
part in the attempt to kill him and get his provisions, he wished
Beaulieu to know Piquet's fate, as Antoine would now in all probability
make for Whale River and could carry a message. Furthermore if anything
had by chance happened to Beaulieu, Marcel wished to know it before
starting north.

As Fleur drew him swiftly over the trail, ice-hard from much travelling,
Jean decided that if Antoine wished to fight out the winte