oner, dropping a hand to Miki's head.

For half an hour after that MacDonnell told him the things he knew
about Nanette Le Beau. When Challoner rose to go the Factor followed
him to the door.

"Keep your eyes open for Durant," he warned. "That dog is worth more to
him than all his winnings to-day, and they say his stakes were big. He
won heavily from Grouse Piet, but the halfbreed is thick with him now.
I know it. So watch out."

Out in the open space, in the light of the moon and stars, Challoner
stood far a moment with Miki's forepaws resting against his breast. The
dog's head was almost on a level with his shoulders.

"D'ye remember when you fell out of the canoe, Boy?" he asked softly.
"Remember how you 'n' the cub were tied in the bow, an' you got to
scrapping and fell overboard just above the rapids? Remember? By Jove!
those rapids pretty near got ME, too. I thought you were dead,
sure--both of you. I wonder what happened to the cub?"

Miki whined in response, and his whole body trembled.

"And since then you've killed a man," added Challoner, as if he still
could not quite believe. "And I'm to take you back to the woman. That's
the funny thing about it. You're going back to HER, and if she says
kill you--"

He dropped Miki's forefeet and went on to the cabin. At the threshold a
low growl rose in Miki's throat. Challoner laughed, and opened the
door. They went in, and the dog's growl was a menacing snarl. Challoner
had left his lamp burning low, and in the light of it he saw Henri
Durant and Grouse Piet waiting for him. He turned up the wick, and
nodded.

"Good evening. Pretty late for a call, isn't it?"

Grouse Piet's stolid face did not change its expression. It struck
Challoner, as he glanced at him, that in head and shoulders he bore a
grotesque resemblance to a walrus. Durant's eyes were dully ablaze. His
face was swollen where Challoner had struck him. Miki, stiffened to the
hardness of a knot, and still snarling under his breath, had crawled
under Challoner's bunk. Durant pointed to him.

"We've come after that dog," he said.

"You can't have him, Durant," replied Challoner, trying hard to make
himself appear at ease in a situation that sent a chill up his back. As
he spoke he was making up his mind why Grouse Piet had come with
Durant. They were giants, both of them: more than that--monsters.
Instinctively he had faced them with the small table between them. "I'm
sorry I lost my temper out th