curious markings--evidently tracks. Yan pored over them, then made a
life-size drawing of one. He shrewdly suspected it to be the track of
a Coon--nothing was too good or wild or rare for his valley. As soon
as he could, he showed the track to the stableman whose dog was said
to have killed a Coon once, and hence the man must be an authority on
the subject.

"Is that a Coon track?" asked Yan timidly.

"How do I know?" said the man roughly, and went on with his work. But
a stranger standing near, a curious person with shabby clothes, and
a new silk hat on the back of his head, said, "Let me see it." Yan
showed it.

"Is it natural size?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yep, that's a Coon track, all right. You look at all the big trees
near about whar you saw that; then when you find one with a hole in
it, you look on the bark and you will find some Coon hars. Then you
will know you've got a Coon tree."

[Illustration: The Coon track]

Yan took the earliest chance. He sought and found a great Basswood
with some gray hairs caught in the bark. He took them home with him,
not sure what kind they were. He sought the stranger, but he was gone,
and no one knew him.