over his shoulder. By this time he was desperately hungry, and the
prospect of the first venison since his exile stirred his pulses,
and gave to the bright scene a cheerful beauty it had not before
worn to his homesick heart. He trudged up to the narrow door of the
dugout which was closed, just as he had left it, and having carried
a noble haunch of venison to the pool to be washed, he descended the
dirt steps and set the door to one side. Without at first
understanding why, he became instantly aware that some one had been
there during his absence.

Of course, as soon as his eyes could penetrate the semi-gloom
sufficiently to distinguish small objects, he saw the proof; but
even before that, the air seemed tingling with some strange
personality. He stood like a statue, gazing fixedly. His alert
eyes, always on guard, had assured him that the cove was deserted-
-there was no use to look behind him. Whoever had been there must
have scaled the mountain, and had either crossed to the plain on the
north, or was hiding behind the rocks. What held his eyes to the
stove was a heap of tobacco, and a clay pipe beside it. Among the
stores removed from the wagon, tobacco had been found in generous
quantity, but during the month now elapsed, bad been sadly reduced.
Willock, however, was not pleased to find the new supply; on the
contrary his emotions were confused and alarmed. Had the tobacco
been ten times as much, it could not have solaced him for the
knowledge that the dugout had been visited.

After a few minutes of immobility, he entered, placed the meat on
a box, and departed softly, closing the door behind him. Casting
apprehensive glances along the mountainside, he stole toward it,
and made his way up the gully, completely hidden by the straggling