"M'sieu, you go to ze cabin."

He held the gate open, and Philip entered. He paused to make
certain of Bram's intention. The wolf-man swept an arm about the
enclosure.

"In ze pit I loose ze wolve, m'sieu."

Philip understood. The stockade enclosure was Bram's wolf-pit, and
Bram meant that he should reach the cabin before he gave the pack
the freedom of the corral. He tried to conceal the excitement in
his face as he turned toward the cabin. From the gate to the door
ran a path worn by many footprints, and his heart beat faster as
he noted the smallness of the moccasin tracks. Even then his mind
fought against the possibility of the thing. Probably it was an
Indian woman who lived with Bram, or an Eskimo girl he had brought
down from the north.

He made no sound as he approached the door. He did not knock, but
opened it and entered, as Bram had invited him to do.

From the gate Bram watched the cabin door as it closed behind him,
and then he threw back his head and such a laugh of triumph came
from his lips that even the tired beasts behind him pricked up
their ears and listened.

And Philip, in that same moment, had solved the mystery of the
golden snare.