developed inside Peter's head, the flesh and blood development of
his big, gentle, soft-footed Mackenzie hound mother kept pace in
his body. His legs and feet began to lose their grotesqueness.
Flesh began to cover the knots in his tail. His head, bristling
fiercely with wiry whiskers, seemed to pause for a space to give
his lanky body a chance to catch up with it. And in spite of his
big feet, so clumsy that a few weeks ago they had stumbled over
everything in his way, he could now travel without making a sound.

So it came to pass, after a time, that when Peter heard footsteps
approaching the cabin he made no effort to reveal himself until he
knew it was Jolly Roger who was coming. And this was strangely in
spite of the fact that in the five weeks since Nada had brought
him from Cragg's Ridge no one but Jolly Roger and Nada had set
foot within sight of the shack. It was an inborn caution, growing
stronger in him each day. There came one early evening when Peter
made a discovery. He had returned with Jolly Roger from a fishing
trip farther down the creek, and scarcely had he set nose to the
little clearing about the cabin when he caught the presence of a
strange scent. He investigated it swiftly, and found it all about
the cabin, and very strong close up against the cabin door. There
were no doubts in Peter's mind. A man had been there, and this man
had gone around and around the cabin, and had opened the door, and
had even gone inside, for Peter found the scent of him on the
floor. He tried, in a way, to tell Jolly Roger. He bristled, and
whined, and looked searchingly into the darkening edge of the
forest. Jolly Roger quested with him for a few moments, and when
he failed to find marks in the ground he began cleaning a fish for
supper, and said.