across which Jolly Roger would come from Cragg's Ridge.

There was still half an hour of daylight when Jolly Roger arrived.
Peter did not, as usual, run to the edge of the bank to meet him.
He remained sitting stolidly on his haunches, with his ears
flattened, and in his whole attitude no sign of gladness at his
master's coming. With every instinct of caution developed to the
highest degree within him, Jolly Roger was lightning quick to
observe the significance of small things. He spoke to Peter,
caressed him with his hand, and moved on along the foot-trail
toward the cabin. Peter fell in behind him moodily, and after a
few moments stopped, and squatted on his haunches again. Jolly
Roger was puzzled.

"What is it, Peter?" he asked. "Are you afraid of that wolverine--
"

Peter whined softly; but even as he whined, his ears were flat,
and his eyes filled with a red light as they glared down the trail
beyond the outlaw. Jolly Roger turned and went on, until he
disappeared around a twist in the path. There he stopped, and
peered back. Peter was not following him, but still sat where he
had left him. A quicker breath came to Jolly Roger's lips, and he
went back to Peter. For fully a minute he stood beside him,
watching and listening, and not once did the reddish glare in
Peter's eyes leave the direction of the cabin. Jolly Roger's eyes
had grown very bright, and suddenly he dropped on his knees beside
Peter, and spoke softly, close up to his flattened ear.

"You say it isn't a wolverine, Peter? Is that what you're trying