And it was an early autumn morning, a few days after the wedding, that the bars of the lower meadow fence were found down, and Mother Girard again discovered that one of the Jerseys, straying or driven out under cover of the timber, had been milked. The impressions were still fresh on the dew and the teacher joined Mose in search of the trespasser. This time the track skirted the jungle, and, rounding the slope, entered the canyon, where they met a beaten path leading from the upper end of Stratton’s quarter-section. The river was bridged there by a fallen tree, below which it widened into a ford, and this new trail wound up the precipitous side of the gorge, some distance beyond the cliff that was capped by the leaning tower. The footprints took that direction. Suddenly they both stopped and stood looking up at the stronghold. Then they turned to each other. A line of smoke, rising behind the tower, marked a camp-fire. "But," she said at last, "if he wants milk he must ask me for it." And she started bravely up the side of the canyon. Mose pressed after her closely. Finally he said, "It ees bes’ you let me go firs’, Mees. He ees have one good gun, for sure." She swung around. "Isn’t it Slocum?" Mose shook his head. "No, Slocum doan’ come roun’ dis ranch some more. Monjee, he’s too mooch ’fraid to stop roun’ here. But Pete Smith, he doan’ care, so long he ain’ see Mill." "Pete Smith." She paused, shivering a little, then she laughed. "It’s funny, Mose, how creepy just his name makes me feel. I—I guess I will let you go first—if you aren’t afraid. But wait, what makes you think it is Pete Smith?" "For dat las’ night, when A’m come back wid dose trout I catch down stream, I see heem by Mo’sieur’s plas. Sacré, but he ees going fin’ he ees lose some blankets, an’ flour an’ sugar, ’bout ev’ryt’ing, when he comes home." "You mean Pete had broken into the lodge. Oh, you should have gone directly for Mill Thornton. But you tried to stop him, Mose? You at least warned him that you surely would get word to Mr. Stratton?" Again Mose shook his head. "You mus’ on’stan’ it ees bes’ I let Pete ’lone. He doan’ want me talk to heem dare. Monjee, no. It ees lak I doan’ see heem. Nawitka, I come straight ’way home." He moved his rifle into the curve of his arm, and pushed by Alice, leading on up the bluff, through labyrinths of hazel and alder, up short sections of gullies. Just under the summit he stopped. "I doan’ lak lose dis fine new gun," he said softly, and began to fondle the stock. "She’s mooch more fine dan dat good gun of Pete Smith’s. Nawitka, Mees, mebbe he ees watch us come ’cross de gorge. Mebbe he ees goin’ have one drop on us. Den it ees bes’ I leave dis gran’ gun here; you think so, ya-as?