“Stopped for one look, and then one jump into the brush and away he went.” Westley was almost convinced; he turned to call Reck, with some curious and half-formed notion that he might catechize the dog himself. But when he turned, he found Reck at his side; and the setter was standing steadily, legs stiff and proud like a dog on show, eyes fixed on Proutt. There was no guilt in his attitude; nor was there accusation. There was only steady pride and self-respect; and Westley, at sight of him, could not believe this damning thing. He said slowly: “Look at him, Proutt. If this were true, he’d be ashamed, and crawling. You saw some other dog.” Proutt shook his head. “He’s a wise, bold dog, is Reck. Wise as you and me. He’ll face it out if he can.” Westley pulled himself together, dropping one hand on Reck’s head. “I don’t believe it, Proutt,” he said. “But I’m going to make sure.” “I am sure,” said Proutt. “You can do as you please. But don’t ask me to keep my mouth shut. You was quick enough to shoot Jackson’s dog when you caught her on that doe.” “I know,” said Westley; and his face was white. “I’ll be as quick with Reck, when I’m sure.” “You’ll take pains not to get sure.” Westley held his voice steady. “Did you ever have to call Reck off deer tracks?” “No.” “Then he’s never been taught not to run them?” “Neither had Jackson’s dog.” “What I mean,” said Westley, “is this. He doesn’t know it’s wrong to run deer.” “That’s no excuse.” “I’m not excusing him.” Proutt swore. “Well, what are you doing?” “I’m going to take him into the swamp and find a deer,” said Westley slowly. “See what he does. He’s never been taught not to run them. So he’ll run any that we find. If it’s in him to do it, he’ll take after them--” Proutt nodded; and there was a certain triumph in his eyes. “You take your gun along,” he said. “You’re going to need that gun.” Westley, white and steady, said: “I’ll take the gun. Will you come along?” “Sure.” “Do you know where we can find a deer?” “No; not this time o’ day.” Westley turned toward the house. “Wait,” he said. “I’ll get my gun; and we’ll go pick up Jim Saladine. He’ll know.” Proutt nodded. “I’ll wait,” he agreed. Westley went into the house. Reck stood on the doorstep. Proutt, waiting, watched Reck with a flickering, deadly light in his sullen eyes. IV Saladine listened silently to Westley’s request; but he looked at Proutt with an eye before which Proutt uneasily turned away his head. Nevertheless, being by nature a taciturn man, he made no comment or suggestion. He only said: “I can find a deer.” “Where?” Westley asked. “Over in the Sheepscot,” said Saladine. “I’ve got mine for this season; but I know some hardwood ridges over there where they’re like to be feeding, come evening.” Proutt said uneasily: “Hell, there’s a deer nearer than Sheepscot.” “Where?” Westley asked. “Everywhere.”