The great dog turned toward Dan and wagged his tail as evidence of good will. But his hackles remained raised as he accompanied the boy into the cabin. The good smell of frying bacon perfumed the air. Standing over the stove, Jeff looked around questioningly. "Isn't that bucket a load for you, Dan?" "Nah! I can carry it." Jeff grinned. Most boys were proud of their physical prowess and he had not offended Dan by offering to draw the water for him. He broke eggs into the sputtering skillet. Pal growled and Jeff turned again to look. "What's ailing him?" "I don't know. He must have smelled something he don't like. When he came up to me, he was running." Pal, knowing that Pete Whitney was coming toward the cabin, retreated to the far end of the room and stood. Still bristling, he showed his teeth. Jeff was puzzled. "What's the--?" "Something's around," Dan said quickly. He looked out of the window. "Jeff! Pete Whitney's coming!" Eyes blazing, he looked toward the shotgun. Jeff saw and interpreted his glance. "Remember! We're not going off half-cocked." "Uh--All right." Jeff opened the door and saw the man standing in front of the cabin. Pete Whitney's clothing was slipshod, but that alone did not give him the air he had. Jeff was not able to place it at once. There was something about him that should not be, something very like a surly animal. About thirty, Pete had fine blond hair that seemed rooted so precariously that the slightest wind might blow it away. His unshaven cheeks were covered with stubble. Pale blue eyes shifted sideways, and he raised a foot as though about to run. Yet, at the same time, it was as though he had no intention of running. As far as Jeff could see, he carried no firearms, but he acted as though he were armed, and doubtless he was. Mentally, Jeff compared him to the man he had met yesterday. That man had also been careless of his clothing and appearance, but there was a strength and character in his being that was not evident in Pete. Barr Whitney was strong. Pete was weak. Jeff asked pleasantly, "Something I can do for you?" "Nao." Pete spoke with a high nasal twang. "You live here?" "Since yesterday," Jeff said. "Dan and I are here together." "I swan!" Pete ejaculated. "I swan!" Jeff saw that he was obviously frightened. In spite of the fact that he seemed to be a man who would take fright easily, he might need help. "Are you in trouble?" "Nao. It's jest that I was passin' up the raoad an'--an'--" He blurted out. "I swan I saw Johnny Blazer's big dog!" Jeff thought swiftly. Why should seeing Johnny Blazer's dog be cause for such alarm? He asked casually, "Where'd you see him?" "Down thar on the raoad! I swan--a ha'nt dog!"