mp that night both he and Peter feasted
on fresh meat. This broke down the last of Peter's suspicion, and
Breault laid a hand on his head. He did not particularly like the feel
of the hand, but he tolerated it, and Breault grunted aloud, with a
note of commendation in his hard voice.

"A one-man dog--never anything else."

Half a dozen times during the day Peter had found the scent of Nada and
Roger where they had come ashore, and from this night on he associated
Breault as a necessary agent in his search for them. And with Breault
he went, instinctively guessing the truth.

The next day they found where Nada and McKay had abandoned the canoe,
and had struck south through the wilderness. This pleased Breault, who
was tired of his poling. This third night there was a new moon, and
something about it stirred in Peter an impulse to run ahead and
overtake those he was seeking. But a still strong instinct held him to
Breault.

Tonight Breault slept like a dead man on his cedar boughs. He was up
and had a fire built an hour before dawn, and with the first gray
streaking of day was on the trail again. He made no further effort to
follow signs of the pursued, for that was a hopeless task. But he knew
how McKay was heading, and he traveled swiftly, figuring to cover twice
the distance that Nada might travel in the same given time. It was
three o'clock in the afternoon when he came to a great ridge, and on
its highest pinnacle he stopped.

Peter had grown restless again, and a little more suspicious of
Breault. He was not afraid of him, but all that day he had found no
scent of Nada or Jolly Roger, and slowly the conviction was impinging
itself upon him that he should seek for himself in the wilderness.

Breault saw this restlessness, and understood it.

"I'll keep my eye on the dog," he thought. "He has a nose, and an
uncanny sixth sense, and I haven't either. He will bear watching. I
believe McKay and the girl cannot be far away. Possibly they have
traveled more slowly than I thought, and haven't passed this ridge; or
it may be they are down there, in the plain. If so I should catch sign
of smoke or fire--in time."

For an hour he kept watch over the plain through his binoculars,
seeking for a wisp of smoke that might rise at any time over the
treetops. He did not lose sight of Peter, questing out in widening
circles below him. And then, quite unexpectedly, something happened. In
the edge of a tiny meadow an eighth of