ed, he turned back the light, looking like some
dancing will-o'-the-wisp as he directed it here and there, greatly to
the puzzlement of Piter, to whom it was something new.

He tugged at the stout leathern thong once or twice, but I held on and
he ceased, contenting himself with a low uneasy whine now and then, and
looking up to me with his great protruding eyes, as if for an
explanation.

"Now let's have a look round upwards," said Uncle Dick. "I'm glad the
men have left so few of their traps here. Cob, my lad, you need not
hold that dog. Take the swivel off his collar and let him go. He can't
get away."

"Besides," said Uncle Bob, "this is to be his home."

I stooped down and unhooked the spring swivel, to Piter's great delight,
which he displayed by scuffling about our feet, trying to get himself
trodden upon by all in turn, and ending by making a rush at the
bull's-eye lantern, and knocking his head against the round glass.

"Pretty little creature!" said Uncle Bob. "Well, I should have given
him credit for more sense than a moth."

Piter growled as if he were dissatisfied with the result, and then his
hideous little crinkled black nose was seen as he smelt the lantern all
round, and, apparently gratified by the odour of the oil, he licked his
black lips.

"Now then, upstairs," said Uncle Dick, leading the way with the lantern.
But as soon as the light fell upon the flight of stone stairs Piter
went to the front with a rush, his claws pattered on the stones, and he
was up at the top waiting for us, after giving a scratch at a rough
door, his ugly countenance looking down curiously out of the darkness.

"Good dog!" said Uncle Dick as he reached the landing and unlatched the
door.

Piter squeezed himself through almost before the door was six inches
open, and the next moment he burst into a furious deep-mouthed bay.

"Someone there!" cried Uncle Dick, and he rushed in, lantern in hand, to
make the light play round, while my uncles changed the hold of their
stout sticks, holding them cudgel fashion ready for action.

The light rested directly on the face and chest of a man sitting up
between a couple of rusty lathes, where a quantity of straw had been
thrown down, and at the first glimpse it was evident that the dog had
just aroused him from a heavy sleep.

His eyes were half-closed, bits of oat straw were sticking in his short
dark hair, and glistened like fragments of pale gold in the light cast
b