lying on the yams.

"That proves it. The rope-yarn's cut. The knot's still in it. Now what
nigger is responsible?"

He looked about at the circle of dark faces, flashing the light on them,
and such was the accusation and anger in his eyes, that all eyes fell
before his or looked away.

"If only the pup could speak," he complained. "He'd tell who it was."

He bent suddenly down to Jerry, who was standing as close against his
legs as he could, so close that his wet forepaws rested on Skipper's bare
feet.

"You know 'm, Jerry, you known the black fella boy," he said, his words
quick and exciting, his hand moving in questing circles toward the
blacks.

Jerry was all alive on the instant, jumping about, barking with short
yelps of eagerness.

"I do believe the dog could lead me to him," Van Horn confided to the
mate. "Come on, Jerry, find 'm, sick 'm, shake 'm down. Where is he,
Jerry? Find 'm. Find 'm."

All that Jerry knew was that Skipper wanted something. He must find
something that Skipper wanted, and he was eager to serve. He pranced
about aimlessly and willingly for a space, while Skipper's urging cries
increased his excitement. Then he was struck by an idea, and a most
definite idea it was. The circle of boys broke to let him through as he
raced for'ard along the starboard side to the tight-lashed heap of trade-
boxes. He put his nose into the opening where the wild-dog laired, and
sniffed. Yes, the wild-dog was inside. Not only did he smell him, but
he heard the menace of his snarl.

He looked up to Skipper questioningly. Was it that Skipper wanted him to
go in after the wild-dog? But Skipper laughed and waved his hand to show
that he wanted him to search in other places for something else.

He leaped away, sniffing in likely places where experience had taught him
cockroaches and rats might be. Yet it quickly dawned on him that it was
not such things Skipper was after. His heart was wild with desire to
serve, and, without clear purpose, he began sniffing legs of black boys.

This brought livelier urgings and encouragements from Skipper, and made
him almost frantic. That was it. He must identify the boat's crew and
the return boys by their legs. He hurried the task, passing swiftly from
boy to boy, until he came to Lerumie.

And then he forgot that Skipper wanted him to do something. All he knew
was that it was Lerumie who had broken the taboo of his sacred person by
laying hands