eased himself into his corner and tried to rest his head on his
paws. The quills under his muzzle stabbed him and he raised it with a
sharp yelp of pain. Jean and Buddie sprang toward him with expressions
of sympathy and endearment. The dog whimpered, raising his soft, dark
eyes to their faces as if begging for help in his trouble. Jean, on
the verge of tears, sank down beside him, but Ellen, thinking to
relieve him, ran to the living-quarters back of the store to get a pair
of pinchers from Decitan.

When she returned she stood a moment half-concealed by the curtain in
the doorway. Jean was soothingly stroking one of Kobuk's big paws.
Near her stood the White Chief who evidently had just come in. Both
thumbs were hooked beneath his scarlet belt, and he was looking down at
the dog. Kobuk at that moment lowered his head and tried to work
himself farther back in his corner, but the effort brought out another
yelp of pain.

The man's eyes became mere slits.

"Ah, damn you, so you've done it again, have you?" he said with a
softness that in some indefinable way chilled the blood. "Well, this
time we'll let the quills work through your brainless skull--or--
Here, Hoots-noo--" he turned to the Indian who was entering the store.
"Take this cur out and shoot him. I'm tired of having quills yanked
out of him."

With a cry of protest Jean came to her feet.

"Oh, no, no! Please!" Apparently forgetful of all but the safety of
the dog, the girl clasped both her little hands about the man's arm.
Her hazel eyes pleaded. Loll, too, was clinging to the trader's other
hand, stroking it and looking up beseechingly into his bearded face.

"Oh, Chief, please, _please_ don't shoot Kobuk! We want him! We'll
take care of him!"

The White Chief paid no attention to the boy, but he looked down into
the face of the girl and laughed unpleasantly.

"The little squaw with white feet can be very nice to me when she wants
something," he said. "What are you willing to give me for Kobuk, my
little lady?"

At his tone the girl shrank back, but Loll, sturdily refusing to be
ignored, interrupted hastily:

"_She_ ain't got nothing you want, Chief!" He began tugging
desperately at a string about his waist which bound to him his most
cherished possession--an old broken revolver bestowed on him by Kayak
Bill. "Here, I'll give you my pistol for Kobuk!" The earnest little
fellow held out the weapon with an air of certainty which in