rd, old fellow! I know it
hurts like the deuce but these things have just got to come out."

Maigan is the name of the wolf, in some of the Indian dialects, and
Hugo's friend seemed but little removed from a wolfish ancestry. He
evidently did his best to bear the punishment bravely, for he never
whimpered. At times, however, he sought hard to pull his muzzle away.
Finally, to his great relief, the last serrated quill was pulled out
and he jumped up, placing his paws on the man's shoulders, perhaps to
show he held no grudge. After his master had petted him, an excitable
red squirrel required his immediate attention and, as usual, led him
to a fruitless chase. He returned soon, scratching at the boards, and
his master let him in and closed the door. A moment later the animal's
sharp ears pricked up; the wiry hair on his back rose and he uttered a
low growl.

"Keep still, Maigan!" ordered his master. "Wonder who's coming? Maybe
one of Papineau's young ones."

The fire was getting low and he put a couple of sticks of yellow birch
in the stove. A few seconds later he heard a shout that came from
behind the saplings which, in some places, concealed the old tote-road
from his view. No one but Big Stefan could bellow out so powerfully,
to be sure. He opened the door and Maigan leaped out. In more
leisurely fashion he followed and stopped, in astonishment, as he
caught sight of the dog-team flying back towards Carcajou.

"That's a queer start!" he commented. "First time I ever knew him not
to stop for a cup of tea and a talk."

He thought he saw something like a black box through the branches and
went up. It must be something Stefan had left for him. He walked up
the path in leisurely fashion. There was evidently no hurry. He was
feeling a little disappointment, for he had become fond of Stefan
during his long prospecting trip and would have been glad of a chat to
the invariable accompaniment of the hospitable tea-kettle. He had just
made some pretty good biscuits, too. It was a pity the Swede wouldn't
share them with him. He reached the black box which, to his surprise,
turned out to be a small corded trunk lying on the hard dry snow, with
a cheap leather bag on top of it. He looked about him in wonder and
stopped, suddenly, staring in astonishment at the form of a woman,
shapeless in great ill-fitting garments too big for her. She was
leaning back against the great bare trunk of the old blasted pine and
the dog was skulk