aded
their guns for a thorough hunt. Two traps were also set near the
carcasses, which were left as found, to lure the destroyer back.

The destroyer did not return; the traps remained as they were set; and
the youthful hunters were unsuccessful in rousing a bear in the woods.
But on the following Wednesday night a farmer named Needham, living a
mile and a half from Frost, lost two sheep, the bodies of which were
found in his pasture, partly eaten.

It chanced that Farmer Needham, or his son Emerson, owned a dog which
was greatly prized. They called him Bender. Bender was said to be a
half-breed, Newfoundland and mastiff, but had, I think, a strain of more
common blood in his ancestry, for there was a tawny crescent mark
beneath each of his eyes. Bender was the pink of propriety and a dog of
unblemished reputation.

On this occasion Bender went with the farmer and his boys to the sheep
pasture, and smelled the dead sheep with every appearance of surprise
and horror. The hair on his shoulders bristled with indignation. He
coursed around, seeking for bear tracks, and ran barking about the
pasture. In short, he did everything that a properly grieved dog should
do under the circumstances, and so far from touching or eating any of
the torn mutton, he plainly scorned such a thing.

The boys took Bender with them to hunt bears, as their main reliance and
ally, and Bender hunted assiduously. Three or four other dogs, belonging
at farms in the vicinity, were also taken on these hunts. One was a
collie, another a mongrel bulldog, and a third a large brindled dog of
no known pedigree. Still another half-bred St. Bernard dog set off with
the others, but on reaching the sheep pasture, where they went first to
get the trail and make a start, this latter dog behaved oddly, left the
others and slunk away home.

Some of the boys attributed this to cowardice, and he was hooted; others
suspected Roke, for that was his name, of having killed the sheep.
Suspicion against him so increased that his master kept him chained at
home.

No bears were tracked to their dens, and none were caught in the traps,
which were also set in the Needham pasture; but less than a week later
another farmer, this time the owner of the mongrel bulldog, lost three
sheep in one night. As previously, the sheep were found dead and partly
eaten.

If Roke's _alibi_ had not had a tangible chain at one end of it that
night, his character would have been as good a