leading the way to the cabin.

Mrs. Twig, still flurried with the coming of a stranger, met them at the
door.

"Come right in, sir. 'Tis wonderful cold outside," she invited.

"Thank you," said the man. "That fish you're frying smells appetizing.
My name is Marks. I'm the trader at White Bear Run. I suppose you're
Mrs. Twig and this little maid is your daughter?"

"Aye, sir, I'm Mrs. Twig and this is Vi'let."

"Glad to see you both," and after shaking hands with Mrs. Twig and
Violet, Marks the trader from White Bear Run proceeded to remove his
adikey, and standing over the stove that the heat might assist him, to
remove the mass of ice from his thickly encrusted beard.

"Set in now and have a cup o' tea, sir, and some trout," invited Mrs.
Twig when Marks's beard was cleared to his satisfaction.

"Thank you," and Marks took a seat. "Nippy out. Hot tea is warming.
Trout good too. Regular feast!"

"The lads and Vi'let just catches the trout this morning."

When he was through eating, Marks donned his adikey, and went out of
doors to release his dogs from harness. Toby and Charley had already
unlashed his load, and carried his things into the porch where they
would be safe from the inquisitive and destroying dogs.

One by one Marks loosed his dogs from harness, giving each a vicious
kick as it was freed, and sending it away howling and whining, until he
came to the last one, a big, gray creature. As he approached this
animal, it bared its fangs and snarled at him savagely. With the butt of
his whip he beat the dog mercilessly. Then slipping the harness from the
animal, Marks kicked at it as he had kicked at the others. The dog,
apparently expecting the kick, sprang aside, and Marks losing his
balance went sprawling in the snow. In an instant the savage beast was
upon him.

XXIII

THE LOST FUR

With the release of the stranger's dogs Toby had rather anticipated a
renewal of hostilities between the packs. To be prepared and armed for
such an event he was standing by with his dog whip ready for action.

He had been observing Marks and the dog, and the ill feeling between the
two had caused him to expect, sooner or later, some such accident as
that which had occurred. The gray dog was bolder than is usual with
Eskimo dogs, and Toby had no doubt that it was constantly on the alert
for an opening that might permit it to find its cruel master at a
disadvantage, when it could attack and destroy him safely.