ed it to put out the burning sensation that was crawling nearer
to his vitals.

Had he devoured the ball of fat as he had eaten the other baits he
would have been dead within a quarter of an hour, and Le Beau would not
have gone far to find his body. As it was, he was beginning to turn
sick at the end of the fifteen minutes. A premonition of the evil that
was upon him drew him off the trail and in the direction of the
windfall. He had gone only a short distance when suddenly his legs gave
way under him, and he fell. He began to shiver. Every muscle in his
body trembled. His teeth clicked. His eyes grew wide, and it was
impossible for him to move. And then, like a hand throttling him, there
came a strange stiffness in the back of his neck, and his breath hissed
chokingly out of his throat. The stiffness passed like a wave of fire
through his body. Where his muscles had trembled and shivered a moment
before they now became rigid and lifeless. The throttling grip of the
poison at the base of his brain drew his head back until his muzzle was
pointed straight up to the sky. Still he made no cry. For a space every
nerve in his body was at the point of death.

Then came the change. As though a string had snapped, the horrible grip
left the back of his neck; the stiffness shot out of his body in a
flood of shivering cold, and in another moment he was twisting and
tearing up the snow in mad convulsions. The spasm lasted for perhaps a
minute. When it was over Miki was panting. Streams of saliva dripped
from his jaws into the snow. But he was alive. Death had missed him by
a hair, and after a little he staggered to his feet and continued on
his way to the windfall.

Thereafter Jacques Le Beau might place a million poison capsules in his
way and he would not touch them. Never again would he steal the meat
from a bait-peg.

Two days later Le Beau saw where Miki had fought his fight with death
in the snow and his heart was black with rage and disappointment. He
began to follow the footprints of the dog. It was noon when he came to
the windfall and saw the beaten path where Miki entered it. On his
knees he peered into the cavernous depths--and saw nothing. But Miki,
lying watchfully, saw the man, and he was like the black, bearded
monster who had almost killed him with a club a long time ago. And in
his heart, too, there was disappointment, for away back in his memory
of things there was always the thought of Challoner--the master