"Hm-m-m!" mused the guide. "That is peculiar. Fresh tracks?"
"Within a few hours of the time I found them, sir."
"What did you make of them?"
"Not much of anything. But that was not all I discovered. I found a dead dog a little way from camp."
"I saw several myself," laughed Ned Rector.
"One of our dogs?" questioned Lilly.
"No, sir, it was not. Furthermore, the dog had a leash, a long one, about his neck. He hadn't been dragged. I found the dog's footprints almost up to the point where his carcass lay."
Bill Lilly was beginning to show signs of excitement.
"Go on. What had happened to the dog?"
"He had been shot and left where he was killed. The wolves or some other animals had torn his flesh some, but not so much that I could not tell what killed him. He was killed by a bullet. I wonder why?"