"Shake, pard," exclaimed Dunkan, extending an impulsive hand. "You're the real thing. Nothing make-believe about you. The way you've puzzled out this trail business beats me. I'm pretty fair at it myself, but I'm not even a pussy-willow shadow to you."
"Did you hear about the three-legged rat and our black cat?" bubbled Stacy.
"No, I didn't. It isn't rats and cats, but dogs, in which we're interested at the present minute. We'll go back for some chuck. In the meantime we'll chew over it," said Dunkan.
"Over the chuck?" asked Stacy.
"I reckon," grinned the prospector. "And the dog, too."
"I'm no Chinaman," objected the fat boy.
"Very strange, very strange," declared the Professor, glaring from one to another of them.
"A friend of mine lost a valuable Pomeranian in a somewhat similar manner a year ago and—"
"I ate a whole one of those once," chuckled Chunky.
"You ate a whole Pomeranian?" questioned Tad.