“No; but are we to give him house room?”
“Could we turn him out into the snow?”
Dallas began to whistle softly, and turned the cake on the round iron pan which answered for many purposes. “It’s the same dog, Bel,” he said at last.
“Then the intelligent beast has tracked us out.”
“Been a long time about it.”
“Dogs are very grateful creatures.”
“Rum way of showing his gratitude to come and sponge upon two poor fellows who are half starving. Meal bag’s awfully low.”
“You must try for something with the gun. What’s the weather like this morning?”
“Dark and cold, but clear starlight, and a sprinkle of fresh snow on the ground.”
“A sprinkle?”