Chapter Thirty Two.
The enemy in the dark.
“Ahoy there! Keep that dog quiet,” cried a familiar voice from some distance off.
“It’s all right,” cried Dallas with a sigh of relief. “Norton.”
“Here, Scruff, lie down, old man,” cried Abel. “Friends, friends.”
The dog whined, and waved his bushy tail as the door was opened, and their bluff friend came into the glow shed by the fire.
“How are you, my lads? Haven’t seen you for ages. Didn’t know you had started a dog.”
“He’s a visitor,” said Dallas. “Come in.”
The man entered and looked sideways at the dog, who had begun to smell his legs.
“Not treacherous, is he? Some of these Eskimo are brutes to snap.”