"Are you in trouble?"
"Nao. It's jest that I was passin' up the raoad an'—an'—" He blurted out. "I swan I saw Johnny Blazer's big dog!"
Jeff thought swiftly. Why should seeing Johnny Blazer's dog be cause for such alarm? He asked casually, "Where'd you see him?"
"Down thar on the raoad! I swan—a ha'nt dog!"
Jeff understood and relaxed. Many of the mountain people believed firmly in haunts, spirits and witchcraft. And everybody around Smithville had reason to believe that Pal must be dead. With an effort, Jeff concealed his amusement. A man such as this, thinking Johnny Blazer's dog dead and coming suddenly upon him, might tremble easily.
"You did see him," Jeff said. "He's here."
"He be?"
For a split second, Pete's eyes lost their lack-luster appearance and venom flooded them. A cold finger brushed Jeff's spine. Any man able to look like that was a dangerous one. Jeff thought of his pack and of the shotgun in its corner. Then he decided that he could handle Pete, and meanwhile there were the amenities to be observed.
"Had breakfast?"
"Nao."