One of Marie's brothers. Hogey stood frozen in the shadow of a peach tree, waiting.
"Anybody out there?" the man called again.
Hogey waited, then heard the man muttering, "Sic 'im, boy, sic 'im."
The hound's bark became eager. The animal came chasing down the slope, and stopped ten feet away to crouch and bark frantically at the shadow in the gloom. He knew the dog.
"Hooky!" he whispered. "Hooky boy—here!"
The dog stopped barking, sniffed, trotted closer, and went "Rrrooff!" Then he started sniffing suspiciously again.
"Easy, Hooky, here boy!" he whispered.
The dog came forward silently, sniffed his hand, and whined in recognition. Then he trotted around Hogey, panting doggy affection and dancing an invitation to romp. The man whistled from the porch. The dog froze, then trotted quickly back up the slope.
"Nothing, eh, Hooky?" the man on the porch said. "Chasin' armadillos again, eh?"
The screen door slammed again, and the porch light went out. Hogey stood there staring, unable to think. Somewhere beyond the window lights were—his woman, his son.