THE BLACK FOX SKIN
stracted look as he examined the door. "You say you found it here?"
"Yes."
"Huh!" said Joe again.
"Anything else on the trail?" asked Evans.
November looked at him. "He shot Rizpah."
"The old dog? I suppose she attacked him and he shot her."
"Yes, he shot her—first."
"First? What then?"
"He cut her nigh in pieces with his knife.”
Without more words Joe turned back into the woods and we went after him. Hidden in a low, marshy spot, about half a mile from the house, we came upon the body of the dog. It was evident she had been shot—more than that, the carcass was hacked about in a horrible manner.
"What do you say now, Mr. Evans?" inquired Joe.
"What do I say? I say this. When we find the thief we'll likely find the marks of Rizpah's teeth on him. That's what made him mad with rage, and—" Evans waved his hand.
We returned to breakfast at Mrs. Rone's
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