“That topic will answer as well as any. Can you tell me why it is?”
“It is scent,” Moran said, humoring his whim. “A bird dog knows the difference between a dead and a crippled bird. He will point a wounded quail but step in to retrieve it the instant it dies. There is a difference of scent. It is probably in that same way that a dog knows the instant a man’s life goes out.”
“Sounds reasonable,” said Harte. “Thanks. I rather hope they don’t get you, Moran—but they will.” He closed his eyes. Once more Flash howled dismally out in the timber, and a human soul traveled with the sound.
Moran knew that Calvin Harte was considered the most clever and dangerous criminal at large. As he stood looking down at him he heard Flash growl warningly. There sounded the thud of hoofs and the jangle of equipment as Dad Kinney’s pack train came swinging up the trail.
