With this day they resumed the comradeship interrupted by Baree’s temporary desertion.  The attachment was greater than ever on Baree’s part.  It was he who had run away from the Willow, who had deserted her at the call of the pack, and it seemed at times as though he sensed the depths of his perfidy and was striving to make amends.  There was indubitably a very great change in him.  He clung to Nepeese like a shadow.  Instead of sleeping at night in the spruce shelter Pierrot made for him, he made himself a little hollow in the earth close to the cabin door.  Pierrot thought that he understood, and Nepeese thought that she understood even more; but in reality the key to the mystery remained with Baree himself.  He no longer played as he had played before he went off alone into the forest.  He did not chase sticks, or run until he was winded, for the pure joy of running.  His puppyishness was gone.  In its place was a great worship and a rankling bitterness, a love for the girl and a hatred for the pack and all that it stood for.  Whenever he heard the wolf howl, it brought an angry snarl into his throat, and he would bare his fangs until even Pierrot would draw a little away from him.  But a touch of the girl’s hand would quiet him.

In a week or two the heavier snows came, and Pierrot began making his trips over the trap lines.  Nepeese had entered into an exciting bargain with him this winter.  Pierrot had taken her into partnership.  Every fifth trap, every fifth deadfall, and every fifth poison bait was to be her own, and what they caught or killed was to bring a bit nearer to realization a wonderful dream that was growing in the Willow’s heart.  Pierrot had promised.  If they had great luck that winter, they would go down together on the last snows to Nelson House and buy the little old organ that was for sale there.  And if the organ was sold, they would work another winter, and get a new one.

This plan gave Nepeese an enthusiastic and tireless interest in the trap line.  With Pierrot it was more or less a fine bit of strategy.  He would have sold his hand to give Nepeese the organ.  He was determined that she should have it, whether the fifth traps and the fifth deadfalls and fifth poison baits caught the fur or not.  The partnership meant nothing so far as the actual returns were concerned.  But in another way it meant to Nepeese a business interest, the thrill of personal achievement.  Pierrot impressed on her that it made a comrade and coworker of her on the trail.  His scheme was to keep her with him when he was away from the cabin.  He knew that Bush McTaggart would come again to the Gray Loon, probably more than once during the winter.  He had swift dogs, and it was a short journey.  And when McTaggart came, Nepeese must not be at the cabin—­alone.