Jeff's eyes strayed to the candle. Barr rose, wrenched it from its
drippings and put it down at the far end of the table. He resumed his
seat. "I can see best when hit's thar," he announced grimly. "You wa'nt
havin' notions 'bout that candle, was you?"
"Why, no, of course not."
Jeff managed to appear innocent, even while he mentally kicked himself.
His chance had come and gone. There'd be another chance and Barr seemed
more at ease.
"This night I learn't what I knew not. A dog howls to noise."
"This one does."
"Make him do hit ag'in. 'Tis a mighty curious thing."
Jeff blew another note and Pal howled again. Barr's eyes sparkled. An
elemental creature himself, he was interested in the elemental and this
fascinated him. He must find the answer, but while seeking it he did not
forget to keep his eyes on Jeff and Pete.
"Why's he do hit?" he asked.
"I don't know," Jeff admitted. "Can't figure it myself."
"Have him do hit some more."
At the first note, Pal obliged with a banshee wail that subsided, then
gathered force and mounted again. The sound filled the cabin and offered
the illusion of being not only real, but all reality. It was as though
the door burst open of its own accord, and Jeff rubbed his eyes in
disbelief.
Ike Wilson stood framed in the doorway.
He was slim, supple, smiling, but behind the smile there was something
hard as stone and there was nothing to provoke humor in the cocked,
double-barreled shotgun he carried. Half erect in his chair, Barr froze
there. Pete's face turned white. Ike grinned happily.
"Hi, peddler!"
"Hi, Ike! Where the blazes did you come from?"
"Broadview Prison. Stopped by Granny's an' she told me you was about.
Heerd the dog howl an' calc'lated you'd be nigh." His chuckle was rich
and very audible. "I didn't expect a hul nest of you. Good thing I
peered in the window glass afore I come in."