Tug¹ Blackstock arrived the next morning about eleven. Before he had time to sit down for a cup of that strenuous² black tea which the woodsmen consume at all hours, he had heard from Woolly Billy's eager lips the story of the hole in the tree beneath the fish-hawk's nest. He heard also of the episode at Zeb Smith's store, but Woolly Billy by this time had quite forgiven Long Jackson, so the incident was told in such a way that Blackstock had no reason to take offence.  
"Long tried hard," said the child, "to get me to tell where that hole was, but I wouldn't. And Black Dan was awful nice, an' made him stop botherin' me, an' said I was quite right not to tell anybody till you came home, coz you'd know just what to do."
 
"H'm!" said the Deputy-Sheriff thoughtfully, "Long's had a lot of money stole from him, so, of course, he wanted to git his eyes on to that hole quick. But 'tain't like Black Dan to be that thoughtful. Maybe he hasn't had none taken."
 
While he was speaking, a bunch of the mill-hands arrived at the door, word of Blackstock's return having gone through the village.
 
"We want to go an' help ye find that traysure, Tug," said Long Jackson, glancing somewhat sheepishly at Woolly Billy. A friendly grin from the child reassured⁴ him, and he went on with more confidence:
 
"We tried to git the kiddie to tell us where 'twas, but wild steers⁵ wouldn't drag it out o' him till you got back."
 
"That's right, Long," agreed Blackstock, "but it don't need to be no expedition. We don't want the whole village traipsin' after us. You an' three or four more o' the boys that's lost money come along, with Woolly Billy an' me, an' the rest o' you meet us at the store in about a couple o' hours' time. Tell any other folks you see that I don't want 'em follerin' after us, because it may mix up things—an' anyways, I don't want it, see!"
 
After a few moments' hesitation⁶ and consultation⁷ the majority of the mill-hands turned away, leaving Long Jackson and big Andy Stevens, the blue-eyed giant from the Oromocto (who had been one of the chief victims), and MacDonald, and Black Saunders, and Black Dan (whose name had been Dan Black till the whim⁸ of the woodsmen turned it about). Blackstock eyed them appraisingly⁹.
 
"I didn't know as you'd bin¹⁰ one o' the victims too, Dan," he remarked.
 
"Didn't ye, Tug?" returned Black with a short laugh. "Well, I didn't say nawthin about it, coz I was after doin' a leetle detective work on me own, an' mebbe I'd 'ave got in ahead o' ye if Woolly Billy here hadn't 'a' been so smart. But I tell ye, Tug, if that there traysure's the lot we're thinkin' it is, there'd ought ter be a five-dollar bill in it what I've marked."
 
"H'm!" grunted¹¹ the Deputy, hastily gulping¹² down the last of his tea, and rising to his feet. "But Woolly Billy an' me and Jim's a combination pretty hard to git ahead of, I'm thinkin'."
 
As the party neared the bluff¹³ whereon the tree of the fish-hawk's nest stood ragged¹⁴ against the sky, the air grew rank with the pungent¹⁵ odour of skunk¹⁶. Now skunks¹⁷ were too common in the region of Brine's Rip Mills for that smell, as a rule, to excite any more comment than an occasional disgusted execration¹⁸ when it became too concentrated. But to-day it drew more than passing attention. MacDonald sniffed¹⁹ intently.
 
"It's deuced queer," said he, "but I've noticed that there's always been a smell of skunk round when anybody's lost anything. Did it ever strike you that way, Tug?"
 
"Yes, some!" assented²⁰ the Deputy curtly²¹.
 
"It's a skunk, all right, that's been takin' our money," said big Andy, "ef he don't carry his tail over his back."
 
Every one of the party was sniffing²² the tainted²³ air as if the familiar stench were some rare perfume—all but Jim. He had had an encounter with a skunk, once in his impulsive²⁴ puppy days, and the memory was too painful to be dwelt upon.
 
As they climbed the slope, one of the fish-hawks came swooping²⁵ down from somewhere high in the blue, and began circling on slow wings about the nest.
 
"That cross old bird doesn't like visitors," remarked Woolly Billy.
 
"You wouldn't, neether, Woolly Billy, if you was a fish-hawk," said Jackson.
 
Arrived at the tree, Woolly Billy pointed²⁶ eagerly to a slightly broken piece of bark a little above the height of the Deputy's head.
 
"There's the hole!" he cried, clapping his hands in his excitement as if relieved to find it had not vanished.
 
"Keep off a bit now, boys," cautioned Blackstock. Drawing his long hunting-knife, he carefully loosened the bark without letting his hand come in contact with it, and on the point of the blade laid it aside against the foot of the trunk.
 
"Don't any of you tech it," he admonished²⁷.
 
Then he slipped his hand into the hole, and felt about.
 
A look of chagrin²⁸ came over his face, and he withdrew his hand—empty.
 
"Nothin' there!" said he.
 
"It was there yesterday morning," protested Woolly Billy, his blue eyes filling with tears.
 
"Yes, yes, of course," agreed Blackstock, glancing slowly around the circle of disappointed faces.
 
"Somebody from the store's been blabbin'," exclaimed Black Dan, in a loud and angry voice.
 
"An' why not?" protested Big Andy, with a guilty air. "We never said nawthin' about keepin' it a secret."
 
In spite of their disappointment, the millhands laughed. Big Andy was not one to keep a secret in any case, and his weakness for a certain pretty widow who kept the postoffice was common comment. Big Andy responded by blushing to the roots of his blonde hair.
 
"Jim!" commanded the Deputy. And the big black dog bounded up to him, his eyes bright with expectation. The Deputy picked him up, and held him aloft with his muzzle²⁹ to the edges of the hole.
 
"Smell that," he ordered, and Jim sniffed intently. Then he set him down, and directed him to the piece of bark. That, too, Jim's nose investigated minutely, his feathered tail slowly wagging.
 
"Seek him," ordered Blackstock.
 
Jim whined³⁰, looked puzzled, and sniffed again at the bark. The information which his subtle nose picked up there was extremely confusing. First, there was the smell of skunk—but that smell of skunk was everywhere, dulling the keenness of his discrimination. Then, there was a faint, faint reminiscence of Woolly Billy. But there was Woolly Billy, at Tug Blackstock's side. Certainly, there could be no reason for him to seek Woolly Billy. Then there was an elusive³¹, tangled³² scent³³, which for some moments defied him. At last, however, he got a clue to it. With a pleased bark—his way of saying "Eureka!"—he whipped about, trotted³⁴ over to big Andy Stevens, sat down in front of him, and gazed up at him, with tongue hanging and an air of friendly inquiry³⁵, as much as to say: "Here I am, Andy. But I don't know what Tug Blackstock wants me to seek you for, seein' as you're right here alongside him."
 
Big Andy dropped his hand on the dog's head familiarly; then noticing the sudden tense silence of the party, his eyes grew very big and round.
 
"What're you all starin' at me fer, boys?" he demanded, with a sort of uneasy wonder.
 
"Ax Jim," responded Black Dan, harshly.
 
"I reckon old Jim's makin' a mistake fer once, Tug," drawled Long Jackson, who was Andy's special pal³⁶.
 
The Deputy rubbed his lean chin reflectively. There could be no one more above suspicion in his eyes than this transparently³⁷ honest young giant from the Oromocto. But Jim's curious action had scattered³⁸ to the winds, at least for a moment, a sort of hypothesis which he had been building up in his mind. At the same time, he felt dimly that a new clue was being held out to him, if he could only grasp it. He wanted time to think.
 
"We kin³ all make mistakes," he announced sententiously. "Come here, Jim. Seek 'im, boy, seek 'im." And he waved his hand at large.
 
Jim bounced off with a joyous³⁹ yelp⁴⁰, and began quartering the ground, hither and thither⁴¹, all about the tree. Big Andy, at a complete loss for words, stood staring from one to another with eyes of indignant and incredulous reproach.
 
Suddenly a yelp of triumph was heard in the bushes, a little way down towards the lake, and Jim came racing⁴² back with a dark magenta⁴³ article in his mouth. At the foot of the tree he stopped, and looked at Blackstock interrogatively. Receiving no sign whatever from his master, whose face had lit up for an instant, but was now as impassive as a hitching-post, he stared at Black Dan for a few seconds, and then let his eyes wander back to Andy's face. In the midst of his obvious hesitation the Oromocto man stepped forward.
 
"Durned ef that ain't one o' my old mittens," he exclaimed eagerly, "what Sis knit fer me. I've been lookin' fer 'em everywheres. Bring it here, Jim."
 
As the dog trotted up with it obediently, the Deputy intervened and stopped him. "You shall have it bime-by, Andy," said he, "ef it's yourn. But jest now I don't want nobody to tech it except Jim. Ef you acknowledge it's yourn——"
 
"Of course it's mine," interrupted Andy resentfully. "An' I want to find the other o............