NOVEMBER JOE
near the stove, and disappeared behind the deer-skin curtain. Before sleep visited me I had time to pass in review the curious circumstances which the last few hours had disclosed. Here was a woman making a noble and plucky struggle to wring a living from Nature. In my fancy I saw her working and toiling early and late in the snow and gloom. And then over the horizon of her life appeared the dastardly thief who was always waiting, always watching to defeat her efforts.
When I woke next morning it was to see, with some astonishment, that a new personage had been drawn into our little drama of the woods. A dark-bearded man in the uniform of a game warden was sitting on the other side of the stove. He was a straightforward-looking chap getting on for middle age, but there was a certain doggedness in his aspect. Mrs. Rone, who was preparing breakfast, made haste to introduce him.
"This is Game Warden Evans, Mr. Quaritch," she said. "He was at Scats's last night. There he heard about me losing fur from the traps, and come right over to see if he could n't help me."
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