“Look me straight in the eye, Dad, and tell me just what you mean.”

“Why, Kate,” said the wise old man, “you’re beginnin’ to see for yourself what I’m drivin’ at!  Haven’t you got somethin’ else right on the tip of your tongue?”

“There was one day that I’ve never told you about,” she said in a low voice, looking away, “because I was afraid that if I told you, you’d shoot Black Bart.  He was gnawing a big beef bone and just for fun I tried to take it away from him.  He’d been out on a long trail with Dan and he was very hungry.  When I put my hand on the bone he snapped.  Luckily I had a thick glove on and he merely pinched my wrist.  Also I think he realized what he was doing for otherwise he’d have cut through the glove as if it had been paper.  He snarled fearfully and I sprang back with a cry.  Dan hadn’t seen what happened, but he heard the snarl and saw Black Bart’s bared teeth.  Then—­oh, it was terrible!”

She covered her face.

“Take your time, Kate,” said Cumberland softly.

“‘Bart,’ called Dan,” she went on, “and there was such anger in his face that I think I was more afraid of him than of the big dog.

“Bart turned to him with a snarl and bared his teeth.  When Dan saw that his face turned—­I don’t know how to say it!”

She stopped a moment and her hands tightened.

“Back in his throat there came a sound that was almost like the snarl of Black Bart.  The wolf-dog watched him with a terror that was uncanny to see, the hair around his neck fairly on end, his teeth still bared, and his growl horrible.

“‘Dan!’ I called, ‘don’t go near him!’

“I might as well have called out to a whirlwind.  He leaped.  Black Bart sprang to meet him with eyes green with fear.  I heard the loud click of his teeth as he snapped—­and missed.  Dan swerved to one side and caught Black Bart by the throat and drove him into the dust, falling with him.

“I couldn’t move.  I was weak with horror.  It wasn’t a struggle between a man and a beast.  It was like a fight between a panther and a wolf.  Black Bart was fighting hard but fighting hopelessly.  Those hands were settling tighter on his throat.  His big red tongue lolled out; his struggles almost ceased.  Then Dan happened to glance at me.  What he saw in my face sobered him.  He got up, lifting the dog with him, and flung away the lifeless weight of Bart.  He began to brush the dust from his clothes, looking down as if he were ashamed.  He asked me if the dog had hurt me when he snapped.  I could not speak for a moment.  Then came the most horrible part.  Black Bart, who must have been nearly killed, dragged himself to Dan on his belly, choking and whining, and licked the boots of his master!”

“Then you do know what I mean when I say Dan is—­different?”

She hesitated and blinked, as if she were shutting her eyes on a fact.  “I don’t know.  I know that he’s gentle and kind and loves you more than you love him.”  Her voice broke a little.  “Oh, Dad, you forget the time he sat up with you for five days and nights when you got sick out in the hills, and how he barely managed to get you back to the house alive!”