Katherine shook her head.  “Oily Dave may be, for pilfering seems to be second nature with him.  But Stee Jenkin is made of better stuff, and I believe he is really grateful because we saved him that night.  Then remember how kind he and his wife were to us when Father was so ill.  Oh, I’ve got a better opinion of Stee than to think he would steal our things now!”

Miles grunted again in a disbelieving fashion, but he did not attempt to upset Katherine’s convictions by argument; only they agreed that for the future a more vigilant watch should be kept both indoors and out.  A padlock and chain were put on the door of the fish-house, everything that could be locked up was carefully made fast; then Katherine and Miles set themselves to the task of keeping their eyes open to find out who had stolen the lard.

Later in that same day a miserable-looking Indian came in with a lot of dried fish which he wanted to trade off for provisions, and, after a good deal of bargaining, Katherine took the lot in exchange for a small barrel of flour and a packet of tobacco.

“No need for us to go fishing to-morrow, Miles.  I have got enough fish to last the dogs for a fortnight, if we are careful,” she said to her brother, when he came back from a journey down to Seal Cove.

“Where did you get it from?” he asked.

“From an Indian who called himself Waywassimo, so I think he must have been reading Longfellow’s Hiawatha, for you know Waywassimo was the lightning, and Annemeekee the thunder,” Katherine replied.  “Only there was nothing grand nor terrible about this Waywassimo.  He was simply a miserable-looking Indian with a most dreadful cough.”

Miles began to laugh in a hugely delighted fashion, but it was some time before Katherine could get from him the cause of his mirth.  At length, with many chuckles, he commenced to explain.

“There has been a wretched-looking Indian hanging about Seal Cove for the last two or three days, stealing pretty nearly everything he could lay his hands on, and Mrs. Jenkin told me that last night he broke into Oily Dave’s fish-house and cleared off with every bit of dried fish there was.”

“So I have been buying stolen goods.  How horrid!” exclaimed Katherine with a frown.  “Now I suppose it is my duty to hand at least a part of that fish back to Oily Dave.  Oh dear, I would rather it had been anyone else, for I do dislike him so much!”

“Don’t fret yourself; wait until you hear the end of my story, and then you will see that for once the biter has been bitten,” answered Miles, with so much chuckling and gurgling that he seemed to be in a fair way to choke himself.  “Mrs. Jenkin says she is quite positive that Oily Dave stole that fish, because his fish-house was quite empty a week ago, as she saw with her own eyes, but yesterday, when she was cleaning his house for him, she saw that he had a lot of fish.  He told her then that he had bought it to sell again.  She knew how much of that to believe, however, and asked me if we had missed any of our fish.”