“The next day ’e went thar an’ found them tracks all ’round an’ the meat gone. Somehow the contraption hadn’t worked. He set it agin, an’ in about a week there was a big skunk in it, all messed up an’ hostile, an’ after that Sipes quit. He said that them fellers that wanted to trap that varmint could go ahead an’ do it. He didn’t want nothin’ to do with no more traps. He was goin’ to wait ’till ’e saw it, whatever it was, an’ plug it with ’is gun.
“He hunted ’round a whole lot at night, an’ once ’e saw sumpen black, movin’ along under the bluff. It was bright moonlight, but this thing was in the shadow. He took a couple o’ pops at it, but it got away up in the brush. Sometimes ’e’d hear queer sounds outside ’is house in the night. He’d git up quick an’ sneak out with ’is gun, but ’e didn’t never find nothin’. The next mornin’ ’e’d look for them funny tracks an’ most always found some. Next ’e was goin’ to put out some pizen, but ’e couldn’t git none.
“Afterward the whole thing come out. It was Cal’s dog that done it. He come ’long the beach one day when I was fixin’ my boat. I had it up on the sand, an’ ’ad poured a lot o’ tar in it. I was tippin’ it an’ flowin’ the tar ’round in it to catch all the little leaks in the bottom. I left it fer a minute, an’ the dog got in the boat an’ puddled all ’round in the tar. What ’e done it fer I don’t know. Then ’e hopped out on the sand an’ caked ’is feet all up, an’ that’s the reason ’e made them funny tracks, an’ that’s why them fellers with the dogs couldn’t follow the scent. He didn’t leave no animal scent. The tar an’ the sand killed it. He probly didn’t like the way ’is feet felt, an’ when ’e skipped out from ’ere ’e was prob’ly scart an’ didn’t go back to Cal’s. He must ’av spent his time hidin’ ’round in the woods in the daytime, an’ at night ’e’d come out ’long the beach to git sumpen to eat.
“I didn’t think of all this ’till some feller come ’long ’ere an’ said ’e’d followed them tracks down to Cal’s place an’ found ’im settin’ outside rubbin’ ’is dog’s paws with grease, an’ tryin’ to git big lumps o’ tar an’ sand off ’em. The dog ’ad bin gone about two weeks, an’ Cal thought ’e’d gone off fer good. I’ll bet Cal was glad to git ’im back.