Quonab's face grew darker each time fresh evidence of the enemy was discovered, and the final wrong was added soon.
Some trappers mark their traps; some do not bother.

Rolf had marked all of theirs with a file, cutting notches on the iron.

Two, one, three, was their mark, and it was a wise plan, as it turned out.
On going around the west beaver pond they found that all six traps had disappeared.

In some, there was no evidence of the thief; in some, the tracks showed clearly that they were taken by the same interloper that had bothered them all along, and on a jagged branch was a short blue yarn.
"Now will I take up his trail and kill him," said the Indian.
Rolf had opposed extreme measures, and again he remonstrated.

To his surprise, the Indian turned fiercely and said: "You know it is white man.