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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10696 ***
+
+THE DANGER TRAIL
+
+By
+
+JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
+
+1910
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER I.    The Girl of the Snows
+CHAPTER II.   Lips That Speak Not
+CHAPTER III.  The Mysterious Attack
+CHAPTER IV.   The Warning
+CHAPTER V.    Howland's Midnight Visitor
+CHAPTER VI.   The Love of a Man
+CHAPTER VII.  The Blowing of the Coyote
+CHAPTER VIII. The Hour of Death
+CHAPTER IX.   The Tryst
+CHAPTER X.    A Race Into the North
+CHAPTER XI.   The House of the Red Death
+CHAPTER XII.  The Fight
+CHAPTER XIII. The Pursuit
+CHAPTER XIV.  The Gleam of the Light
+CHAPTER XV.   In the Bedroom Chamber
+CHAPTER XVI.  Jean's Story
+CHAPTER XVII. Meleese
+
+
+
+
+THE DANGER TRAIL
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+THE GIRL OF THE SNOWS
+
+For perhaps the first time in his life Howland felt the spirit of
+romance, of adventure, of sympathy for the picturesque and the unknown
+surging through his veins. A billion stars glowed like yellow,
+passionless eyes in the polar cold of the skies. Behind him, white in
+its sinuous twisting through the snow-smothered wilderness, lay the icy
+Saskatchewan, with a few scattered lights visible where Prince Albert,
+the last outpost of civilization, came down to the river half a
+mile away.
+
+But it was into the North that Howland looked. From the top of the great
+ridge which he had climbed he gazed steadily into the white gloom which
+reached for a thousand miles from where he stood to the Arctic Sea.
+Faintly in the grim silence of the winter night there came to his ears
+the soft hissing sound of the aurora borealis as it played in its
+age-old song over the dome of the earth, and as he watched the cold
+flashes shooting like pale arrows through the distant sky and listened
+to its whispering music of unending loneliness and mystery, there came
+on him a strange feeling that it was beckoning to him and calling to
+him--telling him that up there very near to the end of the earth lay all
+that he had dreamed of and hoped for since he had grown old enough to
+begin the shaping of a destiny of his own.
+
+He shivered as the cold nipped at his blood, and lighted a fresh cigar,
+half-turning to shield himself from a wind that was growing out of the
+east. As the match flared in the cup of his hands for an instant there
+came from the black gloom of the balsam and spruce at his feet a
+wailing, hungerful cry that brought a startled breath from his lips. It
+was a cry such as Indian dogs make about the tepees of masters who are
+newly dead. He had never heard such a cry before, and yet he knew that
+it was a wolf's. It impressed him with an awe which was new to him and
+he stood as motionless as the trees about him until, from out the gray
+night-gloom to the west, there came an answering cry, and then, from far
+to the north, still another.
+
+"Sounds as though I'd better go back to town," he said to himself,
+speaking aloud. "By George, but it's lonely!"
+
+He descended the ridge, walked rapidly over the hard crust of the snow
+across the Saskatchewan, and assured himself that he felt considerably
+easier when the lights of Prince Albert gleamed a few hundred yards
+ahead of him.
+
+Jack Howland was a Chicago man, which means that he was a hustler, and
+not overburdened with sentiment. For fifteen of his thirty-one years he
+had been hustling. Since he could easily remember, he had possessed to
+a large measure but one ambition and one hope. With a persistence which
+had left him peculiarly a stranger to the more frivolous and human sides
+of life he had worked toward the achievement of this ambition, and
+to-night, because that achievement was very near at hand, he was happy.
+He had never been happier. There flashed across his mental vision a
+swiftly moving picture of the fight he had made for success. It had been
+a magnificent fight. Without vanity he was proud of it, for fate had
+handicapped him at the beginning, and still he had won out. He saw
+himself again the homeless little farmer boy setting out from his
+Illinois village to take up life in a great city; as though it had all
+happened but yesterday he remembered how for days and weeks he had
+nearly starved, how he had sold papers at first, and then, by lucky
+chance, became errand boy in a big drafting establishment. It was there
+that the ambition was born in him. He saw great engineers come and
+go--men who were greater than presidents to him, and who sought out the
+ends of the earth in the following of their vocation. He made a slave of
+himself in the nurturing and strengthening of his ambition to become one
+of them--to be a builder of railroads and bridges, a tunneler of
+mountains, a creator of new things in new lands. His slavery had not
+lessened as his years increased. Voluntarily he had kept himself in
+bondage, fighting ceaselessly the obstacles in his way, triumphing over
+his handicaps as few other men had triumphed, rising, slowly, steadily,
+resistlessly, until now--. He flung back his head and the pulse of his
+heart quickened as he heard again the words of Van Horn, president of
+the greatest engineering company on the continent.
+
+"Howland, we've decided to put you in charge Of the building of the
+Hudson Bay Railroad. It's one of the wildest jobs we've ever had, and
+Gregson and Thorne don't seem to catch on. They're bridge builders and
+not wilderness men. We've got to lay a single line of steel through
+three hundred miles of the wildest country in North America, and from
+this hour your motto is 'Do it or bust!' You can report at Le Pas as
+soon as you get your traps together."
+
+Those words had broken the slavedom for Howland. He had been fighting
+for an opportunity, and now that the opportunity had come he was sure
+that he would succeed. Swiftly, with his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets, he walked down the one main street of Prince Albert, puffing
+out odorous clouds of smoke from his cigar, every fiber in him tingling
+with the new joy that had come into his life. Another night would see
+him in Le Pas, the little outpost sixty miles farther east on the
+Saskatchewan. Then a hundred miles by dog-sledge and he would be in the
+big wilderness camp where three hundred men were already at work
+clearing a way to the great bay to the north. What a glorious
+achievement that road would be! It would remain for all time as a
+cenotaph to his ability, his courage and indomitable persistence.
+
+It was past nine o'clock when Howland entered the little old Windsor
+Hotel. The big room, through the windows of which he could look out on
+the street and across the frozen Saskatchewan, was almost empty. The
+clerk had locked his cigar-case and had gone to bed. In one corner,
+partly shrouded in gloom, sat a half-breed trapper who had come in that
+day from the Lac la Ronge country, and at his feet crouched one of his
+wolfish sledge-dogs. Both were wide-awake and stared curiously at
+Howland as he came in. In front of the two large windows sat half a
+dozen men, as silent as the half-breed, clad in moccasins and thick
+caribou skin coats. One of them was the factor from a Hudson Bay post at
+Lac Bain who had not been down to the edge of civilization for three
+years; the others, including two Crees and a Chippewayan, were hunters
+and Post men who had driven in their furs from a hundred miles to
+the north.
+
+For a moment Howland paused in the middle of the room and looked about
+him. Ordinarily he would have liked this quiet, and would have gone to
+one of the two rude tables to write a letter or work out a problem of
+some sort, for he always carried a pocketful of problems about with him.
+His fifteen years of study and unceasing slavery to his ambition had
+made him naturally as taciturn as these grim men of the North, who were
+born to silence. But to-night there had come a change over him. He
+wanted to talk. He wanted to ask questions. He longed for human
+companionship, for some kind of mental exhilaration beyond that
+furnished by his own thoughts. Feeling in his pocket for a cigar he
+seated himself before one of the windows and proffered it to the factor
+from Lac Bain.
+
+"You smoke?" he asked companionably.
+
+"I was born in a wigwam," said the factor slowly, taking the cigar.
+"Thank you."
+
+"Deuced polite for a man who hasn't seen civilization for three years,"
+thought Howland, seating himself comfortably, with his feet on the
+window-sill. Aloud he said, "The clerk tells me you are from Lac Bain.
+That's a good distance north, isn't it?"
+
+"Four hundred miles," replied the factor with quiet terseness. "We're on
+the edge of the Barren Lands."
+
+"Whew!" Howland shrugged his shoulders. Then he volunteered, "I'm going
+north myself to-morrow."
+
+"Post man?"
+
+"No; engineer. I'm putting through the Hudson Bay Railroad."
+
+He spoke the words quite clearly and as they fell from his lips the
+half-breed, partly concealed in the gloom behind him, straightened with
+the alert quickness of a cat. He leaned forward eagerly, his black eyes
+gleaming, and then rose softly from his seat. His moccasined feet made
+no sound as he came up behind Howland. It was the big huskie who first
+gave a sign of his presence. For a moment the upturned eyes of the young
+engineer met those of the half-breed. That look gave Howland a glimpse
+of a face which he could never forget--a thin, dark, sensitive face
+framed in shining, jet-black hair, and a pair of eyes that were the most
+beautiful he had ever seen in a man. Sometimes a look decides great
+friendship or bitter hatred between men. And something, nameless,
+unaccountable, passed between these two. Not until the half-breed had
+turned and was walking swiftly away did Howland realize that he wanted
+to speak to him, to grip him by the hand, to know him by name. He
+watched the slender form of the Northerner, as lithe and as graceful in
+its movement as a wild thing of the forests, until it passed from the
+door out into the night.
+
+"Who was that?" he asked, turning to the factor.
+
+"His name is Croisset. He comes from the Wholdaia country, beyond Lac la
+Ronge."
+
+"French?"
+
+"Half French, half Cree."
+
+The factor resumed his steady gaze out into the white distance of the
+night, and Howland gave up his effort at conversation. After a little
+his companion shoved back his chair and bade him good night. The Crees
+and Chippewayan followed him, and a few minutes later the two white
+hunters left the engineer alone before the windows.
+
+"Mighty funny people," he said half aloud. "Wonder if they ever talk!"
+
+He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face resting in his hands, and
+stared to catch a sign of moving life outside. In him there was no
+desire for sleep. Often he had called himself a night-bird, but seldom
+had he been more wakeful than on this night. The elation of his triumph,
+of his success, had not yet worn itself down to a normal and reasoning
+satisfaction, and his chief longing was for the day, and the day after
+that, and the next day, when he would take the place of Gregson and
+Thorne. Every muscle in his body was vibrant in its desire for action.
+He looked at his watch. It was only ten o'clock. Since supper he had
+smoked almost ceaselessly. Now he lighted another cigar and stood up
+close to one of the windows.
+
+Faintly he caught the sound of a step on the board walk outside. It was
+a light, quick step, and for an instant it hesitated, just out of his
+vision. Then it approached, and suddenly the figure of a woman stopped
+in front of the window. How she was dressed Howland could not have told
+a moment later. All that he saw was the face, white in the white
+night--a face on which the shimmering starlight fell as it was lifted to
+his gaze, beautiful, as clear-cut as a cameo, with eyes that looked up
+at him half-pleadingly, half-luringly, and lips parted, as if about to
+speak to him. He stared, moveless in his astonishment, and in another
+breath the face was gone.
+
+With a hurried exclamation he ran across the empty room to the door and
+looked down the starlit street. To go from the window to the door took
+him but a few seconds, yet he found the street deserted--deserted except
+for a solitary figure three blocks away and a dog that growled at him
+as he thrust out his head and shoulders. He heard no sound of footsteps,
+no opening or closing of a door. Only there came to him that faint,
+hissing music of the northern skies, and once more, from the black
+forest beyond the Saskatchewan, the infinite sadness of the wolf-howl.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+LIPS THAT SPEAK NOT
+
+Howland was not a man easily susceptible to a pair of eyes and a pretty
+face. The practical side of his nature was too much absorbed in its
+devices and schemes for the building of material things to allow the
+breaking in of romance. At least Howland had always complimented himself
+on this fact, and he laughed a little nervously as he went back to his
+seat near the window. He was conscious that a flush of unusual
+excitement had leaped into his cheeks and already the practical side of
+him was ashamed of that to which the romantic side had surrendered.
+
+"The deuce, but she was pretty!" he excused himself. "And those eyes--"
+
+Suddenly he checked himself. There had been more than the eyes; more
+than the pretty face! Why had the girl paused in front of the window?
+Why had she looked at him so intently, as though on the point of speech?
+The smile and the flush left his face as these questions came to him and
+he wondered if he had failed to comprehend something which she had meant
+him to understand. After all, might it not have been a case of mistaken
+identity? For a moment she had believed that she recognized him--then,
+seeing her mistake, had passed swiftly down the street. Under ordinary
+circumstances Howland would have accepted this solution of the incident.
+But to-night he was in an unusual mood, and it quickly occurred to him
+that even if his supposition were true it did not explain the pallor in
+the girl's face and the strange entreaty which had glowed for an instant
+in her eyes.
+
+Anyway it was none of his business, and he walked casually to the door.
+At the end of the street, a quarter of a mile distant, a red light
+burned feebly over the front of a Chinese restaurant, and in a
+mechanical fashion his footsteps led him in that direction.
+
+"I'll drop in and have a cup of tea," he assured himself, throwing away
+the stub of his cigar and filling his lungs with great breaths of the
+cold, dry air. "Lord, but it's a glorious night! I wish Van Horn
+could see it."
+
+He stopped and turned his eyes again into the North. Its myriad stars,
+white and unshivering, the elusive play of the mysterious lights
+hovering over the pole, and the black edge of the wilderness beyond the
+river were holding a greater and greater fascination for him. Since
+morning, when he had looked on that wilderness for the first time in his
+life, new blood had entered into him, and he rejoiced that it was this
+wonderful world which was to hold for him success and fortune. Never had
+he dreamed that the mere joy of living would appeal to him as it did
+now; that the act of breathing, of seeing, of looking on wonders in
+which his hands had taken no part in the making, would fill him with the
+indefinable pleasure which had suddenly become his experience. He
+wondered, as he still stood gazing into the infinity of that other
+world beyond the Saskatchewan, if romance was really quite dead in him.
+Always he had laughed at romance. Work--the grim reality of action, of
+brain fighting brain, of cleverness pitted against other men's
+cleverness--had almost brought him to the point of regarding romance in
+life as a peculiar illusion of fools--and women. But he was fair in his
+concessions, and to-night he acknowledged that he had enjoyed the
+romance of what he had seen and heard. And most of all, his blood had
+been stirred by the beautiful face that had looked at him from out of
+the night.
+
+The tuneless thrumming of a piano sounded behind him. As he passed
+through the low door of the restaurant a man and woman lurched past him
+and in their irresolute faces and leering stare he read the verification
+of his suspicions of the place. Through a second door he entered a large
+room filled with tables and chairs, and pregnant with strange odors. At
+one of the farther tables sat a long-queued Chinaman with his head
+bowed in his arms. Behind a counter stood a second, as motionless as an
+obelisk in the half gloom of the dimly illuminated room, his evil face
+challenging Howland as he entered. The sound of a piano came from above
+and with a bold and friendly nod the young engineer mounted a pair
+of stairs.
+
+"Tough joint," he muttered, falling into his old habit of communing with
+himself. "Hope they make good tea."
+
+At the sound of his footsteps on the stair the playing of the piano
+ceased. He was surprised at what greeted him above. In startling
+contrast to the loathsome environment below he entered a luxuriously
+appointed room, heavily hung with oriental tapestries, and with half a
+dozen onyx tables partially concealed behind screens and gorgeously
+embroidered silk curtains. At one of these he seated himself and
+signaled for service with the tiny bell near his hand. In response there
+appeared a young Chinaman with close-cropped hair and attired in
+evening dress.
+
+"A pot of tea," ordered Howland; and under his breath he added, "Pretty
+deuced good for a wilderness town! I wonder--"
+
+He looked about him curiously. Although it was only eleven o'clock the
+place appeared to be empty. Yet Howland was reasonably assured that it
+was not empty. He was conscious of sensing in a vague sort of way the
+presence of others somewhere near him. He was sure that there was a
+faint, acrid odor lurking above that of burned incense, and he shrugged
+his shoulders with conviction when he paid a dollar for his pot of tea.
+
+"Opium, as sure as your name is Jack Howland," he said, when the waiter
+was gone. "I wonder again--how many pots of tea do they sell in
+a night?"
+
+He sipped his own leisurely, listening with all the eagerness of the new
+sense of freedom which had taken possession of him. The Chinaman had
+scarcely disappeared when he heard footsteps on the stair. In another
+instant a low word of surprise almost leaped from his lips. Hesitating
+for a moment in the doorway, her face staring straight into his own,
+was the girl whom he had seen through the hotel window!
+
+For perhaps no more than five seconds their eyes met. Yet in that time
+there was painted on his memory a picture that Howland knew he would
+never forget. His was a nature, because of the ambition imposed on it,
+that had never taken more than a casual interest in the form and feature
+of women. He had looked on beautiful faces and had admired them in a
+cool, dispassionate way, judging them--when he judged at all--as he
+might have judged the more material workmanship of his own hands. But
+this face that was framed for a few brief moments in the door reached
+out to him and stirred an interest within him which was as new as it was
+pleasurable. It was a beautiful face. He knew that in a fraction of the
+first second. It was not white, as he had first seen it through the
+window. The girl's cheeks were flushed. Her lips were parted, and she
+was breathing quickly, as though from the effect of climbing the stair.
+But it was her eyes that sent Howland's blood a little faster through
+his veins. They were glorious eyes.
+
+The girl turned from his gaze and seated herself at a table so that he
+caught only her profile. The change delighted him. It afforded him
+another view of the picture that had appeared to him in the doorway, and
+he could study it without being observed in the act, though he was
+confident that the girl knew his eyes were on her. He refilled his tiny
+cup with tea and smiled when he noticed that she could easily have
+seated herself behind one of the screens. From the flush in her cheeks
+his eyes traveled critically to the rich glow of the light in her
+shining brown hair, which swept half over her ears in thick, soft waves,
+caught in a heavy coil low on her neck. Then, for the first time, he
+noticed her dress. It puzzled him. Her turban and muff were of deep gray
+lynx fur. Around her shoulders was a collarette of the same material.
+Her hands were immaculately gloved. In every feature of her lovely face,
+in every point of her dress, she bore the indisputable mark of
+refinement. The quizzical smile left his lips. The thoughts which at
+first had filled his mind as quickly disappeared. Who was she? Why
+was she here?
+
+With cat-like quietness the young Chinaman entered between the screens
+and stood beside her. On a small tablet which Howland had not before
+observed she wrote her order. It was for tea. He noticed that she gave
+the waiter a dollar bill in payment and that the Chinaman returned
+seventy-five cents to her in change.
+
+"Discrimination," he chuckled to himself. "Proof that she's not a
+stranger here, and knows the price of things."
+
+He poured his last half cup of tea and when he lifted his eyes he was
+surprised to find that the girl was looking at him. For a brief interval
+her gaze was steady and clear; then the flush deepened in her cheeks;
+her long lashes drooped as the cold gray of Howland's eyes met hers in
+unflinching challenge, and she turned to her tea. Howland noted that the
+hand which lifted the little Japanese pot was trembling slightly. He
+leaned forward, and as if impelled by the movement, the girl turned her
+face to him again, the tea-urn poised above her cup. In her dark eyes
+was an expression which half brought him to his feet, a wistful glow, a
+pathetic and yet half-frightened appeal to him. He rose, his eyes
+questioning her, and to his unspoken inquiry her lips formed themselves
+into a round, red O, and she nodded to the opposite side of her table.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said, seating himself. "May I give you my card?"
+
+He felt as if there was something brutally indecent in what he was doing
+and the knowledge of it sent a red flush to his cheeks. The girl read
+his name, smiled across the table at him, and with a pretty gesture,
+motioned him to bring his cup and share her tea with her. He returned to
+his table and when he came back with the cup in his hand she was writing
+on one of the pages of the tablet, which she passed across to him.
+
+"You must pardon me for not talking," he read. "I can hear you very
+well, but I, unfortunately, am a mute."
+
+He could not repress the low ejaculation of astonishment that came to
+his lips, and as his companion lifted her cup he saw in her face again
+the look that had stirred him so strangely when he stood in the window
+of the Hotel Windsor. Howland was not a man educated in the trivialities
+of chance flirtations. He lacked finesse, and now he spoke boldly and to
+the point, the honest candor of his gray eyes shining full on the girl.
+
+"I saw you from the hotel window to-night," he began, "and something in
+your face led me to believe that you were in trouble. That is why I have
+ventured to be so bold. I am the engineer in charge of the new Hudson
+Bay Railroad, just on my way to Le Pas from Chicago. I'm a stranger in
+town. I've never been in this--this place before. It's a very nice
+tea-room, an admirable blind for the opium stalls behind those walls."
+
+In a few terse words he had covered the situation, as he would have
+covered a similar situation in a business deal. He had told the girl
+who and what he was, had revealed the cause of his interest in her, and
+at the same time had given her to understand that he was aware of the
+nature of their present environment. Closely he watched the effect of
+his words and in another breath was sorry that he had been so blunt. The
+girl's eyes traveled swiftly about her; he saw the quick rise and fall
+of her bosom, the swift fading of the color in her cheeks, the
+affrighted glow in her eyes as they came back big and questioning
+to him.
+
+"I didn't know," she wrote quickly, and hesitated. Her face was as white
+now as when Howland had looked on it through the window. Her hand
+trembled nervously and for an instant her lip quivered in a way that set
+Howland's heart pounding tumultuously within him. "I am a stranger,
+too," she added. "I have never been in this place before. I came
+because--"
+
+She stopped, and the catching breath in her throat was almost a sob as
+she looked at Howland. He knew that it took an effort for her to write
+the next words.
+
+"I came because you came."
+
+"Why?" he asked. His voice was low and assuring. "Tell me--why?"
+
+He read her words as she wrote them, leaning half across the table in
+his eagerness.
+
+"I am a stranger," she repeated. "I want some one to help me.
+Accidentally I learned who you were and made up my mind to see you at
+the hotel, but when I got there I was afraid to go in. Then I saw you in
+the window. After a little you came out and I saw you enter here. I
+didn't know what kind of place it was and I followed you. Won't you
+please go with me--to where I am staying--and I will tell you--"
+
+She left the sentence unfinished, her eyes pleading with him. Without a
+word he rose and seized his hat.
+
+"I will go, Miss--" He laughed frankly into her face, inviting her to
+write her name. For a moment she smiled back at him, the color
+brightening her cheeks. Then she turned and hurried down the stair.
+
+Outside Howland gave her his arm. His eyes, passing above her, caught
+again the luring play of the aurora in the north. He flung back his
+shoulders, drank in the fresh air, and laughed in the buoyancy of the
+new life that he felt.
+
+"It's a glorious night!" he exclaimed.
+
+The girl nodded, and smiled up at him. Her face was very near to his
+shoulder, ever more beautiful in the white light of the stars.
+
+They did not look behind them. Neither heard the quiet fall of
+moccasined feet a dozen yards away. Neither saw the gleaming eyes and
+the thin, dark face of Jean Croisset, the half-breed, as they walked
+swiftly in the direction of the Saskatchewan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS ATTACK
+
+Howland was glad that for a time there was an excuse for his silence. It
+began to dawn on him that this was an extraordinary adventure for a man
+on whose shoulders rested the responsibilities of one of the greatest
+engineering tasks on the continent, and who was due to take a train for
+the seat of his operations at eight o'clock in the morning. Inwardly he
+was experiencing some strange emotions; outwardly he smiled as he
+thought of what Van Horn would say if he knew the circumstances. He
+looked down at his companion; saw the sheen of her hair as it rippled
+out from under her fur turban, studied the soft contour of her cheek and
+chin, without himself being observed, and noticed, incidentally, that
+the top of the bewitching head beside him came just about to a level
+with his cigar which he was smoking. He wondered if he were making a
+fool of himself. If so, he assured himself that there was at least one
+compensation. This night in Prince Albert would not be so uninteresting
+as it had promised to be earlier in the evening.
+
+Where the river ferry was half drawn up on the shore, its stern frozen
+in the ice, he paused and looked down at the girl in quiet surprise. She
+nodded, smiling, and motioned across the river.
+
+"I was over there once to-night," said Howland aloud. "Didn't see any
+houses and heard nothing but wolves. Is that where we're going?"
+
+Her white teeth gleamed at him and he was conscious of a warm pressure
+against his arm as the girl signified that they were to cross. His
+perplexity increased. On the farther shore the forest came down to the
+river's edge in a black wall of spruce and balsam. Beyond that edge of
+the wilderness he knew that no part of Prince Albert intruded. It was
+possible that across from them was a squatter's cabin; and yet if this
+were so, and the girl was going to it, why had she told him that she was
+a stranger in the town? And why had she come to him for the assistance
+she promised to request of him instead of seeking it of those whom
+she knew?
+
+He asked himself these questions without putting them in words, and not
+until they were climbing up the frozen bank of the stream, with the
+shadows of the forest growing deeper about them, did he speak again.
+
+"You told me you were a stranger," he said, stopping his companion where
+the light of the stars fell on the face which she turned up to him. She
+smiled, and nodded affirmatively.
+
+"You seem pretty well acquainted over here," he persisted. "Where are we
+going?"
+
+This time she responded with an emphatic negative shake of her head, at
+the same time pointing with her free hand to the well-defined trail that
+wound up from the ferry landing into the forest. Earlier in the day
+Howland had been told that this was the Great North Trail that led into
+the vast wildernesses beyond the Saskatchewan. Two days before, the
+factor from Lac Bain, the Chippewayan and the Crees had come in over it.
+Its hard crust bore the marks of the sledges of Jean Croisset and the
+men from the Lac la Ronge country. Since the big snow, which had fallen
+four feet deep ten days before, a forest man had now and then used this
+trail on his way down to the edge of civilization; but none from Prince
+Albert had traveled it in the other direction. Howland had been told
+this at the hotel, and he shrugged his shoulders in candid bewilderment
+as he stared down into the girl's face. She seemed to understand his
+thoughts, and again her mouth rounded itself into that bewitching red O,
+which gave to her face an expression of tender entreaty, of pathetic
+grief that the soft lips were powerless to voice, the words which she
+wished to speak. Then, suddenly, she darted a few steps from Howland and
+with the toe of her shoe formed a single word in the surface of the
+snow. She rested her hand lightly on Howland's shoulder as he bent over
+to make it out in the elusive starlight.
+
+"Camp!" he cried, straightening himself. "Do you mean to say you're
+camping out here?"
+
+She nodded again and again, delighted that he understood her. There was
+something so childishly sweet in her face, in the gladness of her eyes,
+that Howland stretched out both his hands to her, laughing aloud. "You!"
+he exclaimed. "_You_--camping out here!" With a quick little movement
+she came to him, still laughing with her eyes and lips, and for an
+instant he held both her hands tight in his own. Her lovely face was
+dangerously near to him. He felt the touch of her breath on his face,
+for an instant caught the sweet scent of her hair. Never had he seen
+eyes like those that glowed up at him softly, filled with the gentle
+starlight; never in his life had he dreamed of a face like this, so near
+to him that it sent the blood leaping through his veins in strange
+excitement. He held the hands tighter, and the movement drew the girl
+closer to him, until for no more than a breath he felt her against his
+breast. In that moment he forgot all sense of time and place; forgot his
+old self--Jack Howland--practical, unromantic, master-builder of
+railroads; forgot everything but this presence of the girl, the warm
+pressure against his breast, the lure of the great brown eyes that had
+come so unexpectedly into his life. In another moment he had recovered
+himself. He drew a step back, freeing the girl's hands.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said softly. His cheeks burned hotly at what he
+had done, and turning squarely about he strode up the trail. He had not
+taken a dozen paces, when far ahead of him he saw the red glow of a
+fire. Then a hand caught his arm, clutching at it almost fiercely, and
+he turned to meet the girl's face, white now with a strange terror.
+
+"What is it?" he cried. "Tell me--"
+
+He caught her hands again, startled by the look in her eyes. Quickly she
+pulled herself away. A dozen feet behind her, in the thick shadows of
+the forest trees, something took shape and movement. In a flash Howland
+saw a huge form leap from the gloom and caught the gleam of an uplifted
+knife. There was no time for him to leap aside, no time for him to reach
+for the revolver which he carried in his pocket. In such a crisis one's
+actions are involuntary, machine-like, as if life, hovering by a thread,
+preserves itself in its own manner and without thought or reasoning on
+the part of the creature it animates.
+
+For an instant Howland neither thought nor reasoned. Had he done so he
+would probably have met his mysterious assailant, pitting his naked
+fists against the knife. But the very mainspring of his existence--which
+is self-preservation--called on him to do otherwise. Before the startled
+cry on his lips found utterance he flung himself face downward in the
+snow. The move saved him, and as the other stumbled over his body,
+pitching headlong into the trail, he snatched forth his revolver. Before
+he could fire there came a roar like that of a beast from behind him
+and a terrific blow fell on his head. Under the weight of a second
+assailant he was crushed to the snow, his pistol slipped from his grasp,
+and two great hands choked a despairing cry from his throat. He saw a
+face over him, distorted with passion, a huge neck, eyes that named like
+angry garnets. He struggled to free his pinioned arms, to wrench off the
+death-grip at his throat, but his efforts were like those of a child
+against a giant. In a last terrible attempt he drew up his knees inch by
+inch under the weight of his enemy; it was his only chance, his only
+hope. Even as he felt the fingers about his throat, sinking like hot
+iron into his flesh, and the breath slipping from his body, he
+remembered this murderous knee-punch taught to him by the rough fighters
+of the Inland Seas, and with all the life that remained in him he sent
+it crushing into the other's abdomen. It was a moment before he knew
+that it had been successful, before the film cleared from his eyes and
+he saw his assailant groveling in the snow. He rose to his feet, dazed
+and staggering from the effect of the blow on his head and the murderous
+grip at his throat. Half a pistol shot down the trail he saw
+indistinctly the twisting of black objects in the snow, and as he stared
+one of the objects came toward him.
+
+"Do not fire, M'seur Howland," he heard a voice call. "It ees I--Jean
+Croisset, a friend! Blessed Saints, that was--what you call heem?--close
+heem?--close call?"
+
+The half-breed's thin dark face came up smiling out of the white gloom.
+For a moment Howland did not see him, scarcely heard his words. Wildly
+he looked about him for the girl. She was gone.
+
+"I happened here--just in time--with a club," continued Croisset. "Come,
+we must go."
+
+The smile had gone from his face and there was a commanding firmness in
+the grip that fell on the young engineer's arm. Howland was conscious
+that things were twisting about him and that there was a strange
+weakness in his limbs. Dumbly he raised his hands to his head, which
+hurt him until he felt as if he must cry out in his pain.
+
+"The girl--" he gasped weakly.
+
+Croisset's arm tightened about his waist.
+
+"She ees gone!" Howland heard him say; and there was something in the
+half-breed's low voice that caused him to turn unquestioningly and
+stagger along beside him in the direction of Prince Albert.
+
+And yet as he went, only half-conscious of what he was doing, and
+leaning more and more heavily on his companion, he knew that it was more
+than the girl's disappearance that he wanted to understand. For as the
+blow had fallen on his head he was sure that he had heard a woman's
+scream; and as he lay in the snow, dazed and choking, spending his last
+effort in his struggle for life, there had come to him, as if from an
+infinite distance, a woman's voice, and the words that it had uttered
+pounded in his tortured brain now as his head dropped weakly against
+Croisset's shoulder.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, you are killing him--killing him!"
+
+He tried to repeat them aloud, but his voice sounded only in an
+incoherent murmur. Where the forest came down to the edge of the river
+the half-breed stopped.
+
+"I must carry you, M'seur Howland," he said; and as he staggered out on
+the ice with his inanimate burden, he spoke softly to himself, "The
+saints preserve me, but what would the sweet Meleese say if she knew
+that Jean Croisset had come so near to losing the life of this M'seur le
+engineer? _Ce monde est plein de fous!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+THE WARNING
+
+In only a subconscious sort of way was Howland cognizant of anything
+more that happened that night. When he came back into a full sense of
+his existence he found himself in his bed at the hotel. A lamp was
+burning low on the table. A glance showed him that the room was empty.
+He raised his head and shoulders from the pillows on which they were
+resting and the movement helped to bring him at once into a realization
+of what had happened. He was hurt. There was a dull, aching pain in his
+head and neck and when he raised an inquiring hand it came in contact
+with a thick bandage. He wondered if he were badly hurt and sank back
+again on the pillows, lying with his eyes staring at the faint glow of
+the lamp. Soon there came a sound at the door and he twisted his head,
+grimacing with the pain it caused him. Jean was looking in at him.
+
+"Ah, M'seur ees awake!" he said, seeing the wide-open eyes. He came in
+softly, closing the door behind him. "_Mon Dieu_, but if it had been a
+heavier club by the weight of a pound you would have gone into the
+blessed hereafter," he smiled, approaching with noiseless tread. He held
+a glass of water to Howland's lips.
+
+"Is it bad, Croisset?"
+
+"So bad that you will be in bed for a day or so, M'seur. That is all."
+
+"Impossible!" cried the young engineer. "I must take the eight o'clock
+train in the morning. I must be in Le Pas--"
+
+"It is five o'clock now," interrupted Jean softly. "Do you feel like
+going?"
+
+Howland straightened himself and fell back suddenly with a sharp cry.
+
+"The devil!" he exclaimed. After a moment he added, "There will be no
+other train for two days." As he raised a hand to his aching head, his
+other closed tightly about Jean's lithe brown fingers. "I want to thank
+you for what you did, Croisset. I don't know what happened. I don't know
+who they were or why they tried to kill me. There was a girl--I was
+going with her--"
+
+He dropped his hand in time to see the strange fire that had leaped into
+the half-breed's eyes. In astonishment he half lifted himself again, his
+white face questioning Croisset.
+
+"Do you know?" he whispered eagerly. "Who was she? Why did she lead me
+into that ambush? Why did they attempt to kill me?"
+
+The questions shot from him excitedly, and he knew from what he saw in
+the other's face that Croisset could have answered them. Yet from the
+thin tense lips above him there came no response. With a quick movement
+the half-breed drew away his hand and moved toward the door. Half way he
+paused and turned.
+
+"M'seur, I have come to you with a warning. Do not go to Le Pas. Do not
+go to the big railroad camp on the Wekusko. Return into the South." For
+an instant he leaned forward, his black eyes flashing, his hands
+clenched tightly at his sides. "Perhaps you will understand," he cried
+tensely, "when I tell you this warning is sent to you--by the
+little Meleese!"
+
+Before Howland could recover from his surprise Croisset had passed
+swiftly through the door. The engineer called his name, but there came
+no response other than the rapidly retreating sound of the Northerner's
+moccasined feet. With a grumble of vexation he sank back on his pillows.
+The fresh excitement had set his head in a whirl again and a feverish
+heat mounted into his face. For a long time he lay with his eyes closed,
+trying to clear for himself the mystery of the preceding night. The one
+thought which obsessed him was that he had been duped. His lovely
+acquaintance of the preceding evening had ensnared him completely with
+her gentle smile and her winsome mouth, and he gritted his teeth grimly
+as he reflected how easy he had been. Deliberately she had lured him
+into the ambush which would have proved fatal for him had it not been
+for Jean Croisset. And she was not a mute! He had heard her voice; when
+that death-grip was tightest about his throat there had come to him that
+terrified cry: "_Mon Dieu_, you are killing him--killing him!"
+
+His breath came a little faster as he whispered the words to himself.
+They appealed to him now with a significance which he had not understood
+at first. He was sure that in that cry there had been real terror;
+almost, he fancied, as he lay with his eyes shut tight, that he could
+still hear the shrill note of despair in the voice. The more he tried to
+reason the situation, the more inexplicable grew the mystery of it all.
+If the girl had calmly led him into the ambush, why, in the last moment,
+when success seemed about to crown her duplicity, had she cried out in
+that agony of terror? In Howland's heated brain there came suddenly a
+vision of her as she stood beside him in the white trail; he felt again
+the thrill of her hands, the touch of her breast for a moment against
+his own; saw the gentle look that had come into her deep, pure eyes; the
+pathetic tremor of the lips which seemed bravely striving to speak to
+him. Was it possible that face and eyes like those could have led him
+into a deathtrap! Despite the evidence of what had happened he found
+himself filled with doubt. And yet, after all, she had lied to him--for
+she was not a mute!
+
+He turned over with a groan and watched the door. When Croisset returned
+he would insist on knowing more about the strange occurrence, for he was
+sure that the half-breed could clear away at least a part of the
+mystery. Vainly, as he watched and waited, he racked his mind to find
+some reason for the murderous attack on himself. Who was "the little
+Meleese," whom Croisset declared had sent the warning? So far as he
+could remember he had never known a person by that name. And yet the
+half-breed had uttered it as though it would carry a vital meaning to
+him. "Perhaps you will understand," he had said, and Howland strove to
+understand, until his brain grew dizzy and a nauseous sickness
+overcame him.
+
+The first light of the day was falling faintly through the window when
+footsteps sounded outside the door again. It was not Croisset who
+appeared this time, but the proprietor himself, bearing with him a tray
+on which there was toast and a steaming pot of coffee. He nodded and
+smiled as he saw Howland half sitting up.
+
+"Bad fall you had," he greeted, drawing a small table close beside the
+bed. "This snow is treacherous when you're climbing among the rocks.
+When it caves in with you on the side of a mountain you might as well
+make up your mind you're going to get a good bump. Good thing Croisset
+was with you!"
+
+For a few moments Howland was speechless.
+
+"Yes--it--was--a--bad--fall," he replied at last, looking sharply at the
+other. "Where is Croisset?"
+
+"Gone. He left an hour ago with his dogs. Funny fellow--that Croisset!
+Came in yesterday from the Lac la Ronge country a hundred miles north;
+goes back to-day. No apparent reason for his coming, none for his going,
+that I can see."
+
+"Do you know anything about him?" asked Howland a little eagerly.
+
+"No. He comes in about once or twice a year."
+
+The young engineer munched his toast and drank his coffee for some
+moments in silence. Then, casually, he asked,
+
+"Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Meleese?"
+
+"Meleese--Meleese--Meleese--" repeated the hotel man, running a hand
+through his hair. "It seems to me that the name is familiar--and yet I
+can't remember--" He caught himself in sudden triumph. "Ah, I have it!
+Two years ago I had a kitchen woman named Meleese."
+
+Howland shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"This was a young woman," he said.
+
+"The Meleese we had is dead," replied the proprietor cheerfully, rising
+to go. "I'll send up for your tray in half an hour or so, Mr. Howland."
+
+Several hours later Howland crawled from his bed and bathed his head in
+cold water. After that he felt better, dressed himself, and went below.
+His head pained him considerably, but beyond that and an occasional
+nauseous sensation the injury he had received in the fight caused him no
+very great distress. He went in to dinner and by the middle of the
+afternoon was so much improved that he lighted his first cigar and
+ventured out into the bracing air for a short walk. At first it occurred
+to him that he might make inquiries at the Chinese restaurant regarding
+the identity of the girl whom he had met there, but he quickly changed
+his mind, and crossing the river he followed the trail which they had
+taken the preceding night. For a few moments he contemplated the marks
+of the conflict in the snow. Where he had first seen the half-breed
+there were blotches of blood on the crust.
+
+"Good for Croisset!" Howland muttered; "good for Croisset. It looks as
+though he used a knife."
+
+He could see where the wounded man had dragged himself up the trail,
+finally staggering to his feet, and with a caution which he had not
+exercised a few hours before Howland continued slowly between the thick
+forest walls, one hand clutching the butt of the revolver in his coat
+pocket. Where the trail twisted abruptly into the north he found the
+charred remains of a camp-fire in a small open, and just beyond it a
+number of birch toggles, which had undoubtedly been used in place of
+tent-stakes. With the toe of his boot he kicked among the ashes and
+half-burned bits of wood. There was no sign of smoke, not a living spark
+to give evidence that human presence had been there for many hours.
+There was but one conclusion to make; soon after their unsuccessful
+attempt on his life his strange assailants had broken camp and fled.
+With them, in all probability, had gone the girl whose soft eyes and
+sweet face had lured him within their reach.
+
+But where had they gone?
+
+Carefully he examined the abandoned camp. In the hard crust were the
+imprints of dogs' claws. In several places he found the faint, broad
+impression made by a toboggan. The marks at least cleared away the
+mystery of their disappearance. Sometime during the night they had fled
+by dog-sledge into the North.
+
+He was tired when he returned to the hotel and it was rather with a
+sense of disappointment than pleasure that he learned the work-train was
+to leave for Le Pas late that night instead of the next day. After a
+quiet hour's rest in his room, however, his old enthusiasm returned to
+him. He found himself feverishly anxious to reach Le Pas and the big
+camp on the Wekusko. Croisset's warning for him to turn back into the
+South, instead of deterring him, urged him on. He was born a fighter. It
+was by fighting that he had forced his way round by round up the ladder
+of success. And now the fact that his life was in danger, that some
+mysterious peril awaited him in the depths of the wilderness, but added
+a new and thrilling fascination to the tremendous task which was ahead
+of him. He wondered if this same peril had beset Gregson and Thorne, and
+if it was the cause of their failure, of their anxiety to return to
+civilization. He assured himself that he would know when he met them at
+Le Pas. He would discover more when he became a part of the camp on the
+Wekusko; that is, if the half-breed's warning held any significance at
+all, and he believed that it did. Anyway, he would prepare for
+developments. So he went to a gun-shop, bought a long-barreled
+six-shooter and a holster, and added to it a hunting-knife like that he
+had seen carried by Croisset.
+
+It was near midnight when he boarded the work-train and dawn was just
+beginning to break over the wilderness when it stopped at Etomami, from
+which point he was to travel by hand-car over the sixty miles of new
+road that had been constructed as far north as Le Pas. For three days
+the car had been waiting for the new chief of the road, but neither
+Gregson nor Thorne was with it.
+
+"Mr. Gregson is waiting for you at Le Pas," said one of the men who had
+come with it. "Thorne is at Wekusko."
+
+For the first time in his life Howland now plunged into the heart of the
+wilderness, and as mile after mile slipped behind them and he sped
+deeper into the peopleless desolation of ice and snow and forest his
+blood leaped in swift excitement, in the new joy of life which he was
+finding up here under the far northern skies. Seated on the front of the
+car, with the four men pumping behind him, he drank in the wild beauties
+of the forests and swamps through which they slipped, his eyes
+constantly on the alert for signs of the big game which his companions
+told him was on all sides of them.
+
+Everywhere about them lay white winter. The rocks, the trees, and the
+great ridges, which in this north country are called mountains, were
+covered with four feet of snow and on it the sun shone with dazzling
+brilliancy. But it was not until a long grade brought them to the top of
+one of these ridges and Howland looked into the north that he saw the
+wilderness in all of its grandeur. As the car stopped he sprang to his
+feet with a joyous cry, his face aflame with what he saw ahead of him.
+Stretching away under his eyes, mile after mile, was the vast white
+desolation that reached to Hudson Bay. In speechless wonder he gazed
+down on the unblazed forests, saw plains and hills unfold themselves as
+his vision gained distance, followed a frozen river until it was lost in
+the bewildering picture, and let his eyes rest here and there on the
+glistening, snow-smothered bosoms of lakes, rimmed in by walls of black
+forest. This was not the wilderness as he had expected it to be, nor as
+he had often read of it in books. It was not the wilderness that Gregson
+and Thorne had described in their letters. It was beautiful! It was
+magnificent! His heart throbbed with pleasure as he gazed down on it,
+the flush grew deeper in his face, and he seemed hardly to breathe in
+his tense interest.
+
+One of the four on the car was an old Indian and it was he, strangely
+enough, who broke the silence. He had seen the look in Howland's face,
+and he spoke softly, close to his ear, "Twent' t'ousand moose down
+there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No man--no house--more twent'
+t'ousand miles!"
+
+Howland, even quivering in his new emotion, looked into the old
+warrior's eyes, filled with the curious, thrilling gleam of the spirit
+which was stirring within himself. Then again he stared straight out
+into the unending distance as though his vision would penetrate far
+beyond the last of that visible desolation--on and on, even to the grim
+and uttermost fastnesses of Hudson Bay; and as he looked he knew that in
+these moments there had been born in him a new spirit, a new being; that
+no longer was he the old Jack Howland whose world had been confined by
+office walls and into whose conception of life there had seldom entered
+things other than those which led directly toward the achievement of his
+ambitions.
+
+The short northern day was nearing an end when once more they saw the
+broad Saskatchewan twisting through a plain below them, and on its
+southern shore the few log buildings of Le Pas hemmed in on three sides
+by the black forests of balsam and spruce. Lights were burning in the
+cabins and in the Hudson Bay Post's store when the car was brought to a
+halt half a hundred paces from a squat, log-built structure, which was
+more brilliantly illuminated than any of the others.
+
+"That's the hotel," said one of the men. "Gregson's there."
+
+A tall, fur-clad figure hurried forth to meet Howland as he walked
+briskly across the open. It was Gregson. As the two men gripped hands
+the young engineer stared at the other in astonishment. This was not
+the Gregson he had known in the Chicago office, round-faced, full of
+life, as active as a cricket.
+
+"Never so glad to see any one in my life, Howland!" he cried, shaking
+the other's hand again and again. "Another month and I'd be dead. Isn't
+this a hell of a country?"
+
+"I'm falling more in love with it at every breath, Gregson. What's the
+matter? Have you been sick?"
+
+Gregson laughed as they turned toward the lighted building. It was a
+short, nervous laugh, and with it he gave a curious sidewise glance at
+his companion's face.
+
+"Sick?--yes, sick of the job! If the old man hadn't sent us relief
+Thorne and I would have thrown up the whole thing in another four weeks.
+I'll warrant you'll get your everlasting fill of log shanties and
+half-breeds and moose meat and this infernal snow and ice before spring
+comes. But I don't want to discourage you."
+
+"Can't discourage me!" laughed Howland cheerfully. "You know I never
+cared much for theaters and girls," he added slyly, giving Gregson a
+good-natured nudge. "How about 'em up here?"
+
+"Nothing--not a cursed thing." Suddenly his eyes lighted up. "By George,
+Howland, but I _did_ see the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on
+to-day! I'd give a box of pure Havanas--and we haven't had one for a
+month!--if I could know who she is!"
+
+They had entered through the low door of the log boarding-house and
+Gregson was throwing off his heavy coat.
+
+"A tall girl, with a fur hat and muff?" queried Howland eagerly.
+
+"Nothing of the sort. She was a typical Northerner if there ever was
+one--straight as a birch, dressed in fur cap and coat, short caribou
+skin skirt and moccasins, and with a braid hanging down her back as long
+as my arm. Lord, but she was pretty!"
+
+"Isn't there a girl somewhere up around our camp named Meleese?" asked
+Howland casually.
+
+"Never heard of her," said Gregson.
+
+"Or a man named Croisset?"
+
+"Never heard of him."
+
+"The deuce, but you're interesting," laughed the young engineer,
+sniffing at the odors of cooking supper. "I'm as hungry as a bear!"
+
+From outside there came the sharp cracking of a sledge-driver's whip and
+Gregson went to one of the small windows looking out upon the clearing.
+In another instant he sprang toward the door, crying out to Howland,
+
+"By the god of love, there she is, old man! Quick, if you want to get a
+glimpse of her!"
+
+He flung the door open and Howland hurried to his side. There came
+another crack of the whip, a loud shout, and a sledge drawn by six dogs
+sped past them into the gathering gloom of the early night.
+
+From Howland's lips, too, there fell a sudden cry; for one of the two
+faces that were turned toward him for an instant was that of Croisset,
+and the other--white and staring as he had seen it that first night in
+Prince Albert--was the face of the beautiful girl who had lured him into
+the ambush on the Great North Trail!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+HOWLAND'S MIDNIGHT VISITOR
+
+For a moment after the swift passing of the sledge it was on Howland's
+lips to shout Croisset's name; as he thrust Gregson aside and leaped out
+into the night he was impelled with a desire to give chase, to overtake
+in some way the two people who, within the space of forty-eight hours,
+had become so mysteriously associated with his own life, and who were
+now escaping him again.
+
+It was Gregson who recalled him to his senses.
+
+"I thought you didn't care for theaters--_and girls_, Howland," he
+exclaimed banteringly, repeating Howland's words of a few minutes
+before. "A pretty face affects you a little differently up here, eh?
+Well, after you've been in this fag-end of the universe for a month or
+so you'll learn--"
+
+Howland interrupted him sharply.
+
+"Did you ever see either of them before, Gregson?"
+
+"Never until to-day. But there's hope, old man. Surely we can find some
+one in the place who knows them. Wouldn't it be jolly good fun if Jack
+Howland, Esquire, who has never been interested in theaters and girls,
+should come up into these God-forsaken regions and develop a case of
+love at first sight? By the Great North Trail, I tell you it may not be
+as uninteresting for you as it has been for Thorne and me! If I had only
+seen her sooner--"
+
+"Shut up!" growled Howland, betraying irritability for the first time.
+"Let's go in to supper."
+
+"Good. And I move that we investigate these people while we are smoking
+our after-supper cigars. It will pass our time away, at least."
+
+"Your taste is good, Gregson," said Howland, recovering his good-humor
+as they seated themselves at one of the rough board tables in the
+dining-room. Inwardly he was convinced it would be best to keep to
+himself the incidents of the past two days and nights. "It was a
+beautiful face."
+
+"And the eyes!" added Gregson, his own gleaming with enthusiasm. "She
+looked at me squarely this afternoon when she and that dark fellow
+passed, and I swear they're the most beautiful eyes I ever saw. And
+her hair--"
+
+"Do you think that she knew you?" asked Howland quietly.
+
+Gregson hunched his shoulders.
+
+"How the deuce could she know me?"
+
+"Then why did she look at you so 'squarely?' Trying to flirt, do you
+suppose?"
+
+Surprise shot into Gregson's face.
+
+"By thunder, no, she wasn't flirting!" he exclaimed. "I'd stake my life
+on that. A man never got a clearer, more sinless look than she gave me,
+and yet--Why, deuce take it, she _stared_ at me! I didn't see her again
+after that, but the dark fellow was in here half of the afternoon, and
+now that I come to think of it he did show some interest in me. Why
+do you ask?"
+
+"Just curiosity," replied Howland, "I don't like flirts."
+
+"Neither do I," said Gregson musingly. Their supper came on and they
+conversed but little until its end. Howland had watched his companion
+closely and was satisfied that he knew nothing of Croisset or the girl.
+The fact puzzled him more than ever. How Gregson and Thorne, two of the
+best engineers in the country, could voluntarily surrender a task like
+the building of the Hudson Bay Railroad simply because they were "tired
+of the country" was more than he could understand.
+
+It was not until they were about to leave the table that Howland's eyes
+accidentally fell on Gregson's left hand. He gave an exclamation of
+astonishment when he saw that the little finger was missing. Gregson
+jerked the hand to his side.
+
+"A little accident," he explained. "You'll meet 'em up here, Howland."
+
+Before he could move, the young engineer had caught his arm and was
+looking closely at the hand.
+
+"A curious wound," he remarked, without looking up. "Funny I didn't
+notice it before. Your finger was cut off lengthwise, and here's the
+scar running half way to your wrist. How did you do it?"
+
+He dropped the hand in time to see a nervous flush in the other's face.
+
+"Why--er--fact is, Howland, it was shot off several months ago--in an
+accident, of course." He hurried through the door, continuing to speak
+over his shoulder as he went, "Now for those after-supper cigars and our
+investigation."
+
+As they passed from the dining-room into that part of the inn which was
+half bar and half lounging-room, already filled with smoke and a dozen
+or so picturesque citizens of Le Pas, the rough-jowled proprietor of the
+place motioned to Howland and held out a letter.
+
+"This came while you was at supper, Mr. Howland," he explained.
+
+The engineer gave an inward start when he saw the writing on the
+envelope, and as he tore it open he turned so that Gregson could see
+neither his face nor the slip of paper which he drew forth. There was no
+name at the bottom of what he read. It was not necessary, for a glance
+had told him that the writing was that of the girl whose face he had
+seen again that night; and her words to him this time, despite his
+caution, drew a low whistle from his lips.
+
+"Forgive me for what I have done," the note ran. "Believe me now. Your
+life is in danger and you must go back to Etomami to-morrow. If you go
+to the Wekusko camp you will not live to come back."
+
+"The devil!" he exclaimed.
+
+"What's that?" asked Gregson, edging around him curiously.
+
+Howland crushed the note in his hand and thrust it into one of his
+pockets.
+
+"A little private affair," he laughed. "Comes Gregson, let's see what
+we can discover."
+
+In the gloom outside one of his hands slipped under his coat and rested
+on the butt of his revolver. Until ten o'clock they mixed casually among
+the populace of Le Pas. Half a hundred people had seen Croisset and his
+beautiful companion, but no one knew anything about them. They had come
+that forenoon on a sledge, had eaten their dinner and supper at the
+cabin of a Scotch tie-cutter named MacDonald, and had left on a sledge.
+
+"She was the sweetest thing I ever saw," exclaimed Mrs. MacDonald
+rapturously. "Only she couldn't talk. Two or three times she wrote
+things to me on a slip of paper."
+
+"Couldn't talk!" repeated Gregson, as the two men walked leisurely back
+to the boarding-house. "What the deuce do you suppose that means, Jack?"
+
+"I'm not supposing," replied Howland indifferently. "We've had enough of
+this pretty face, Gregson. I'm going to bed. What time do we start in
+the morning?"
+
+"As soon as we've had breakfast--if you're anxious."
+
+"I am. Good night."
+
+Howland went to his room, but it was not to sleep. For hours he sat
+wide-awake, smoking cigar after cigar, and thinking. One by one he went
+over the bewildering incidents of the past two days. At first they had
+stirred his blood with a certain exhilaration--a spice of excitement
+which was not at all unpleasant; but with this excitement there was now
+a peculiar sense of oppression. The attempt that had already been made
+on his life together with the persistent warnings for him to return into
+the South began to have their effect. But Howland was not a man to
+surrender to his fears, if they could be called fears. He was satisfied
+that a mysterious peril of some kind awaited him at the camp on the
+Wekusko, but he gave up trying to fathom the reason for this peril,
+accepting in his businesslike way the fact that it did exist, and that
+in a short time it would probably explain itself. The one puzzling
+factor which he could not drive out of his thoughts was the girl. Her
+sweet face haunted him. At every turn he saw it--now over the table in
+the opium den, now in the white starlight of the trail, again as it had
+looked at him for an instant from the sledge. Vainly he strove to
+discover for himself the lurking of sin in the pure eyes that had seemed
+to plead for his friendship, in the soft lips that had lied to him
+because of their silence. "Please forgive me for what I have done--" He
+unfolded the crumpled note and read the words again and again. "Believe
+me now--" She knew that he knew that she had lied to him, that she had
+lured him into the danger from which she now wished to save him. His
+cheeks burned. If a thousand perils threatened him on the Wekusko he
+would still go. He would meet the girl again. Despite his strongest
+efforts he found it impossible to destroy the vision of her beautiful
+face. The eyes, soft with appeal; the red mouth, quivering, and with
+lips parted as if about to speak to him; the head as he had looked down
+on it with its glory of shining hair--all had burned themselves on his
+soul in a picture too deep to be eradicated. If the wilderness was
+interesting to him before it was doubly so now because that face was a
+part of it, because the secret of its life, of the misery that it had
+half confessed to him, was hidden somewhere out in the black mystery of
+the spruce and balsam forests.
+
+He went to bed, but it was a long time before he fell asleep. It seemed
+to him that he had scarcely closed his eyes when a pounding on the door
+aroused him and he awoke to find the early light of dawn creeping
+through the narrow window of his room. A few minutes later he joined
+Gregson, who was ready for breakfast.
+
+"The sledge and dogs are waiting," he greeted. As they seated themselves
+at the table he added, "I've changed my mind since last night, Howland.
+I'm not going back with you. It's absolutely unnecessary, for Thorne
+can put you on to everything at the camp, and I'd rather lose six
+months' salary than take that sledge ride again. You won't mind,
+will you?"
+
+Howland hunched his shoulders.
+
+"To be honest, Gregson, I don't believe you'd be particularly cheerful
+company. What sort of fellow is the driver?"
+
+"We call him Jackpine--a Cree Indian--and he's the one faithful slave of
+Thorne and myself at Wekusko. Hunts for us, cooks for us, and watches
+after things generally. You'll like him all right."
+
+Howland did. When they went out to the sledge after their breakfast he
+gave Jackpine a hearty grip of the hand and the Cree's dark face lighted
+up with something like pleasure when he saw the enthusiasm in the young
+engineer's eyes. When the moment for parting came Gregson pulled his
+companion a little to one side. His eyes shifted nervously and Howland
+saw that he was making a strong effort to assume an indifference which
+was not at all Gregson's natural self.
+
+"Just a word, Howland," he said. "You know this is a pretty rough
+country up here--some tough people in it, who wouldn't mind cutting a
+man's throat or sending a bullet through him for a good team of dogs and
+a rifle. I'm just telling you this so you'll be on your guard. Have
+Jackpine watch your camp nights."
+
+He spoke in a low voice and cut himself short when the Indian
+approached. Howland seated himself in the middle of the six-foot
+toboggan, waved his hand to Gregson, then with a wild halloo and a
+snapping of his long caribou-gut whip Jackpine started his dogs on a
+trot down the street, running close beside the sledge. Howland had
+lighted a cigar, and leaning back in a soft mass of furs began to enjoy
+his new experience hugely. Day was just fairly breaking over the forests
+when they turned into the white trail, already beaten hard by the
+passing of many dogs and sledges, that led from Le Pas for a hundred
+miles to the camp on the Wekusko. As they struck the trail the dogs
+strained harder at their traces, with Jackpine's whip curling and
+snapping over their backs until they were leaping swiftly and with
+unbroken rhythm of motion over the snow. Then the Cree gathered in his
+whip and ran close to the leader's flank, his moccasined feet taking the
+short, quick, light steps of the trained forest runner, his chest thrown
+a little out, his eyes on the twisting trail ahead. It was a glorious
+ride, and in the exhilaration of it Howland forgot to smoke the cigar
+that he held between his fingers. His blood thrilled to the tireless
+effort of the grayish-yellow pack of magnificent brutes ahead of him; he
+watched the muscular play of their backs and legs, the eager
+out-reaching of their wolfish heads, their half-gaping jaws, and from
+them he looked at Jackpine. There was no effort in his running. His
+black hair swept back from the gray of his cap; like the dogs there was
+music in his movement, the beauty of strength, of endurance, of manhood
+born to the forests, and when the dogs finally stopped at the foot of a
+huge ridge, panting and half exhausted, Howland quickly leaped from the
+sledge and for the first time spoke to the Indian.
+
+"That was glorious, Jackpine!" he cried. "But, good Lord, man, you'll
+kill the dogs!"
+
+Jackpine grinned.
+
+"They go sixt' mile in day lak dat," He grinned.
+
+"Sixty miles!"
+
+In his admiration for the wolfish looking beasts that were carrying him
+through the wilderness Howland put out a hand to stroke one of them on
+the head. With a warning cry the Indian jerked him back just as the dog
+snapped fiercely at the extended hand.
+
+"No touch huskie!" he exclaimed. "Heem half wolf--half dog--work hard
+but no lak to be touch!"
+
+"Wow!" exclaimed Howland. "And they're the sweetest looking pups I ever
+laid eyes on. I'm certainly running up against some strange things in
+this country!"
+
+He was dead tired when night came. And yet never in all his life had he
+enjoyed a day so much as this one. Twenty times he had joined Jackpine
+in running beside the sledge. In their intervals of rest he had even
+learned to snap the thirty-foot caribou-gut lash of the dog-whip. He had
+asked a hundred questions, had insisted on Jackpine's smoking a cigar at
+every stop, and had been so happy and so altogether companionable that
+half of the Cree's hereditary reticence had been swept away before his
+unbounded enthusiasm. He helped to build their balsam shelter for the
+night, ate a huge supper of moose meat, hot-stone biscuits, beans and
+coffee, and then, just as he had stretched himself out in his furs for
+the night, he remembered Gregson's warning. He sat up and called to
+Jackpine, who was putting a fresh log on the big fire in front of
+the shelter.
+
+"Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night,
+Jackpine. What do you think about it?"
+
+The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a
+grin.
+
+"Gregson--heem ver' much 'fraid," he replied. "No bad man here--all down
+there and in camp. We kep' watch evr' night. Heem 'fraid--I guess
+so, mebby."
+
+"Afraid of what?"
+
+For a moment Jackpine was silent, half bending over the fire. Then he
+held out his left hand, with the little finger doubled out of sight, and
+pointed to it with his other hand.
+
+"Mebby heem finger ax'dent--mebby not," he said.
+
+A dozen eager questions brought no further suggestions from Jackpine. In
+fact, no sooner had the words fallen from his driver's lips than Howland
+saw that the Indian was sorry he had spoken them. What he had said
+strengthened the conviction which was slowly growing within him. He had
+wondered at Gregson's strange demeanor, his evident anxiety to get out
+of the country, and lastly at his desire not to return to the camp on
+the Wekusko with him. There was but one solution that came to him. In
+some way which he could not fathom Gregson was associated with the
+mystery which enveloped him, and adding the senior engineer's
+nervousness to the significance of Jackpine's words he was confident
+that the missing finger had become a factor in the enigma. How should he
+find Thorne? Surely he would give him an explanation--if there was an
+explanation to give. Or was it possible that they would leave him
+without warning to face a situation which was driving them back to
+civilization?
+
+He went to sleep, giving no further thought to the guarding of the camp.
+A piping hot breakfast was ready when Jackpine awakened him, and once
+more the exhilarating excitement of their swift race through the forests
+relieved him of the uncomfortable mental tension under which he began to
+find himself. During the whole of the day Jackpine urged the dogs
+almost to the limit of their endurance, and early in the afternoon
+assured his companion that they would reach the Wekusko by nightfall. It
+was already dark when they came out of the forest into a broad stretch
+of cutting beyond which Howland caught the glimmer of scattered lights.
+At the farther edge of the clearing the Cree brought his dogs to a halt
+close to a large log-built cabin half sheltered among the trees. It was
+situated several hundred yards from the nearest of the lights ahead, and
+the unbroken snow about it showed that it had not been used as a
+habitation for some time. Jackpine drew a key from his pocket and
+without a word unlocked and swung open the heavy door.
+
+Damp, cold air swept into the faces of the two as they stood for a
+moment peering into the gloom. Howland could hear the Cree chuckling in
+his inimitable way as he struck a match, and as a big hanging oil lamp
+flared slowly into light he turned a grinning face to the engineer.
+
+"Gregson um Thorne--heem mak' thees cabin when first kam to camp," he
+said softly. "No be near much noise--fine place in woods where be quiet
+nights. Live here time--then Gregson um Thorne go live in camp. Say too
+far 'way from man. But that not so. Thorne 'fraid--Gregson 'fraid--"
+
+He hunched his shoulders again as he opened the door of the big box
+stove which stood in the room.
+
+Howland asked no questions, but stared about him. Everywhere he saw
+evidences of the taste and one-time tenancies of the two senior
+engineers. Heavy bear rugs lay on the board floor; the log walls, hewn
+almost to polished smoothness, were hung with half a dozen pictures; in
+one corner was a bookcase still filled with books, in another a lounge
+covered with furs, and in this side of the room was a door which Howland
+supposed must open into the sleeping apartment. A fire was roaring in
+the big stove before he finished his inspection and as he squared his
+shivering back to the heat he pulled out his pipe and smiled cheerfully
+at Jackpine.
+
+"Afraid, eh? And am I to stay here?"
+
+"Gregson um Thorne say yes."
+
+"Well, Jackpine, you just hustle over to the camp and tell Thorne I'm
+here, will you?"
+
+For a moment the Indian hesitated, then went out and closed the door
+after him.
+
+"Afraid!" exclaimed Howland when he had gone. "Now what the devil are
+they afraid of? It's deuced queer, Gregson--and ditto, Thorne. If you're
+not the cowards I'm half believing you to be you won't leave me in the
+dark to face something from which you are running away."
+
+He lighted a small lamp and opened the door leading into the other room.
+It was, as he had surmised, the sleeping chamber. The bed, a single
+chair and a mirror and stand were its sole furnishing.
+
+Returning to the larger room, he threw off his coat and hat and seated
+himself comfortably before the fire. Ten minutes later the door opened
+again and Jackpine entered. He was supporting another figure by the arm,
+and as Howland stared into the bloodless face of the man who came with
+him, he could not repress the exclamation of astonishment which rose to
+his lips. Three months before he had last seen Thorne in Chicago; a man
+in the prime of life, powerfully built, as straight as a tree, the most
+efficient and highest paid man in the company's employ. How often had he
+envied Thorne! For years he had been his ideal of a great engineer.
+And now--
+
+He stood speechless. Slowly, as if the movement gave him pain, Thorne
+slipped off the great fur coat from about his shoulders. One of his arms
+was suspended in a sling. His huge shoulders were bent, his eyes wild
+and haggard. The smile that came to his lips as he held out a hand to
+Howland gave to his death-white face an appearance even more ghastly.
+
+"Hello, Jack!" he greeted. "What's the matter, man? Do I look like a
+ghost?"
+
+"What is the matter, Thorne? I found Gregson half dying at Le Pas, and
+now you--"
+
+"It's a wonder you're not reading my name on a little board slab instead
+of seeing yours truly in flesh and blood, Jack," laughed Thorne
+nervously. "A ton of rock, man--a ton of rock, and I was under it!"
+
+Over Thorne's shoulder the young engineer caught a glimpse of the Cree's
+face. A dark flash had shot into his eyes. His teeth gleamed for an
+instant between his tense lips in something that might have been
+a sneer.
+
+Thorne sat down, rubbing his hands before the fire.
+
+"We've been unfortunate, Jack," he said slowly. "Gregson and I have had
+the worst kind of luck since the day we struck this camp, and we're no
+longer fit for the job. It will take us six months to get on our feet
+again. You'll find everything here in good condition. The line is blazed
+straight to the bay; we've got three hundred good men, plenty of
+supplies, and so far as I know you'll not find a disaffected hand on
+the Wekusko. Probably Gregson and I will take hold of the Le Pas end of
+the line in the spring. It's certainly up to you to build the roadway
+to the bay."
+
+"I'm sorry things have gone badly," replied Howland. He leaned forward
+until his face was close to his companion's. "Thorne, is there a man up
+here named Croisset--or a girl called Meleese?"
+
+He watched the senior engineer closely. Nothing to confirm his
+suspicions came into Thorne's face. Thorne looked up, a little surprised
+at the tone of the other's voice.
+
+"Not that I know of, Jack. There may be a man named Croisset among our
+three hundred workers--you can tell by looking at the pay-roll. There
+are fifteen or twenty married men among us and they have families.
+Gregson knows more about the girls than I. Anything particular?"
+
+"Just a word I've got for them--if they're here," replied Howland
+carelessly. "Are these my quarters?"
+
+"If you like them. When I got hurt we moved up among the men. Brought us
+into closer touch with the working end, you know."
+
+"You and Gregson must have been laid up at about the same time," said
+the young engineer. "That was a painful wound of Gregson's. I wonder who
+the deuce it was who shot him? Funny that a man like Gregson should have
+an enemy!"
+
+Thorne sat up with a jerk. There came the rattle of a pan from the
+stove, and Howland turned his head in time to see Jackpine staring at
+him as though he had exploded a mine under his feet.
+
+"Who shot him?" gasped the senior engineer. "Why--er--didn't Gregson
+tell you that it was an accident?"
+
+"Why should he lie, Thorne?"
+
+A faint flush swept into the other's pallid face. For a moment there was
+a penetrating glare in his eyes as he looked at Howland. Jackpine still
+stood silent and motionless beside the stove.
+
+"He told me that it was an accident," said Thorne at last.
+
+"Funny," was all that Howland said, turning to the Indian as though the
+matter was of no importance. "Ah, Jackpine, I'm glad to see the
+coffee-pot on. I've got a box of the blackest and mildest Porto Ricans
+you ever laid eyes on in my kit, Thorne, and we'll open 'em up for a
+good smoke after supper. Hello, why have you got boards nailed over
+that window?"
+
+For the first time Howland noticed that the thin muslin curtain, which
+he thought had screened a window, concealed, in place of a window, a
+carefully fitted barricade of plank. A sudden thrill shot through him as
+he rose to examine it. With his back toward Thorne he said, half
+laughing, "Perhaps Gregson was afraid that the fellow who clipped off
+his finger would get him through the window, eh?"
+
+He pretended not to perceive the effect of his words on the senior
+engineer. The two sat down to supper and for an hour after they had
+finished they smoked and talked on the business of the camp. It was ten
+o'clock when Thorne and Jackpine left the cabin.
+
+No sooner had they gone than Howland closed and barred the door, lighted
+another cigar, and began pacing rapidly up and down the room. Already
+there were developments. Gregson had lied to him about his finger.
+Thorne had lied to him about his own injuries, whatever they were. He
+was certain of these two things--and of more. The two senior engineers
+were not leaving the Wekusko because of mere dissatisfaction with the
+work and country. They were fleeing. And for some reason they were
+keeping from him the real motive for their flight. Was it possible that
+they were deliberately sacrificing him in order to save themselves? He
+could not bring himself to believe this, notwithstanding the evidence
+against them. Both were men of irreproachable honor. Thorne,
+especially, was a man of indomitable nerve--a man who would be the last
+in the world to prove treacherous to a business associate or a friend.
+He was sure that neither of them knew of Croisset or of the beautiful
+girl whom he had met at Prince Albert, which led him to believe that
+there were other characters in the strange plot in which he had become
+involved besides those whom he had encountered on the Great North Trail.
+Again he examined the barricaded window and he was more than ever
+convinced that his chance hit at Thorne had struck true.
+
+He was tired from his long day's travel but little inclination to sleep
+came to him, and stretching himself out on the lounge with his head and
+shoulders bolstered up with furs, he continued to smoke and think. He
+was surprised when a little clock tinkled the hour of eleven. He had not
+seen the clock before. Now he listened to the faint monotonous ticking
+it made close to his head until he felt an impelling drowsiness creeping
+over him and he closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when it struck
+again--softly, and yet with sufficient loudness to arouse him. It had
+struck twelve.
+
+With an effort Howland overcame his drowsiness and dragged himself to a
+sitting posture, knowing that he should undress and go to bed. The lamp
+was still burning brightly and he arose to turn down the wick. Suddenly
+he stopped. To his dulled senses there came distinctly the sound of a
+knock at the door. For a few moments he waited, silent and motionless.
+It came again, louder than before, and yet in it there was something of
+caution. It was not the heavy tattoo of one who had come to awaken him
+on a matter of business.
+
+Who could be his midnight visitor? Softly Howland went back to his heavy
+coat and slipped his small revolver into his hip pocket. The knock came
+again. Then he walked to the door, shot back the bolt, and, with his
+right hand gripping the butt of his pistol, flung it wide open.
+
+For a moment he stood transfixed, staring speechlessly at a white,
+startled face lighted up by the glow of the oil lamp. Bewildered to the
+point of dumbness, he backed slowly, holding the door open, and there
+entered the one person in all the world whom he wished most to see--she
+who had become so strangely a part of his life since that first night at
+Prince Albert, and whose sweet face was holding a deeper meaning for him
+with every hour that he lived. He closed the door and turned, still
+without speaking; and, impelled by a sudden spirit that sent the blood
+thrilling through his veins, he held out both hands to the girl for whom
+he now knew that he was willing to face all of the perils that might
+await him between civilization and the bay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+THE LOVE OF A MAN
+
+For a moment the girl hesitated, her ungloved hands clenched on her
+breast, her bloodless face tense with a strange grief, as she saw the
+outstretched arms of the man whom her treachery had almost lured to his
+death. Then, slowly, she approached, and once more Howland held her
+hands clasped to him and gazed questioningly down into the wild eyes
+that stared into his own.
+
+"Why did you run away from me?" were the first words that he spoke. They
+came from him gently, as if he had known her for a long time. In them
+there was no tone of bitterness; in the warmth of his gray eyes there
+was none of the denunciation which she might have expected. He repeated
+the question, bending his head until he felt the soft touch of her hair
+on his lips. "Why did you run away from me?"
+
+She drew away from him, her eyes searching his face.
+
+"I lied to you," she breathed, her words coming to him in a whisper. "I
+lied--"
+
+The words caught in her throat. He saw her struggling to control
+herself, to stop the quivering of her lip, the tremble in her voice. In
+another moment she had broken down, and with a low, sobbing cry sank in
+a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms. As Howland saw
+the convulsive trembling of her shoulders, his soul was flooded with a
+strange joy--not at this sight of her grief, but at the knowledge that
+she was sorry for what she had done. Softly he approached. The girl's
+fur cap had fallen off. Her long, shining braid was half undone and its
+silken strands fell over her shoulder and glistened in the lamp-glow on
+the table. His hand hesitated, and then fell gently on the bowed head.
+
+"Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true," he said.
+"I believe that it was necessary for you to--lie."
+
+Just once his hand stroked her soft hair, then, catching himself, he
+went to the opposite side of the narrow table and sat down. When the
+girl raised her head there was a bright flush in her cheeks. He could
+see the damp stain of tears on her face, but there was no sign of them
+now in the eyes that seemed seeking in his own the truth of his words,
+spoken a few moments before.
+
+"You believe that?" she questioned eagerly. "You believe that it was
+necessary for me to--lie?" She leaned a little toward him, her fingers
+twining themselves about one another nervously, as she waited for him
+to answer.
+
+"Yes," said Howland. He spoke the one word with a finality that sent a
+gladness into the soft brown eyes across from him. "I believe that you
+_had_ to lie to me."
+
+His low voice was vibrant with unbounded faith. Other words were on his
+lips, but he forced them back. A part of what he might have said--a part
+of the strange, joyous tumult in his heart--betrayed itself in his face,
+and before that betrayal the girl drew back slowly, the color fading
+from her cheeks.
+
+"And I believe you will not lie to me again," he said.
+
+She rose to her feet and flung back her hair, looking down on him in the
+manner of one who had never before met this kind of man, and knew not
+what to make of him.
+
+"No, I will not lie to you again," she replied, more firmly. "Do you
+believe me now?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then go back into the South. I have come to tell you that again
+to-night--to _make_ you believe me. You should have turned back at Le
+Pas. If you don't go--to-morrow--"
+
+Her voice seemed to choke her, and she stood without finishing, leaving
+him to understand what she had meant to say. In an instant Howland was
+at her side. Once more his old, resolute fighting blood was up. Firmly
+he took her hands again, his eyes compelling her to look up at him.
+
+"If I don't go to-morrow--they will kill me," he completed, repeating
+the words of her note to him. "Now, if you are going to be honest with
+me, tell me this--_who_ is going to kill me, and _why_?"
+
+He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her as she answered,
+
+"I said that I would not lie to you again. If I can not tell you the
+truth I will tell you nothing. It is impossible for me to say why your
+life is in danger."
+
+"But you know?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He seated her again in the chair beside the table and sat down opposite
+her.
+
+"Will you tell me who you are?"
+
+She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her
+hair. "Will you?" he persisted.
+
+"If I tell you who I am," she said at last, "you will know who is
+threatening your life."
+
+He stated at her in astonishment.
+
+"The devil, you say!" The words slipped from his lips before he could
+stop them. For a second time the girl rose from her chair.
+
+"You will go?" she entreated. "You will go to-morrow?"
+
+Her hand was on the latch of the door.
+
+"You will go?"
+
+He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp.
+Laughing, he came toward her.
+
+"Yes, surely I am going--to see you safely home." Suddenly he turned
+back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he
+returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door.
+
+"You can not go!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
+"Because they will kill you!"
+
+The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.
+
+"I am glad that you care," he whispered to her softly.
+
+"You must go!" she still persisted.
+
+"With you, yes," he answered.
+
+"No, no--to-morrow. You must go back to Le Pas--back into the South.
+Will you promise me that?"
+
+"Perhaps," he said. "I will tell you soon." She surrendered to the
+determination in his voice and allowed him to pass out into the night
+with her. Swiftly she led him along a path that ran into the deep gloom
+of the balsam and spruce. He could hear the throbbing of her heart and
+her quick, excited breathing as she stopped, one of her hands clasping
+him nervously by the arm.
+
+"It is not very far--from here," she whispered "You must not go with me.
+If they saw me with you--at this hour--" He felt her shuddering
+against him.
+
+"Only a little farther," he begged.
+
+She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than
+before, until they came to where a few faint lights in the camp were
+visible ahead of them.
+
+"Now--now you must go!"
+
+Howland turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side.
+
+"You have not promised," she entreated. "Will you go--to-morrow?"
+
+In the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him in the gloom
+Howland saw again the strange, sweet power that had taken possession of
+his soul. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known
+this girl for only a few hours, that until to-night he had heard no word
+pass from her lips. He was conscious only that in the space of those few
+hours something had come into his life which he had never known before;
+and a deep longing to tell her this, to take her sweet face between his
+hands, as they stood in the gloom of the forest, and to confess to her
+that she had become more to him than a passing vision in a strange
+wilderness filled him. That night he had forgotten half of the strenuous
+lesson he had striven years to master; success, ambition, the mere joy
+of achievement, were for the first time sunk under a greater thing for
+him--the pulsating, human presence of this girl; and as he looked down
+into her face, pleading with him still in its white, silent terror, he
+forgot, too, what this woman was or might have been, knowing only that
+to him she had opened a new and glorious world filled with a promise
+that stirred his blood like sharp wine. He crushed her hands once more
+to his breast as he had done on the Great North Trail, holding her so
+close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom against him. He
+spoke no word--and still her eyes pleaded with him to go. Suddenly he
+freed one of his hands and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and
+turned her face gently, until what dim light came down from the stars
+above glowed in the beauty of her eyes. In his own face she saw that
+which he had not dared to speak, and from her lips there came a soft
+little sobbing cry.
+
+"No, I have not promised--and I will not promise," he said, holding her
+face so that she could not look away from him. "Forgive me
+for--for--doing this--" And before she could move he caught her for a
+moment close in his arms, holding her so that he felt the quick beating
+of her heart against his own, the sweep of her hair and breath in his
+face. "This is why I will not go back," he cried softly. "It is because
+I love you--love you--"
+
+He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him
+her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms
+to her.
+
+"You will forgive me!" he begged. "I do not mean to do wrong. Only, you
+must know why I shall not go back into the South."
+
+From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
+Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke,
+but its sweetness thrilled him.
+
+"If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"I?" He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. "Very soon you will
+forget that you have--ever--seen--me."
+
+From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the
+girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands.
+
+"Go! Go!" she cried tensely. "Hurry back to the cabin! Lock your
+door--and don't come out again to-night! Oh, please, if you love me,
+please, go--"
+
+The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish
+dark shadows between the thinned walls of the forest. He laughed softly.
+
+"I am not going to run, little girl," he whispered. "See?" He drew his
+revolver so that it gleamed in the light of the stars.
+
+With a frightened gasp the girl pulled him into the thick bushes beside
+the path until they stood a dozen paces from where those who were coming
+down the trail would pass. There was a silence as Howland slipped his
+weapon back into its holster. Then the voices came again, very near, and
+at the sound of them his companion shrank close to him, her hands
+clutching his arms, her white, frightened face raised to him in piteous
+appeal. His blood leaped through him like fire. He knew that the girl
+had recognized the voices--that they who were about to pass him were the
+mysterious enemies against whom she had warned him. Perhaps they were
+the two who had attacked him on the Great North Trail. His muscles grew
+tense. The girl could feel them straining under her hands, could feel
+his body grow rigid and alert. His hand fell again on his revolver; he
+made a step past her, his eyes flashing, his face as set as iron.
+Almost sobbing, she pressed herself against his breast, holding
+him back.
+
+"Don't--don't--don't--" she whispered.
+
+They could hear the cracking of brush under the feet of those who were
+approaching. Suddenly the sounds ceased not twenty paces away.
+
+From his arms the girl's hands rose slowly to his shoulders, to his
+face, caressingly, pleadingly; her beautiful eyes glowed, half with
+terror, half with a prayer to him.
+
+"Don't!" she breathed again, so close that her sweet breath fell warm on
+his face. "Don't--if you--if you care for me!"
+
+Gently he drew her close in his arms, crushing her face to his breast,
+kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth.
+
+"I love you," he whispered again and again.
+
+The steps were resumed, the voices died away. Then there came a pressure
+against his breast, a gentle resistance, and he opened his arms so that
+the girl drew back from him. Her lips were smiling at him, and in that
+smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and he
+could see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks
+and a dazzling glow into her eyes.
+
+"They are gone," she said tremblingly.
+
+"Yes; they are gone."
+
+He stood looking down into her glowing face in silence. Then, "They are
+gone," he repeated. "They were the men who tried to kill me at Prince
+Albert. I have let them go--for you. Will you tell me your name?"
+
+"Yes--that much--now. It is Meleese."
+
+"Meleese!"
+
+The name fell from him sharply. In an instant there recurred to him all
+that Croisset had said, and there almost came from his lips the
+half-breed's words, which had burned themselves in his memory, "Perhaps
+you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the
+little Meleese." What had Croisset meant?
+
+"Meleese," he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face.
+
+"Yes--Meleese--"
+
+She drew back from him slowly, the color fading from her cheeks; and as
+she saw the light in his eyes, there burst from her a short,
+stifled cry.
+
+"Now--you understand--you understand why you must go back into the
+South," she almost sobbed. "Oh, I have sinned to tell you my name! But
+you will go, won't you? You will go--for me--"
+
+"For you I would go to the end of the earth!" interrupted Howland, his
+pale face near to her. "But you must tell me why. I don't understand
+you. I don't know why those men tried to kill me in Prince Albert. I
+don't know why my life is in danger here. Croisset told me that my
+warning back there came from a girl named Meleese. I didn't understand
+him. I don't understand you. It is all a mystery to me. So far as I know
+I have never had enemies. I never heard your name until Croisset spoke
+it. What did he mean? What do you mean? Why do you want to drive me
+from the Wekusko? Why is my life in danger? It is for you to tell me
+these things. I have been honest with you. I love you. I will fight for
+you if it is necessary--but you must tell me--tell me--"
+
+His breath was hot in her face, and she stared at him as if what she
+heard robbed her of the power of speech.
+
+"Won't you tell me?" he whispered, more softly. "Meleese--" She made no
+effort to resist him as he drew her once more in his arms, crushing her
+sweet lips to his own. "Meleese, won't you tell me?"
+
+Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head,
+looking squarely into his eyes.
+
+"If I tell you," she said softly, "and in telling you I betray those
+whom I love, will you promise to bring harm to none of them, but go--go
+back into the South?"
+
+"And leave you?"
+
+"Yes--and leave me."
+
+There was the faintest tremor of a sob in the voice which she was
+trying so hard to control. His arms tightened about her.
+
+"I will swear to do what is best for you--and for me," he replied. "I
+will swear to bring harm to none whom you care to shield. But I will not
+promise to leave you!"
+
+A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and
+stood back from him.
+
+"I will think--think--" she whispered quickly. "Perhaps I will tell you
+to-morrow night--here--if you will keep your oath and do what is best
+for you--and for me."
+
+"I swear it!"
+
+"Then I will meet you here--at this time--when the others are asleep.
+But--to-morrow--you will be careful--careful--" Unconsciously she half
+reached her arms out to him as she turned toward the path. "You will be
+careful--to-morrow--promise me that."
+
+"I promise."
+
+Like a shadow she was gone. He heard her quick steps running up the
+path, saw her form as it disappeared in the forest gloom. For a few
+moments longer he stood, hardly breathing, until he knew that she had
+gone beyond his hearing. Then he walked swiftly along the footpath that
+led to the cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+THE BLOWING OF THE COYOTE
+
+In the new excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being,
+Howland forgot his own danger, forgot his old caution and the fears that
+gave birth to it, forgot everything in these moments but Meleese and his
+own great happiness. For he was happy, happier than he had ever been in
+his life, happier than he had ever expected to be. He was conscious of
+no madness in this strange, new joy that swept through his being like a
+fire; he did not stop to weigh with himself the unreasoning impulses
+that filled him. He had held Meleese in his arms, he had told her of his
+love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness he was
+thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes, which had spoken
+faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. And his faith in her had
+become as limitless as the blue space above him. He had known her for
+but a few hours and yet in that time it seemed to him that he had lived
+longer than in all of the years that had gone before. She had lied to
+him, had divulged only a part of her identity--and yet he knew that
+there were reasons for these things.
+
+To-morrow night he would see her again, and then--
+
+What would she tell him? Whatever it was, it was to be a reward for his
+own love. He knew that, by the half-fearing tremble of her voice, the
+sobbing catch of her breath, the soft glow in her eyes. Impelled by that
+love, would she confide in him? And then--would he go back into
+the South?
+
+He laughed, softly, joyfully.
+
+Yes, he would go back into the South--he would go to the other end of
+the earth, if she would go with him. What was the building of this
+railroad now to that other great thing that had come into his life? For
+the first time he saw duty in another light. There were others who
+could build the road; success, fortune, ambition--in the old way he had
+seen them--were overshadowed now by this love of a girl.
+
+He stopped and lighted his pipe. The fragrant odor of the tobacco, the
+flavor of the warm smoke in his mouth, helped to readjust him, to cool
+his heated brain. The old fighting instincts leaped into life again. Go
+into the South? He asked himself the question once more, and in the
+gloomy silence of the forest his low laugh fell again as he clenched his
+hands in anticipation of what was ahead of him. No--he would build the
+road! And in building it he would win this girl, if it was given for him
+to possess her.
+
+His saner thoughts brought back his caution. He went more slowly toward
+the cabin, keeping in the deep shadows and stopping now and then to
+listen. At the edge of the clearing he paused for a long time. There was
+no sign of life about the cabin abandoned by Gregson and Thorne. It was
+probable that the two men who had passed along the path had returned to
+the camp by another trail, and still keeping as much within the shadows
+as possible he went to the door and entered.
+
+With his feet propped in front of the big box stove sat Jackpine. The
+Indian rose as Howland entered, and something in the sullen gloom of his
+face caused the young engineer to eye him questioningly.
+
+"Any one been here, Jackpine?"
+
+The old sledge-driver gave his head a negative shake and hunched his
+shoulders, pointing at the same time to the table, on which lay a
+carefully folded piece of paper.
+
+"Thorne," he grunted.
+
+Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp, and read:
+
+"MY DEAR HOWLAND:
+
+"I forgot to tell you that our mail sledge starts for Le Pas to-morrow
+at noon, and as I'm planning on going down with it I want you to get
+over as early as you can in the morning. Can put you on to everything in
+the camp between eight and twelve. THORNE."
+
+A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips.
+
+"Where do you sleep, Jackpine?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Cabin in edge of woods," replied the Indian.
+
+"How about breakfast? Thorne hasn't put me on to the grub line yet."
+
+"Thorne say you eat with heem in mornin'. I come early--wake you. After
+heem go--to-morrow--eat here."
+
+"You needn't wake me," said Howland, throwing off his coat. "I'll find
+Thorne--probably before he's up. Good night."
+
+Jackpine had half opened the door, and for a moment the engineer caught
+a glimpse of his dark, grinning face looking back over his shoulder. He
+hesitated, as if about to speak, and then with a mouthful of his
+inimitable chuckles, he went out.
+
+After bolting the door Howland lighted a small table lamp, entered the
+sleeping room and prepared for bed.
+
+"Got to have a little sleep no matter if things are going off like a
+Fourth of July celebration," he grumbled, and rolled between the sheets.
+
+In spite of his old habit of rising with the breaking of dawn it was
+Jackpine who awakened him a few hours later. The camp was hardly astir
+when he followed the Indian down among the log cabins to Thorne's
+quarters. The senior engineer was already dressed.
+
+"Sorry to hustle you so, Howland," he greeted, "but I've got to go down
+with the mail. Just between you and me I don't believe the camp doctor
+is much on his job. I've got a deuced bad shoulder and a worse arm, and
+I'm going down to a good surgeon as fast as I can."
+
+"Didn't they send Weston up with you?" asked Howland. He knew that
+Weston was the best "accident man" in the company's employ.
+
+"Yes--Weston," replied the senior, eying him sharply. "I don't mean to
+say he's not a good man, Howland," he amended quickly. "But he doesn't
+quite seem to take hold of this hurt of mine. By the way, I looked over
+our pay-roll and there is no Croisset on it."
+
+For an hour after breakfast the two men were busy with papers, maps and
+drawings relative to the camp work. Howland had kept in close touch with
+operations from Chicago and by the time they were ready to leave for
+outside inspection he was confident that he could take hold without the
+personal assistance of either Gregson or Thorne. Before that hour had
+passed he was certain of at least one other thing--that it was not
+incompetency that was taking the two senior engineers back to the home
+office. He had half expected to find the working-end in the same
+disorganized condition as its chiefs. But if Gregson and Thorne had been
+laboring under a tremendous strain of some kind it was not reflected in
+the company's work, as shown in the office records which the latter had
+spread out before him.
+
+"That's a big six months' work," said Thorne when they had finished.
+"Good Lord, man, when we first came up here a jack-rabbit couldn't hop
+through this place where you're sitting, and now see what we've got!
+Fifty cabins, four mess-halls, two of the biggest warehouses north of
+Winnipeg, a post-office, a hospital, three blacksmith shops and--a
+ship-yard!"
+
+"A ship-yard!" exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise.
+
+"Sure, with a fifty-ton ship half built and frozen stiff in the ice. You
+can finish her in the spring and you'll find her mighty useful for
+bringing supplies from the head of the Wekusko. We're using horses on
+the ice now. Had a deuced hard time in getting fifty of 'em up from Le
+Pas. And besides all this, we've got six miles of road-bed built to the
+south and three to the north. We've got a sub-camp at each working-end,
+but most of the men still prefer to come in at night." He dragged
+himself slowly and painfully to his feet as a knock sounded at the door.
+"That's MacDonald, our camp superintendent," he explained. "Told him to
+be here at eight. He's a corker for taking hold of things."
+
+A little, wiry, red-headed man hopped in as Thorne threw open the door.
+The moment his eyes fell on Howland he sprang forward with outstretched
+hand, smiling and bobbing his head.
+
+"Howland, of course!" he cried. "Glad to see you! Five minutes
+late--awful sorry--but they're having the devil's own time over at a
+coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me."
+
+From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a
+cricket.
+
+"How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus tell me
+if Jackpine brought me the cigarettes from Le Pas. If he forgot them, as
+the mail did, I'll have his life as sure--"
+
+"He brought them," said Thorne. "But how about this coyote, Mac? I
+thought it was ready to fire."
+
+"So it is--now. The south ridge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.
+We'll blow up the big north mountains sometime to-night. It'll make a
+glorious fireworks--one hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder and
+four fifty-pound cases of dynamite--and if you can't walk that far,
+Thorne, we'll take you up on a sledge. Mustn't allow you to miss it!"
+
+"Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the mail. That's why
+I want you with Howland and me this morning. It will be up to you to get
+him acquainted with every detail in camp."
+
+"Bully!" exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing his hands with
+brisk enthusiasm. "Greggy and Thorne have done some remarkable things,
+Mr. Howland. You'll open your eyes when you see 'em! Talk about building
+railroads! We've got 'em all beat a thousand ways--tearing through
+forests, swamps and those blooming ridge-mountains--and here we are
+pretty near up at the end of the earth. The new Trans-continental isn't
+in it with us! The--"
+
+"Ring off, Mac!" exclaimed Thorne; and Howland found himself laughing
+down into the red, freckled face of the superintendent. He liked this
+man immensely from the first.
+
+"He's a bunch of live wires, double-charged all the time," said Thorne
+in a low voice as MacDonald went out ahead of them. "Always like
+that--happy as a boy most of the time, loved by the men, but the very
+devil himself when he's riled. Don't know what this camp would do
+without him."
+
+This same thought occurred to Howland a dozen times during the next two
+hours. MacDonald seemed to be the life and law of the camp, and he
+wondered more and more at Thorne's demeanor. The camp chiefs and gang
+foremen whom they met seemed to stand in a certain awe of the senior
+engineer, but it was at the little red-headed Scotchman's cheery words
+that their eyes lighted with enthusiasm. This was not like the old
+Thorne, who had been the eye, the ear and the tongue of the company's
+greatest engineering works for a decade past, and whose boundless
+enthusiasm and love of work had been the largest factors in the winning
+of fame that was more than national. He began to note that there was a
+strange nervousness about Thorne when they were among the men, an uneasy
+alertness in his eyes, as though he were looking for some particular
+face among those they encountered. MacDonald's shrewd eyes observed his
+perplexity, and once he took an opportunity to whisper:
+
+"I guess it's about time for Thorne to get back into civilization.
+There's something bad in his system. Weston told me yesterday that his
+injuries are coming along finely. I don't understand it."
+
+A little later they returned with Thorne to his room.
+
+"I want Howland to see this south coyote go up," said MacDonald. "Can
+you spare him? We'll be back before noon."
+
+"Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That will give me
+time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten."
+
+Howland fancied that there was a certain tone of relief in the senior's
+voice, but he made no mention of it to the superintendent as they walked
+swiftly to the scene of the "blow-out." The coyote was ready for firing
+when they arrived. The coyote itself--a tunnel of fifty feet dug into
+the solid rock of the mountain and terminating in a chamber packed with
+explosives--was closed by masses of broken rock, rammed tight, and
+MacDonald showed his companion where the electric wire passed to the
+fuse within.
+
+"It's a confounded mystery to me why Thorne doesn't care to see this
+ridge blown up!" he exclaimed after they had finished the inspection.
+"We've been at work for three months drilling this coyote, and the
+bigger one to the north. There are four thousand square yards of rock to
+come out of there, and six thousand out of the other. You don't see
+shots like those three times in a lifetime, and there'll not be another
+for us between here and the bay. What's the matter with Thorne?"
+
+Without waiting for a reply MacDonald walked swiftly in the direction of
+a ridge to the right. Already guards had been thrown out on all sides of
+the mountain and their thrilling warnings of "Fire--Fire--Fire," shouted
+through megaphones of birch-bark, echoed with ominous meaning through
+the still wilderness, where for the time all work had ceased. On the top
+of the ridge half a hundred of the workmen had already assembled, and as
+Howland and the superintendent came among them they fell back from
+around a big, flat boulder on which was stationed the electric battery.
+MacDonald's face was flushed and his eyes snapped like dragonflies as he
+pointed to a tiny button.
+
+"God, but I can't understand why Thorne doesn't care to see this," he
+said again. "Think of it, man--seven thousand five hundred pounds of
+powder and two hundred of dynamite! A touch of this button, a flash
+along the wire, and the fuse is struck. Then, four or five minutes, and
+up goes a mountain that has stood here since the world began. Isn't it
+glorious?" He straightened himself and took off his hat. "Mr. Howland,
+will you press the button?"
+
+With a strange thrill Howland bent over the battery, his eyes turned to
+the mass of rock looming sullen and black half a mile away, as if
+bidding defiance in the face of impending fate. Tremblingly his finger
+pressed on the little white knob, and a silence like that of death fell
+on those who watched. One minute--two--three--five passed, while in the
+bowels of the mountain the fuse was sizzling to its end. Then there came
+a puff, something like a cloud of dust rising skyward, but without
+sound; and before its upward belching had ceased a tongue of flame
+spurted out of its crest--and after that, perhaps two seconds later,
+came the explosion. There was a rumbling and a jarring, as if the earth
+were convulsed under foot; volumes of dense black smoke shot upward,
+shutting the mountain in an impenetrable pall of gloom; and in an
+instant these rolling, twisting volumes of black became lurid, and an
+explosion like that of a thousand great guns rent the air. As fast as
+the eye could follow, sheets of flame shot out of the sea of smoke,
+climbing higher and higher, in lightning flashes, until the lurid
+tongues licked the air a quarter of a mile above the startled
+wilderness. Explosion followed explosion, some of them coming in hollow,
+reverberating booms, others sounding as if in mid-air. The heavens were
+filled with hurtling rocks; solid masses of granite ten feet square were
+thrown a hundred feet away; rocks weighing a ton were hurled still
+farther, as if they were no more than stones flung by the hand of a
+giant; chunks that would have crashed from the roof to the basement of a
+sky-scraper dropped a third and nearly a half a mile away. For three
+minutes the frightful convulsions continued. Then the lurid lights died
+out of the pall of smoke, and the pall itself began to settle. Howland
+felt a grip on his arm. Dumbly he turned and looked into the white,
+staring face of the superintendent. His ears tingled, every fiber in him
+seemed unstrung. MacDonald's voice came to him strange and weird.
+
+"What do you think of that, Howland?" The two men gripped hands, and
+when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn
+and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred
+the path of the new road to the bay.
+
+Howland talked but little on their way back to camp. The scene that he
+had just witnessed affected him strangely; it stirred once more within
+him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither
+found voice in words. He was glad when the dinner was over at Thorne's,
+and with the going of the mail sledge and the senior engineer there came
+over him a still deeper sense of joy. Now _he_ was in charge, it was
+_his_ road from that hour on. He crushed MacDonald's hand in a grip that
+meant more than words when they parted. In his own cabin he threw off
+his coat and hat, lighted his pipe, and tried to realize just what this
+all meant for him. He was in charge--in charge of the greatest railroad
+building job on earth--_he_, Jack Howland, who less than twenty years
+ago was a barefooted, half-starved urchin peddling papers in the streets
+where he was now famous! And now what was this black thing that had come
+up to threaten his chances just as he had about won his great fight? He
+clenched his hands as he thought again of what had already happened--the
+cowardly attempt on his life, the warnings, and his blood boiled to
+fever heat. That night--after he had seen Meleese--he would know what to
+do. But he would not be driven away, as Gregson and Thorne had been
+driven. He was determined on that.
+
+The gloom of night falls early in the great northern mid-winter, and it
+was already growing dusk when there came the sound of a voice outside,
+followed a moment later by a loud knock at the door. At Howland's
+invitation the door opened and the head and shoulders of a man appeared.
+
+"Something has gone wrong out at the north coyote, sir, and Mr.
+MacDonald wants you just as fast as you can get out there," he said. "He
+sent me down for you with a sledge."
+
+"MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing," said Howland,
+putting on his hat and coat. "What's the matter?"
+
+"Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible
+sweat to see you."
+
+Half an hour later the sledge drew up close to the place where Howland
+had seen a score of men packing bags of powder and dynamite earlier in
+the day. Half a dozen lanterns were burning among the rocks, but there
+was no sign of movement or life. The engineer's companion gave a sudden
+sharp crack of his long whip and in response to it there came a muffled
+halloo from out of the gloom.
+
+"That's MacDonald, sir. You'll find him right up there near that second
+light, where the coyote opens up. He's grilling the life out of half a
+dozen men in the chamber, where he found the dynamite on top of the
+powder instead of under it."
+
+"All right!" called back Howland, starting up among the rocks. Hardly
+had he taken a dozen steps when a dark object shot out behind him and,
+fell with crushing force on his head. With, a groaning cry he fell
+forward on his face. For a few moments he was conscious of voices about
+him; he knew that he was being lifted in the arms of men, and that after
+a time they were carrying him so that his feet dragged on the ground.
+After that he seemed to be sinking down--down--down--until he lost all
+sense of existence in a chaos of inky blackness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+THE HOUR OF DEATH
+
+A red, unwinking eye staring at him fixedly from out of impenetrable
+gloom--an ogreish, gleaming thing that brought life back into him with a
+thrill of horror--was Howland's first vision of returning consciousness.
+It was dead in front of him, on a level with his face--a ball of yellow
+fire that seemed to burn into his very soul. He tried to cry out, but no
+sound fell from his lips; he strove to move, to fight himself away, but
+there was no power of movement in his limbs. The eye grew larger. He saw
+that it was so bright it cast a halo, and the halo widened before his
+own staring eyes until the dense gloom about it seemed to be melting
+away. Then he knew. It was a lantern in front of him, not more than ten
+feet away. Consciousness flooded him, and he made another effort to cry
+out, to free his arms from an invisible clutch that held him powerless.
+At first he thought this was the clutch of human hands; then as the
+lantern-light revealed more clearly the things about him and the
+outlines of his own figure, he saw that it was a rope, and he knew that
+he was unable to cry out because of something tight and suffocating
+about his mouth.
+
+The truth came to him swiftly. He had come up to the coyote on a sledge.
+Some one had struck him. He remembered that men had half-dragged him
+over the rocks, and these men had bound and gagged him, and left him
+here, with the lantern staring him in the face. But where was he? He
+shifted his eyes, straining to penetrate the gloom. Ahead of him, just
+beyond the light, there was a black wall; he could not move his head,
+but he saw where that same wall closed in on the left. He turned his
+gaze upward, and it ended with that same imprisoning barrier of rock.
+Then he looked down, and the cry of horror that rose in his throat died
+in a muffled groan. The light fell dimly on a sack--two of
+them--three--a tightly packed wall of them.
+
+He knew now what had happened. He was imprisoned in the coyote, and the
+sacks about him were filled with powder. He was sitting on something
+hard--a box--fifty pounds of dynamite! The cold sweat stood out in beads
+on his face, glistening in the lantern-glow. From between his feet a
+thin, white, ghostly line ran out until it lost itself in the blackness
+under the lantern. It was the fuse, leading to the box of dynamite on
+which he was sitting!
+
+Madly he struggled at the thongs that bound him until he sank exhausted
+against the row of powder sacks at his back. Like words of fire
+the last warning of Meleese burned in his brain--"You must go,
+to-morrow--to-morrow--or they will kill you!" And this was the way in
+which he was to die! There flamed before his eyes the terrible spectacle
+which he had witnessed a few hours before--the holocaust of fire and
+smoke and thunder that had disrupted a mountain, a chaos of writhing,
+twisting fury, and in that moment his heart seemed to cease its beating.
+He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Was it possible that there
+lived men so fiendish as to condemn him to this sort of death? Why had
+not his enemies killed him out among the rocks? That would have been
+easier--quicker--less troublesome. Why did they wish to torture him?
+What terrible thing had he done? Was he mad--mad--and this all a
+terrible nightmare, a raving find unreal contortion of things in his
+brain? In this hour of death question after question raced through his
+head, and he answered no one of them. He sat still for a time, scarcely
+breathing. There was no sound, save the beating of his own heart. Then
+there came another, almost unheard at first, faint, thrilling,
+maddening.
+
+Tick--tick--tick!
+
+It was the beating of his watch. A spasm of horror seized him.
+
+What time was it? The coyote was to be fired at nine o'clock. It was
+four when he left his cabin. How long had he been unconscious? Was it
+time now--now? Was MacDonald's finger already reaching out to that
+little white button which would send him into eternity?
+
+He struggled again, gnashing furiously at the thing which covered his
+mouth, tearing the flesh of his wrists as he twisted at the ropes which
+bound him, choking himself with his efforts to loosen the thong about
+his neck. Exhausted again, he sank back, panting, half dead. As he lay
+with closed eyes a little of his reason asserted itself. After all, was
+he such a coward as to go mad?
+
+Tick--tick--tick!
+
+His watch was beating at a furious rate. Was something wrong with it?
+Was it going too fast? He tried to count the seconds, but they raced
+away from him. When he looked again his gaze fell on the little yellow
+tongue of flame in the lantern globe. It was not the steady, unwinking
+eye of a few minutes before. There was a sputtering weakness about it
+now, and as he watched the light grew fainter and fainter. The flame was
+going out. A few minutes more and he would be in darkness. At first the
+significance of it did not come to him; then he straightened himself
+with a jerk that tightened the thong about his neck until it choked him.
+Hours must have passed since the lantern had been placed on that rock,
+else the oil would not be burned out of it now!
+
+For the first time Howland realized that it was becoming more and more
+difficult for him to get breath. The thing about his neck was
+tightening, slowly, inexorably, like a hot band of steel, and suddenly,
+because of this tightening, he found that he had recovered his voice.
+
+"This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--"
+
+Whatever had been about his mouth had slipped down and his words sounded
+hollow and choking in the rock-bound chamber. He tried to raise his
+voice in a shout, though he knew how futile his loudest shrieks would
+be. The effort choked him more. His suffering was becoming excruciating.
+Sharp pains darted like red-hot needles through his limbs, his back
+tortured him, and his head ached as though a knife had cleft the base of
+his skull. The strength of his limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt
+any sensation in his cramped feet. He measured the paralysis creeping up
+his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it--and then a
+groan of horror rose to his lips.
+
+The light had gone out!
+
+As if that dying of the little yellow flame were the signal for his
+death, there came to his ears a sharp hissing sound, a spark leaped up
+into the blackness before his eyes, and a slow, creeping glow came
+toward him over the rock at his feet.
+
+The hour--the minute--the second had come, and MacDonald had pressed the
+little white button that was to send him into eternity! He did not cry
+out now. He knew that the end was very near, and in its nearness he
+found new strength. Once he had seen a man walk to his death on the
+scaffold, and as the condemned had spoken his last farewell, with the
+noose about his neck, he had marveled at the clearness of his voice, at
+the fearlessness of this creature in his last moment on earth.
+
+Now he understood. Inch by inch the fuse burned toward him--a fifth of
+the distance, a quarter--now a third. At last it reached a half--was
+almost under his feet. Two minutes more of life. He put his whole
+strength once again in an attempt to free his hands. This time his
+attempt was cool, steady, masterful---with death one hundred seconds
+away. His heart gave a sudden bursting leap into his throat when he felt
+something give. Another effort--and in the powder-choked vault there
+rang out a thrilling cry of triumph. His hands were free! He reached
+forward to the fuse, and this time a moaning, wordless sob fell from
+him, faint, terrifying, with all the horror that might fill a human
+soul in its inarticulate note. He could not reach the fuse because of
+the thong about his neck!
+
+He felt for his knife. He had left it in his room. Sixty seconds
+more--forty--thirty! He could see the fiery end of the fuse almost at
+his feet. Suddenly his groping fingers came in contact with the cold
+steel of his pocket revolver and with a last hope he snatched it forth,
+stretching down his pistol arm until the muzzle of the weapon was within
+a dozen inches of the deadly spark. At his first shot the spark leaped,
+but did not go out. After the second there was no longer the fiery,
+creeping thing on the floor, and, crushing his head back against the
+sacks, Howland sat for many minutes as if death had in reality come to
+him in the moment of his deliverance. After a time, with tedious
+slowness, he worked a hand into his trousers' pocket, where he carried a
+pen-knife. It took him a long time to saw through the rawhide thong
+about his neck. After that he cut the rope that bound his ankles.
+
+He made an effort to rise, but no sooner had he gained his feet than his
+paralyzed limbs gave way under him and he dropped in a heap on the
+floor. Very slowly the blood began finding its way through his choked
+veins again, and with the change there came over him a feeling of
+infinite restfulness. He stretched himself out, with his face turned to
+the black wall above, realizing only that he was saved, that he had
+outwitted his mysterious enemies again, and that he was comfortable. He
+made no effort to think--to scheme out his further deliverance. He was
+with the powder and the dynamite, and the powder and the dynamite could
+not be exploded until human hands came to attach a new fuse. MacDonald
+would attend to that very soon, so he went off into a doze that was
+almost sleep. In his half-consciousness there came to him but one
+sound--that dreadful ticking of his watch. He seemed to have listened
+to it for hours when there arose another sound--the ticking of
+another watch.
+
+He sat up, startled, wondering, and then he laughed happily as he heard
+the sound more distinctly. It was the beating of picks on the rock
+outside. Already MacDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the
+coyote. In half an hour he would be out in the big, breathing
+world again.
+
+The thought brought him to his feet. The numbness was gone from his
+limbs and he could walk about. His first move was to strike a match and
+look at his watch.
+
+"Half-past ten!"
+
+He spoke the words aloud, thinking of Meleese. In an hour and a half he
+was to meet her on the trail. Would he be released in time to keep the
+tryst? How should he explain his imprisonment in the coyote so that he
+could leave MacDonald without further loss of time? As the sound of the
+picks came nearer his brain began working faster. If he could only evade
+explanations until morning--and then reveal the whole dastardly
+business to MacDonald! There would be time then for those explanations,
+for the running down of his murderous assailants, and in the while he
+would be able to keep his appointment with Meleese.
+
+He was not long in finding a way in which this scheme could be worked,
+and gathering up the severed ropes and rawhide he concealed them between
+two of the powder sacks so that those who entered the coyote would
+discover no signs of his terrible imprisonment. Close to the mouth of
+the tunnel there was a black rent in the wall of rock, made by a
+bursting charge of dynamite, in which he could conceal himself. When the
+men were busy examining the broken fuse he would step out and join them.
+It would look as though he had crawled through the tunnel after them.
+
+Half an hour later a mass of rock rolled down close to his feet, and a
+few moments after he saw a shadowy human form crawling through the hole
+it had left. A second followed, and then a third;--and the first voice
+he heard was that of MacDonald.
+
+"Give us the lantern, Bucky," he called back, and a gleam of light shot
+into the black chamber. The men walked cautiously toward the fuse, and
+Howland saw the little superintendent fall on his knees.
+
+"What in hell!" he heard him exclaim, and then there was a silence. As
+quietly as a cat Howland worked himself to the entrance and made a
+clatter among the rocks. It was he who responded to the voice.
+
+"What's up, MacDonald?"
+
+He coolly joined the little group. MacDonald looked up, and when he saw
+the new chief bending over him his eyes stared in unbounded wonder.
+
+"Howland!" he gasped.
+
+It was all he said, but in that one word and in the strange excitement
+in the superintendent's face Howland read that which made him turn
+quickly to the men, giving them his first command as general-in-chief of
+the road that was going to the bay.
+
+"Get out of the coyote, boys," he said. "We won't do anything more until
+morning."
+
+To MacDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low
+voice:
+
+"Guard the entrance to this tunnel with half a dozen of your best men
+to-night, MacDonald. I know things which will lead me to investigate
+this to-morrow. I'm going to leave you as soon as I get outside. Spread
+the report that it was simply a bad fuse. Understand?"
+
+He crawled out ahead of the superintendent, and before MacDonald had
+emerged from the coyote he had already lost himself in the starlit gloom
+of the night and was hastening to his tryst with the beautiful girl,
+who, he believed, would reveal to him at least a part of one of the
+strangest and most diabolical plots that had ever originated in the
+brain of man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+THE TRYST
+
+It still lacked nearly an hour of the appointed time when Howland came
+to the secluded spot in the trail where he was to meet Meleese.
+Concealed in the deep shadows of the bushes he seated himself on the end
+of a fallen spruce and loaded his pipe, taking care to light it with the
+flare of the match hidden in the hollow of his hands. For the first time
+since his terrible experience in the coyote he found himself free to
+think, and more than ever he began to see the necessity of coolness and
+of judgment in what he was about to do. Gradually, too, he fought
+himself back into his old faith in Meleese. His blood was tingling at
+fever heat in his desire for vengeance, for the punishment of the human
+fiends who had attempted to blow him to atoms, and yet at the same time
+there was no bitterness in him toward the girl. He was sure that she
+was an unwilling factor in the plot, and that she was doing all in her
+power to save him. At the same time he began to realize that he should
+no longer be influenced by her pleading. He had promised--in return for
+her confidence this night--to leave unpunished those whom she wished to
+shield. He would take back that promise. Before she revealed anything to
+him he would warn her that he was determined to discover those who had
+twice sought to kill him.
+
+It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch again. Was it
+possible that Meleese would not come? He could not bring himself to
+believe that she knew of his imprisonment in the coyote--of this second
+attempt on his life. And yet--if she did--
+
+He rose from the log and began pacing quickly back and forth in the
+gloom, his thoughts racing through his brain with increasing
+apprehension. Those who had imprisoned him had learned of his escape an
+hour ago. Many things might have happened in that time. Perhaps they
+were fleeing from the camp. Frightened by their failure, and fearing the
+punishment which would be theirs if discovered, it was not improbable
+that even now they were many miles from the Wekusko, hurrying deeper
+into the unknown wilderness to the north. And Meleese would be
+with them!
+
+Suddenly he heard a step, a light, running step, and with a recognizing
+cry he sprang out into the starlight to meet the slim, panting,
+white-faced figure that ran to him from between the thick walls of
+forest trees.
+
+"Meleese?" he exclaimed softly.
+
+He held out his arms and the girl ran straight into them, thrusting her
+hands against his breast, throwing back her head so that she looked up
+into his face with great, staring, horror-filled eyes.
+
+"Now--now--" she sobbed, "_now_ will you go?"
+
+Her hands left his breast and crept to his shoulders; slowly they
+slipped over them, and as Howland pressed her closer, his lips silent,
+she gave an agonized cry and dropped her head against his shoulder, her
+whole body torn in a convulsion of grief and terror that startled him.
+
+"You will go?" she sobbed again and again. "You will go--you will go--"
+
+He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to
+hers.
+
+"No, I am not going, dear," he replied in a low, firm voice. "Not after
+what happened to-night."
+
+She drew away from him as quickly as if he had struck her, freeing
+herself even from the touch of his hands.
+
+"I heard--what happened--an hour ago," she said, her voice choking her.
+"I overheard--them--talking." She struggled hard to control herself.
+"You must leave the camp--to-night."
+
+In the gloom she saw Howland's teeth gleaming. There was no fear in his
+smile; he laughed gently down into her eyes as he took her face between
+his hands again.
+
+"I want to take back the promise that I gave you last night, Meleese. I
+want to give you a chance to warn any whom you may wish to warn. I shall
+not return into the South. From this hour begins the hunt for the
+cowardly devils who have tried to murder me. Before dawn every man on
+the Wekusko will be in the search, and if we find them there shall be no
+mercy. Will you help me, or--"
+
+She struck his hands from her face, springing back before he had
+finished. He saw a sudden change of expression; her lips grew tense and
+firm; from the death whiteness of her face there faded slowly away the
+look of soft pleading, the quivering lines of fear. There was a
+strangeness in her voice when she spoke--something of the hard
+determination which Howland had put in his own, and yet the tone of it
+lacked his gentleness and love.
+
+"Will you please tell me the time?" The question was almost startling.
+Howland held the dial of his watch to the light of the stars.
+
+"It is a quarter past midnight."
+
+The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips.
+
+"Are you certain that your watch is not fast?" she asked.
+
+In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her.
+
+"Because it will mean a great deal to you and to me if it is not a
+quarter past midnight," continued Meleese, a growing glow in her eyes.
+Suddenly she approached him and put both of her warm hands to his face,
+holding down his arms with her own. "Listen," she whispered. "Is there
+nothing--nothing that will make you change your purpose, that will take
+you back into the South--to-night?"
+
+The nearness of the sweet face, the gentle touch of the girl's hands,
+the soft breath of her lips, sent a maddening impulse through Howland
+to surrender everything to her. For an instant he wavered.
+
+"There might be one--just _one_ thing that would take me away to-night,"
+he replied, his voice trembling with the great love that thrilled him.
+"For you, Meleese, I would give up everything--ambition, fortune, the
+building of this road. If I go to-night will you go with me? Will you
+promise to be my wife when we reach Le Pas?"
+
+A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to
+his own.
+
+"That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am--what
+I have done--"
+
+He stopped her.
+
+"Have you done wrong--a great wrong?"
+
+For a moment her eyes faltered; then, hesitatingly, there fell from her
+lips, "I--don't--know. I believe I have. But it's not that--it's
+not _that!_"
+
+"Do you mean that--that I have no right to tell you I love you?" he
+asked. "Do you mean that it is wrong for you to listen to me?
+I--I--took it for granted that you were a--girl--that--"
+
+"No, no, it is not that," she cried quickly, catching his meaning. "It
+is not wrong for you to love me." Suddenly she asked again, "Will you
+please tell me what time it is--now?"
+
+He looked again.
+
+"Twenty-five minutes after midnight."
+
+"Let us go farther up the trail," she whispered. "I am afraid here."
+
+She led the way, passing swiftly beyond the path that branched out to
+his cabin. Two hundred yards beyond this a tree had fallen on the edge
+of the trail, and seating herself on it Meleese motioned for him to sit
+down beside her. Howland's back was to the thick bushes behind them. He
+looked at the girl, but she had turned away her face. Suddenly she
+sprang from the log and stood in front of him.
+
+"Now!" she cried. "Now!" and at that signal Howland's arms were seized
+from behind, and in another instant he was struggling feebly in the
+grip of powerful arms which had fastened themselves about him like wire
+cable, and the cry that rose to his lips was throttled by a hand over
+his mouth. For an instant he caught a glimpse of the girl's white face
+as she stood in the trail; then strong hands pulled him back, while
+others bound his wrists and still others held his legs. Everything had
+passed in a few seconds. Helplessly bound and gagged he lay on his back
+in the snow, listening to the low voices that came faintly to him from
+beyond the bushes. He could understand nothing that they said--and yet
+he was sure that he recognized among them the voice of Meleese.
+
+The voices became fainter; he heard retreating footsteps, and at last
+they died away entirely. Through a rift in the trees straight above him
+the white, cold stars of the night gleamed down on him, and Howland
+stared up at them fixedly until they seemed to be hopping and dancing
+about in the skies. He wanted to swear--yell--fight. In these moments
+that he lay on his back in the freezing snow a million demons were born
+in his blood. The girl had betrayed him again! This time he could find
+no excuse--no pardon for her. She had accepted his love--had allowed him
+to kiss her, to hold her in his arms--while beneath that hypocrisy she
+had plotted his downfall a second time. Deliberately she had given the
+signal for attack, and now--
+
+He heard again the quick, running step that he had recognized on the
+trail. The bushes behind him parted, and in the white starlight Meleese
+fell on her knees at his side, her glorious face bending over him in a
+grief that he had never seen in it before, her eyes shining on him with
+a great love. Without speaking she lifted his head in the hollow of her
+arm and crushed her own down against it, kissing him, and softly
+sobbing his name.
+
+"Good-by," he heard her breathe. "Good-by--good-by--"
+
+He struggled to cry out as she lowered his head back on the snow, to
+free his hands, to hold her with him--but he saw her face only once
+more, bending over him; felt the warm pressure of her lips to his
+forehead, and then again he could hear her footsteps hurrying away
+through the forest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+A RACE INTO THE NORTH
+
+That Meleese loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had
+kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howland's brain for many
+minutes after she had left him bound and gagged on the snow. That she
+had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as
+significant. He still felt the sweet, warm touch of her lips, the
+pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair. It was not
+until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a
+full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened. He heard
+first of all the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the
+pattering of dogs' feet, and after that the voices of men. The sounds
+stopped on the trail a dozen feet away from him.
+
+With a strange thrill he recognized Croisset's voice.
+
+"You must be sure that you make no mistake," he heard the half-breed
+say. "Go to the waterfall at the head of the lake and heave down a big
+rock where the ice is open and the water boiling. Track up the snow with
+a pair of M'seur Howland's high-heeled boots and leave his hat tangled
+in the bushes. Then tell the superintendent that he stepped on the stone
+and that it rolled down and toppled him into the chasm. They could never
+find his body--and they will send down for a new engineer in place of
+the lost M'seur."
+
+Stupefied with horror, Howland strained his ears to catch the rest of
+the cold-blooded scheme which he was overhearing, but the voices grew
+lower and he understood no more that was said until Croisset, coming
+nearer, called out:
+
+"Help me with the M'seur before you go, Jackpine. He is a dead weight
+with all those rawhides about him."
+
+As coolly as though he were not more than a chunk of stovewood,
+Croisset and the Indian came through the bushes, seized him by the head
+and feet, carried him out into the trail and laid him lengthwise on
+the sledge.
+
+"I hope you have not caught cold lying in the snow, M'seur," said
+Croisset, bolstering up the engineer's head and shoulders and covering
+him with heavy furs. "We should have been back sooner, but it was
+impossible. Hoo-la, Woonga!" he called softly to his lead-dog. "Get up
+there, you wolf-hound!"
+
+As the sledge started, with Croisset running close to the leader,
+Howland heard the low snapping of a whip behind him and another voice
+urging on other dogs. With an effort that almost dislocated his neck he
+twisted himself so he could look back of him. A hundred yards away he
+discerned a second team following in his trail; he saw a shadowy figure
+running at the head of the dogs, but what there was on the sledge, or
+what it meant, he could not see or surmise. Mile after mile the two
+sledges continued without a stop. Croisset did not turn his head; no
+word fell from his lips, except an occasional signal to the dogs. The
+trail had turned now straight into the North, and soon Howland could
+make out no sign of it, but knew only that they were twisting through
+the most open places in the forests, and that the play of the Polar
+lights was never over his left shoulder or his right, but always in
+his face.
+
+They had traveled for several hours when Croisset gave a sudden shrill
+shout to the rearmost sledge and halted his own. The dogs fell in a
+panting group on the snow, and while they were resting the half-breed
+relieved his prisoner of the soft buckskin that had been used as a gag.
+
+"It will be perfectly safe for you to talk now, M'seur, and to shout as
+loudly as you please," he said. "After I have looked into your pockets I
+will free your hands so that you can smoke. Are you comfortable?"
+
+"Comfortable--be damned!" were the first words that fell from Howland's
+lips, and his blood boiled at the sociable way in which Croisset
+grinned down into his face. "So you're in it, too, eh?--and that
+lying girl--"
+
+The smile left Croisset's face.
+
+"Do you mean Meleese, M'seur Howland?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Croisset leaned down with his black eyes gleaming like coals.
+
+"Do you know what I would do if I was her, M'seur?" he said in a low
+voice, and yet one filled with a threat which stilled the words of
+passion which the engineer was on the point of uttering. "Do you know
+what I would do? I would kill you--kill you inch by inch--torture you.
+That is what I would do."
+
+"For God's sake, Croisset, tell me why--why--"
+
+Croisset had found Howland's pistol and freed his hands, and the
+engineer stretched them out entreatingly.
+
+"I would give my life for that girl, Croisset. I told her so back there,
+and she came to me when I was in the snow and--" He caught himself,
+adding to what he had left incomplete. "There is a mistake, Croisset. I
+am not the man they want to kill!"
+
+Croisset was smiling at him again.
+
+"Smoke--and think, M'seur. It is impossible for me to tell you why you
+should be dead--but you ought to know, unless your memory is shorter
+than a child's."
+
+He went to the dogs, stirring them up with the cracking of his whip, and
+when Howland turned to look back he saw a bright flare of light where
+the other sledge had stopped. A man's voice came from the farther gloom,
+calling to Croisset in French.
+
+"He tells me I am to take you on alone," said Croisset, after he had
+replied to the words spoken in a patois which Howland could not
+understand. "They will join us again very soon."
+
+"They!" exclaimed Howland. "How many will it take to kill me, my dear
+Croisset?" The half-breed smiled down into his face again.
+
+"You may thank the Blessed Virgin that they are with us," he replied
+softly. "If you have any hope outside of Heaven, M'seur, it is on that
+sledge behind."
+
+As he went again to the dogs, straightening the leader in his traces,
+Howland stared back at the firelit space in the forest gloom. He could
+see a man adding fuel to the blaze, and beyond him, shrouded in the deep
+shadows of the trees, an indistinct tangle of dogs and sledge. As he
+strained his eyes to discover more there was a movement beyond the
+figure over the fire and the young engineer's heart leaped with a sudden
+thrill. Croisset's voice sounded in a shrill shout behind him, and at
+that warning cry in French the second figure sprang back into the gloom.
+But Howland had recognized it, and the chilled blood in his veins leaped
+into warm life again at the knowledge that it was Meleese who was
+trailing behind them on the second sledge! "When you yell like that
+give me a little warning if you please, Jean," he said, speaking as
+coolly as though he had not recognized the figure that had come for an
+instant into the firelight. "It is enough to startle the life out
+of one!"
+
+"It is our way of saying good-by, M'seur," replied Croisset with a
+fierce snap of his whip. "Hoo-la, get along there!" he cried to the
+dogs, and in half a dozen breaths the fire was lost to view.
+
+Dawn comes at about eight o'clock in the northern mid-winter; beyond the
+fiftieth degree the first ruddy haze of the sun begins to warm the
+southeastern skies at nine, and its glow had already risen above the
+forests before Croisset stopped his team again. For two hours he had not
+spoken a word to his prisoner and after several unavailing efforts to
+break the other's taciturnity Howland lapsed into a silence of his own.
+When he had brought his tired dogs to a halt, Croisset spoke for the
+first time.
+
+"We are going to camp here for a few hours," he explained. "If you will
+pledge me your word of honor that you will make no attempt to escape I
+will give you the use of your legs until after breakfast, M'seur. What
+do you say?"
+
+"Have you a Bible, Croisset?"
+
+"No, M'seur, but I have the cross of our Virgin, given to me by the
+missioner at York Factory."
+
+"Then I will swear by it--I will swear by all the crosses and all the
+Bibles in the world that I will make no effort to escape. I am
+paralyzed, Croisset! I couldn't run for a week!"
+
+Croisset was searching in his pockets.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" he cried excitedly, "I have lost it! Ah, come to think,
+M'seur, I gave the cross to my Mariane before I went into the South, But
+I will take your word."
+
+"And who is Mariane, Jean? Will she also be in at the 'kill?'"
+
+"Mariane is my wife, M'seur. Ah, _ma belle_ Mariane--_ma cheri_--the
+daughter of an Indian princess and the granddaughter of a _chef de
+bataillon_, M'seur! Could there be better than that? And she is
+be-e-e-utiful, M'seur, with hair like the top side of a raven's wing
+with the sun shining on it, and--"
+
+"You love her a great deal, Jean."
+
+"Next to the Virgin--and--it may be a little better."
+
+Croisset had severed the rope about the engineer's legs, and as he
+raised his glowing eyes Howland reached out and put both hands on his
+shoulders.
+
+"And in just that way I love Meleese," he said softly. "Jean, won't you
+be my friend? I don't want to escape. I'm not a coward. Won't you think
+of what your Mariane might do, and be a friend to me? You would die for
+Mariane if it were necessary. And I would die for the girl back on
+that sledge."
+
+He had staggered to his feet, and pointed into the forests through which
+they had come.
+
+"I saw her in the firelight, Jean. Why is she following us? Why do they
+want to kill me? If you would only give me a chance to prove that it is
+all a mistake--that I--"
+
+Croisset reached out and took his hand.
+
+"M'seur, I would like to help you," he interrupted. "I liked you that
+night we came in together from the fight on the trail. I have liked you
+since. And yet, if I was in _their_ place, I would kill you even though
+I like you. It is a great duty to kill you. They did not do wrong when
+they tied you in the coyote. They did not do wrong when they tried to
+kill you on the trail. But I have taken a solemn oath to tell you
+nothing; nothing beyond this--that so long as you are with me, and that
+sledge is behind us, your life is not in danger. I will tell you nothing
+more. Are you hungry, M'seur?"
+
+"Starved!" said Howland.
+
+He stumbled a few steps out into the snow, the numbness in his limbs
+forcing him to catch at trees and saplings to save himself from falling.
+He was astonished at Croisset's words and more confused than ever at the
+half-breed's assurance that his life was no longer in immediate peril.
+To him this meant that Meleese had not only warned him but was now
+playing an active part in preserving his life, and this conclusion added
+to his perplexity. Who was this girl who a few hours before had
+deliberately lured him among his enemies and who was now fighting to
+save him? The question held a deeper significance for him than when he
+had asked himself this same thing at Prince Albert, and when Croisset
+called for him to return to the camp-fire and breakfast he touched once
+more the forbidden subject.
+
+"Jean, I don't want to hurt your feelings," he said, seating himself on
+the sledge, "but I've got to get a few things out of my system. I
+believe this Meleese of yours is a bad woman."
+
+Like a flash Croisset struck at the bait which Howland threw out to him.
+He leaned a little forward, a hand quivering on his knife, his eyes
+flashing fire. Involuntarily the engineer recoiled from that animal-like
+crouch, from the black rage which was growing each instant in the
+half-breed's face. Yet Croisset spoke softly and without excitement,
+even while his shoulders and arms were twitching like a forest cat about
+to spring.
+
+"M'seur, no one in the world must say that about my Mariane, and next to
+her they must not say it about Meleese. Up there--" and he pointed still
+farther into the north--"I know of a hundred men between the Athabasca
+and the bay who would kill you for what you have said. And it is not for
+Jean Croisset to listen to it here. I will kill you unless you take
+it back!"
+
+"God!" breathed Howland. He looked straight into Croisset's face. "I'm
+glad--it's so--Jean," he added slowly. "Don't you understand, man? I
+love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her, too, Jean. I
+said that to find out--what you would do--"
+
+Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.
+
+"If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one."
+
+"It wasn't a joke," cried Howland. "It was a serious effort to make you
+tell me something about Meleese. Listen, Jean--she told me back there
+that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and
+gagged in the snow she came to me and--and kissed me. I don't
+understand--"
+
+Croisset interrupted him.
+
+"Did she do that, M'seur?"
+
+"I swear it."
+
+"Then you are fortunate," smiled Jean softly, "for I will stake my hope
+in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man,
+M'seur. But it will never happen again."
+
+"I believe that it will--unless you kill me."
+
+"And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to
+happen again. There are others who would kill you--knowing that it has
+happened but once. But you must stop this talk, M'seur. If you persist I
+shall put the rawhide over your mouth again."
+
+"And if I object--fight?"
+
+"You have given me your word of honor. Up here in the big snows the
+keeping of that word is our first law. If you break it I will kill you."
+
+"Good Lord, but you're a cheerful companion," exclaimed Howland,
+laughing in spite of himself. "Do you know, Croisset, this whole
+situation has a good deal of humor as well as tragedy about it. I must
+be a most important cuss, whoever I am. Ask me who I am, Croisset?"
+
+"And who are you, M'seur?"
+
+"I don't know, Jean. Fact, I don't. I used to think that I was a most
+ambitious young cub in a big engineering establishment down in Chicago.
+But I guess I was dreaming. Funny dream, wasn't it? Thought I came up
+here to build a road somewhere through these infernal---no, I mean these
+beautiful snows--but my mind must have been wandering again. Ever hear
+of an insane asylum, Croisset? Am I in a big stone building with iron
+bars at the windows, and are you my keeper, just come in to amuse me for
+a time? It's kind of you, Croisset, and I hope that some day I shall get
+my mind back so that I can thank you decently. Perhaps you'll go mad
+some day, Jean, and dream about pretty girls, and railroads, and
+forests, and snows--and then I'll be your keeper. Have a cigar? I've got
+just two left."
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" gasped Jean. "Yes, I will smoke, M'seur. Is that moose
+steak good?"
+
+"Fine. I haven't eaten a mouthful since years ago, when I dreamed that I
+sat on a case of dynamite just about to blow up. Did you ever sit on a
+case of dynamite just about to blow up, Jean?"
+
+"No, M'seur. It must be unpleasant."
+
+"That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how white it
+is--whiter than the snow!"
+
+Croisset looked at him a little anxiously as he ate his meat, and at the
+gathering unrest in his ayes Howland burst into a laugh.
+
+"Don't be frightened, Jean," he spoke soothingly. "I'm harmless. But I
+promise you that I'll become violent unless something reasonable occurs
+pretty soon. Hello, are you going to start so soon?"
+
+"Right away, M'seur," said Croisset, who was stirring up the dogs. "Will
+you walk and run, or ride?"
+
+"Walk and run, with your permission."
+
+"You have it, M'seur, but if you attempt to escape I must shoot you. Run
+on the right of the dogs--even with me. I will take this side."
+
+Until Croisset stopped again in the middle of the afternoon Howland
+watched the backward trail for the appearance of the second sledge, but
+there was no sign of it. Once he ventured to bring up the subject to
+Croisset, who did no more than reply with a hunch of his shoulders and a
+quick look which warned the engineer to keep his silence. After their
+second meal the journey was resumed, and by referring occasionally to
+his compass Howland observed that the trail was swinging gradually to
+the eastward. Long before dusk exhaustion compelled him to ride once
+more on the sledge. Croisset seemed tireless, and under the early glow
+of the stars and the red moon he still led on the worn pack until at
+last it stopped on the summit of a mountainous ridge, with a vast plain
+stretching into the north as far as the eyes could see through the white
+gloom. The half-breed came back to where Howland was seated on
+the sledge.
+
+"We are going but a little farther, M'seur," he said. "I must replace
+the rawhide over your mouth and the thongs about your wrists. I am
+sorry--but I will leave your legs free."
+
+"Thanks," said Howland. "But, really, it is unnecessary, Croisset. I am
+properly subdued to the fact that fate is determined to play out this
+interesting game of ball with me, and no longer knowing where I am, I
+promise you to do nothing more exciting than smoke my pipe if you will
+allow me to go along peaceably at your side."
+
+Croisset hesitated.
+
+"You will not attempt to escape--and you will hold your tongue?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.
+
+"Bear in mind, M'seur, that I will kill you if you break your word. You
+may go ahead."
+
+And he pointed down the side of the mountain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE RED DEATH
+
+Half-way down the ridge a low word from Croisset stopped the engineer.
+Jean had toggled his team with a stout length of babeesh on the mountain
+top and he was looking back when Howland turned toward him. The sharp
+edge of that part of the mountain from which they were descending stood
+out in a clear-cut line against the sky, and on this edge the six dogs
+of the team sat squat on their haunches, silent and motionless, like
+strangely carved gargoyles placed there to guard the limitless plains
+below. Howland took his pipe from his mouth as he watched the staring
+interest of Croisset. From the man he looked up again at the dogs. There
+was something in their sphynx-like attitude, in the moveless reaching of
+their muzzles out into the wonderful starlit mystery of the still night
+that filled him with an indefinable sense of awe. Then there came to his
+ears the sound that had stopped Croisset--a low, moaning whine which
+seemed to have neither beginning nor end, but which was borne in on his
+senses as though it were a part of the soft movement of the air he
+breathed--a note of infinite sadness which held him startled and without
+movement, as it held Jean Croisset. And just as he thought that the
+thing had died away, the wailing came again, rising higher and higher,
+until at last there rose over him a single long howl that chilled the
+blood to his very marrow. It was like the wolf-howl of that first night
+he had looked on the wilderness, and yet unlike it; in the first it had
+been the cry of the savage, of hunger, of the unending desolation of
+life that had thrilled him. In this it was death. He stood shivering as
+Croisset came down to him, his thin face shining white in the starlight.
+There was no other sound save the excited beating of life in their own
+bodies when Jean spoke.
+
+"M'seur, our dogs howl like that only when some one is dead or about to
+die," he whispered. "It was Woonga who gave the cry. He has lived for
+eleven years and I have never known him to fail."
+
+There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.
+
+"I must tie your hands, M'seur."
+
+"But I have given you my word, Jean--"
+
+"Your hands, M'seur. There is already death below us in the plain, or it
+is to come very soon. I must tie your hands."
+
+Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong
+of babeesh.
+
+"I believe I understand," he spoke softly, listening again for the
+chilling wail from the mountain top. "You are afraid that I will
+kill you."
+
+"It is a warning, M'seur. You might try. But I should probably kill you.
+As it is--" he shrugged his shoulders as he led the way down the
+ridge--"as it is, there is small chance of Jean Croisset answering
+the call."
+
+"May those saints of yours preserve me, Jean, but this is all very
+cheerful!" grunted Howland, half laughing in spite of himself. "Now that
+I'm tied up again, who the devil is there to die--but me?"
+
+"That is a hard question, M'seur," replied the half-breed with grim
+seriousness. "Perhaps it is your turn. I half believe that it is."
+
+Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when there came again the
+moaning howl from the top of the ridge.
+
+"You're getting on my nerves, Jean--you and that accursed dog!"
+
+"Silence, M'seur!"
+
+Out of the grim loneliness at the foot of the mountain there loomed a
+shadow which at first Howland took to be a huge mass of rock. A few
+steps farther and he saw that it was a building. Croisset gripped him
+firmly by the arm.
+
+"Stay here," he commanded. "I will return soon."
+
+For a quarter of an hour Howland waited. Twice in that interval the dog
+howled above him. He was glad when Croisset appeared out of the gloom.
+
+"It is as I thought, M'seur. There is death down here. Come with me!"
+
+The shadow of the big building shrouded them as they approached. Howland
+could make out that it was built of massive logs and that there seemed
+to be neither door nor window on their side. And yet when Jean hesitated
+for an instant before a blotch of gloom that was deeper than the others,
+he knew that they had come to an entrance. Croisset advanced softly,
+sniffing the air suspiciously with his thin nostrils, and listening,
+with Howland so close to him that their shoulders touched. From the top
+of the mountain there came again the mournful death-song of old Woonga,
+and Jean shivered. Howland stared into the blotch of gloom, and still
+staring he followed Croisset--entered--and disappeared in it. About them
+was the stillness and the damp smell of desertion. There was no visible
+sign of life, no breathing, no movement but their own, and yet Howland
+could feel the half-breed's hand clutch him nervously by the arm as they
+went step by step into the black and silent mystery of the place. Soon
+there came a fumbling of Croisset's hand at a latch and they passed
+through a second door. Then Jean struck a match.
+
+Half a dozen steps away was a table and on the table a lamp. Croisset
+lighted it, and with a quiet laugh faced the engineer. They were in a
+low, dungeon-like chamber, without a window and with but the one door
+through which they had entered. The table, two chairs, a stove and a
+bunk built against one of the log walls were all that Howland could see.
+But it was not the barrenness of what he imagined was to be his new
+prison that held his eyes in staring inquiry on Croisset. It was the
+look in his companion's face, the yellow pallor of fear--a horror--that
+had taken possession of it. The half-breed closed and bolted the door,
+and then sat down beside the table, his thin face peering up through the
+sickly lamp-glow at the engineer.
+
+"M'seur, it would be hard for you to guess where you are."
+
+Howland waited.
+
+"If you had lived in this country long, M'seur, you would have heard of
+_la Maison de Mort Rouge_--the House of the Red Death, as you would call
+it. That is where we are--in the dungeon room. It is a Hudson Bay post,
+abandoned almost since I can remember. When I was a child the smallpox
+plague came this way and killed all the people. Nineteen years ago the
+red plague came again, and not one lived through it in this _Poste de
+Mort Rouge._ Since then it has been left to the weasels and the owls. It
+is shunned by every living soul between the Athabasca and the bay. That
+is why you are safe here."
+
+"Ye gods!" breathed Howland. "Is there anything more, Croisset? Safe
+from what, man? Safe from what?"
+
+"From those who wish to kill you, M'seur. You would not go into the
+South, so _la belle_ Meleese has compelled you to go into the North,
+_Comprenez-vous?_"
+
+For a moment Howland sat as if stunned.
+
+"Do you understand, M'seur?" persisted Croisset, smiling.
+
+"I--I--think I do," replied Howland tensely. "You mean--Meleese--"
+
+Jean took the words from him.
+
+"I mean that you would have died last night, M'seur, had it not been for
+Meleese. You escaped from the coyote--but you would not have escaped
+from the other. That is all I can tell you. But you will be safe here.
+Those who seek your life will soon believe that you are dead, and then
+we will let you go back. Is that not a kind fate for one who deserves to
+be cut into bits and fed to the ravens?"
+
+"You will tell me nothing more, Jean?" the engineer asked.
+
+"Nothing--except that while I would like to kill you I have sympathy for
+you. That, perhaps, is because I once lived in the South. For six years
+I was with the company in Montreal, where I went to school."
+
+He rose to his feet, tying the flap of his caribou skin coat about his
+throat. Then he unbolted and opened the door. Faintly there came to
+them, as if from a great distance, the wailing grief of Woonga, the dog.
+
+"You said there was death here," whispered Howland, leaning close to his
+shoulder.
+
+"There is one who has lived here since the last plague," replied
+Croisset under his breath. "He lost his wife and children and it drove
+him mad. That is why we came down so quietly. He lived in a little cabin
+out there on the edge of the clearing, and when I went to it to-night
+there was a sapling over the house with a flag at the end of it. When
+the plague comes to us we hang out a red flag as a warning to others.
+That is one of our laws. The flag is blown to tatters by the winds.
+He is dead."
+
+Howland shuddered.
+
+"Of the smallpox?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+For a few moments they stood in silence. Then Croisset added, "You will
+remain here, M'seur, until I return."
+
+He went out, closing and barring the door from the other side, and
+Howland seated himself again in the chair beside the table. Fifteen
+minutes later the half-breed returned, bearing with him a good-sized
+pack and a two-gallon jug.
+
+"There is wood back of the stove, M'seur. Here is food and water for a
+week, and furs for your bed. Now I will cut those thongs about
+your wrists."
+
+"Do you mean to say you're going to leave me here alone--in this
+wretched prison?" cried Howland.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, is it not better than a grave, M'seur? I will be back at
+the end of a week."
+
+The door was partly open and for the last time there came to Howland's
+ears the mourning howl of the old dog on the mountain top. Almost
+threateningly he gripped Croisset's arm.
+
+"Jean--if you don't come back--what will happen?"
+
+He heard the half-breed chuckling.
+
+"You will die, M'seur, pleasantly and taking your own time at it, which
+is much better than dying over a case of dynamite. But I will come back,
+M'seur. Good-by!"
+
+Again the door was closed and bolted and the sound of Croisset's
+footsteps quickly died away beyond the log walls. Many minutes passed
+before Howland thought of his pipe, or a fire. Then, shiveringly, he
+went to seek the fuel which Jean had told him was behind the stove. The
+old bay stove was soon roaring with the fire which he built, and as the
+soothing fumes of his pipe impregnated the damp air of the room he
+experienced a sensation of comfort which was in strange contrast to the
+exciting happenings of the past few days.
+
+At last he was alone, with nothing to do for a week but eat, sleep and
+smoke. He had plenty of tobacco and an inspection of the pack showed
+that Croisset had left him well stocked with food. Tilted back in a
+chair, with his feet on the table, he absorbed the cheerful heat from
+the stove, sent up clouds of smoke, and wondered if the half-breed had
+already started back into the South. What would MacDonald say when
+Jackpine came in with the report that he had slipped to his death in the
+waterfall? Probably his first move would be to send the most powerful
+team on the Wekusko in pursuit of Gregson and Thorne. The departing
+engineers would be compelled to return, and then--
+
+He laughed aloud and began pacing back and forth across the rotted floor
+of his prison as he pictured the consternation of the two seniors. And
+then a flush burned in his face and his eyes glowed as he thought of
+Meleese. In spite of himself she had saved him from his enemies, and he
+blessed Croisset for having told him the meaning of this flight into the
+North. Once again she had betrayed him, but this time it was to save his
+life, and his heart leaped in joyous faith at this proof of her love
+for him. He believed that he understood the whole scheme now. Even his
+enemies would think him dead. They would leave the Wekusko and after a
+time, when it was safe for him to return, he would be given his freedom.
+
+With the passing of the hours gloomier thoughts shadowed these
+anticipations. In some mysterious way Meleese was closely associated
+with those who sought his life, and if they disappeared she would
+disappear with them. He was convinced of that. And then--could he find
+her again? Would she go into the South--to civilization--or deeper into
+the untraveled wildernesses of the North? In answer to his question
+there flashed through his mind the words of Jean Croisset: "M'seur, I
+know of a hundred men between Athabasca and the bay who would kill you
+for what you have said." Yes, she would go into the North. Somewhere in
+that vast desolation of which Jean had spoken he would find her, even
+though he spent half of his life in the search!
+
+It was past midnight when he spread out the furs and undressed for bed.
+He opened the stove door and from the bunk watched the faint flickerings
+of the dying firelight on the log walls. As slumber closed his eyes he
+was conscious of a sound--the faint, hungerful, wailing cry to which he
+had listened that first night near Prince Albert. It was a wolf, and
+drowsily he wondered how he could hear the cry through the thick log
+walls of his prison. The answer came to him the moment he opened his
+eyes, hours later. A bit of pale sunlight was falling into the room and
+he saw that it entered through a narrow aperture close up to the
+ceiling. After he had prepared his breakfast he dragged the table under
+this aperture and by standing on it was enabled to peer through. A
+hundred yards away was the black edge of the spruce and balsam forest.
+Between him and the forest, half smothered in the deep snow, was a
+cabin, and he shuddered as he saw floating over it the little red signal
+of death of which Croisset had told him the night before.
+
+With the breaking of this day the hours seemed of interminable length.
+For a time he amused himself by searching every corner and crevice of
+his prison room, but he found nothing of interest beyond what he had
+already discovered. He examined the door which Croisset had barred on
+him, and gave up all hope of escape in that direction. He could barely
+thrust his arm through the aperture that opened out on the
+plague-stricken cabin. For the first time since the stirring beginning
+of his adventures at Prince Albert a sickening sense of his own
+impotency began to weigh on Howland. He was a prisoner--penned up in a
+desolate room in the heart of a wilderness. And he, Jack Howland, a man
+who had always taken pride in his physical prowess, had allowed one man
+to place him there.
+
+His blood began to boil as he thought of it. Now, as he had time and
+silence in which to look back on what had happened, he was enraged at
+the pictures that flashed one after another before him. He had allowed
+himself to be used as nothing more than a pawn in a strange and
+mysterious game. It was not through his efforts alone that he had been
+saved in the fight on the Saskatchewan trail. Blindly he had walked into
+the trap at the coyote. Still more blindly he had allowed himself to be
+led into the ambush at the Wekusko camp. And more like a child than a
+man he had submitted himself to Jean Croisset!
+
+He stamped back and forth across the room, smoking viciously, and his
+face grew red with the thoughts that were stirring venom within him. He
+placed no weight on circumstances; in these moments he found no excuse
+for himself. In no situation had he displayed the white feather, at no
+time had he felt a thrill of fear. His courage and recklessness had
+terrified Meleese, had astonished Croisset. And yet--what had he done?
+From the beginning--from the moment he first placed his foot in the
+Chinese cafe--his enemies had held the whip-hand. He had been compelled
+to play a passive part. Up to the point of the ambush on the Wekusko
+trail he might have found some vindication for himself. But this
+experience with Jean Croisset--it was enough to madden him, now that he
+was alone, to think about it. Why had _he_ not taken advantage of Jean,
+as Jackpine and the Frenchman had taken advantage of him?
+
+He saw now what he might have done. Somewhere, not very far back, the
+sledge carrying Meleese and Jackpine had turned into the unknown. They
+two were alone. Why had he not made Croisset a prisoner, instead of
+allowing himself to be caged up like a weakling? He swore aloud as there
+dawned on him more and more a realization of the opportunity he had
+lost. At the point of a gun he could have forced Croisset to overtake
+the other sledge. He could have surprised Jackpine, as they had
+surprised him on the trail. And then? He smiled, but there was no humor
+in the smile. He at least would have held the whip-hand. And what would
+Meleese have done?
+
+He asked himself question after question, answering them quickly and
+decisively in the same breath. Meleese loved him. He would have staked
+his life on that. His blood leaped as he felt again the thrill of her
+kisses when she had come to him as he lay bound and gagged beside the
+trail. She had taken his head in her arms, and through the grief of her
+face he had seen shining the light of a great love that had glorified it
+for all time for him. She loved him! And he had let her slip away from
+him, had weakly surrendered himself at a moment when everything that he
+had dreamed of might have been within his grasp. With Jackpine and
+Croisset in his power--
+
+He went no further. Was it too late to do these things now? Croisset
+would return. With a sort of satisfaction it occurred to him that his
+actions had disarmed the Frenchman of suspicion. He believed that it
+would be easy to overcome Croisset, to force him to follow in the trail
+of Meleese and Jackpine. And that trail? It would probably lead to the
+very stronghold of his enemies. But what of that? He loaded his pipe
+again, puffing out clouds of smoke until the room was thick with it.
+That trail would take him to Meleese--wherever she was. Heretofore his
+enemies had come to him; now he would go to them. With Croisset in his
+power, and with none of his enemies aware of his presence, everything
+would be in his favor. He laughed aloud as a sudden thrilling thought
+flashed into his mind. As a last resort he would use Jean as a decoy.
+
+He foresaw how easy it would be to bring Meleese to him--to see
+Croisset. His own presence would be like the dropping of a bomb at her
+feet. In that moment, when she saw what he was risking for her, that he
+was determined to possess her, would she not surrender to the pleading
+of his love? If not he would do the other thing--that which had brought
+the joyous laugh to his lips. All was fair in war and love, and theirs
+was a game of love. Because of her love for him Meleese had kidnapped
+him from his post of duty, had sent him a prisoner to this death-house
+in the wilderness. Love had exculpated her. That same love would
+exculpate him. He would make her a prisoner, and Jean should drive them
+back to the Wekusko. Meleese herself had set the pace and he would
+follow it. And what woman, if she loved a man, would not surrender after
+this? In their sledge trip he would have her to himself, for not only an
+hour or two, but for days. Surely in that time he could win. There would
+be pursuit, perhaps; he might have to fight--but he was willing, and a
+trifle anxious, to fight.
+
+He went to bed that night, and dreamed of things that were to happen. A
+second day, a third night, and a third day came. With each hour grew his
+anxiety for Jean's return. At times he was almost feverish to have the
+affair over with. He was confident of the outcome, and yet he did not
+fail to take the Frenchman's true measurement. He knew that Jean was
+like live wire and steel, as agile as a cat, more than a match with
+himself in open fight despite his own superior weight and size. He
+devised a dozen schemes for Jean's undoing. One was to leap on him
+while he was eating; another to spring on him and choke him into partial
+insensibility as he knelt beside his pack or fed the fire; a third to
+strike a blow from behind that would render him powerless. But there was
+something in this last that was repugnant to him. He remembered that
+Jean had saved his life, that in no instance had he given him physical
+pain. He would watch for an opportunity, take advantage of the
+Frenchman, as Croisset had taken advantage of him, but he would not hurt
+him seriously. It should be as fair a struggle as Jean had offered him,
+and with the handicap in his favor the best man would win.
+
+On the morning of the fourth day Howland was awakened by a sound that
+came through the aperture in the wall. It was the sharp yelping bark of
+a dog, followed an instant later by the sharper crack of a whip, and a
+familiar voice.
+
+Jean Croisset had returned!
+
+With a single leap he was out of his bunk. Half dressed he darted to
+the door, and crouched there, the muscles of his arms tightening, his
+body tense with the gathering forces within him.
+
+The spur of the moment had driven him to quick decision. His opportunity
+would come when Jean Croisset passed through that door!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+THE FIGHT
+
+Beyond the door Howland heard Jean pause. There followed a few moments
+silence, as though the other were listening for sound within. Then there
+came a fumbling at the bar and the door swung inward.
+
+"_Bon jour_, M'seur," called Jean's cheerful voice as he stepped inside.
+"Is it possible you are not up, with all this dog-barking and--"
+
+His eyes had gone to the empty bunk. Despite his cheerful greeting
+Howland saw that the Frenchman's face was haggard and pale as he turned
+quickly toward him. He observed no further than that, but flung his
+whole weight on the unprepared Croisset, and together they crashed to
+the floor. There was scarce a struggle and Jean lay still. He was flat
+on his back, his arms pinioned to his sides, and bringing himself
+astride the Frenchman's body so that each knee imprisoned an arm Howland
+coolly began looping the babeesh thongs that he had snatched from the
+table as he sprang to the door. Behind Howland's back Jean's legs shot
+suddenly upward. In a quick choking clutch of steel-like muscle they
+gripped about his neck like powerful arms and in another instant he was
+twisted backward with a force that sent him half neck-broken to the
+opposite wall. He staggered to his feet, dazed for a moment, and Jean
+Croisset stood in the middle of the floor, his caribou skin coat thrown
+off, his hands clenched, his eyes darkening with a dangerous fire. As
+quickly as it had come, the fire died away, and as he advanced slowly,
+his shoulders punched over, his white teeth gleamed in a smile. Howland
+smiled back, and advanced to meet him. There was no humor, no
+friendliness in the smiles. Both had seen that flash of teeth and deadly
+scintillation of eyes at other times, both knew what it meant.
+
+"I believe that I will kill you, M'seur," said Jean softly. There was
+no excitement, no tremble of passion in his voice. "I have been thinking
+that I ought to kill you. I had almost made up my mind to kill you when
+I came back to this _Maison de Mort Rouge_. It is the justice of God
+that I kill you!"
+
+The two men circled, like beasts in a pit, Howland in the attitude of a
+boxer, Jean with his shoulders bent, his arms slightly curved at his
+side, the toes of his moccasined feet bearing his weight. Suddenly he
+launched himself at the other's throat.
+
+In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing
+blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his
+back. Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet. It was the first time that
+he had ever come into contact with science. He was puzzled. His head
+rang, and for a few moments he was dizzy. He darted in again, in his
+old, quick, cat-like way, and received a blow that dazed him. This time
+he kept his feet.
+
+"I am sure now that I am going to kill you, M'seur," he said, as coolly
+as before.
+
+There was something terribly calm and decisive in his voice. He was not
+excited. He was not afraid. His fingers did not go near the weapons in
+his belt, and slowly the smile faded from Howland's lips as Jean circled
+about him. He had never fought a man of this kind; never had he looked
+on the appalling confidence that was in his antagonist's eyes. From
+those eyes, rather than from the man, he found himself slowly
+retreating. They followed him, never taking themselves from his face. In
+them the fire returned and grew deeper. Two dull red spots began to glow
+in Croisset's cheeks, and he laughed softly when he suddenly leaped in
+so that Howland struck at him--and missed. He knew what to expect now.
+And Howland knew what to expect.
+
+It was the science of one world pitted against that of another--the
+science of civilization against that of the wilderness. Howland was
+trained in his art. For sport Jean had played with wounded lynx; his was
+the quickness of sight, of instinct--the quickness of the great north
+loon that had often played this same game with his rifle-fire, of the
+sledge-dog whose ripping fangs carried death so quickly that eyes could
+not follow. A third and a fourth time he came within distance and
+Howland struck and missed.
+
+"I am going to kill you," he said again.
+
+To this point Howland had remained cool. Self-possession in his science
+he knew to be half the battle. But he felt in him now a slow, swelling
+anger. The smiling flash in Jean's eyes began to irritate him; the
+fearless, taunting gleam of his teeth, his audacious confidence, put him
+on edge. Twice again he struck out swiftly, but Jean had come and gone
+like a dart. His lithe body, fifty pounds lighter than Howland's, seemed
+to be that of a boy dodging him in some tantalizing sport. The Frenchman
+made no effort at attack; his were the tactics of the wolf at the heels
+of the bull moose, of the lynx before the prongs of a cornered
+buck--tiring, worrying, ceaseless.
+
+Howland's striking muscles began to ache and his breath was growing
+shorter with the exertions which seemed to have no effect on Croisset.
+For a few moments he took the aggressive, rushing Jean to the stove,
+behind the table, twice around the room--striving vainly to drive him
+into a corner, to reach him with one of the sweeping blows which
+Croisset evaded with the lightning quickness of a hell-diver. When he
+stopped, his breath came in wind-broken gasps. Jean drew nearer,
+smiling, ferociously cool.
+
+"I am going to kill you, M'seur," he repeated again.
+
+Howland dropped his arms, his fingers relaxed, and he forced his breath
+between his lips as if he were on the point of exhaustion. There were
+still a few tricks in his science, and these, he knew, were about his
+last cards. He backed into a corner, and Jean followed, his eyes
+flashing a steely light, his body growing more and more tense.
+
+"Now, M'seur, I am going to kill you," he said in the same low voice. "I
+am going to break your neck."
+
+Howland backed against the wall, partly turned as if fearing the other's
+attack, and yet without strength to repel it. There was a contemptuous
+smile on Croisset's lips as he poised himself for an instant. Then he
+leaped in, and as his fingers gripped at the other's throat Howland's
+right arm shot upward in a deadly short-arm punch that caught his
+antagonist under the jaw. Without a sound Jean staggered back, tottered
+for a moment on his feet, and fell to the floor. Fifty seconds later he
+opened his eyes to find his hands bound behind his back and Howland
+standing at his feet.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but that was a good one!" he gasped, after he had taken a
+long breath or two. "Will you teach it to me, M'seur?"
+
+"Get up!" commanded Howland. "I have no time to waste, Croisset." He
+caught the Frenchman by the shoulders and helped him to a chair near the
+table. Then he took possession of the other's weapons, including the
+revolver which Jean had taken from him, and began to dress. He spoke no
+word until he was done.
+
+"Do you understand what is going to happen Croisset?" he cried then, his
+eyes blazing hotly. "Do you understand that what you have done will put
+you behind prison bars for ten years or more? Does it dawn on you that
+I'm going to take you back to the authorities, and that as soon as we
+reach the Wekusko I'll have twenty men back on the trail of these
+friends of yours?"
+
+A gray pallor spread itself over Jean's thin face.
+
+"The great God, M'seur, you can not do that!"
+
+"_Can not!_" Howland's fingers dug into the edge of the table. "By this
+great God of yours, Croisset, but I will! And why not? Is it because
+Meleese is among this gang of cut-throats and murderers? Pish, my dear
+Jean, you must be a fool. They tried to kill me on the trail, tried it
+again in the coyote, and you came back here determined to kill me.
+You've held the whip-hand from the first. Now it's mine. I swear that if
+I take you back to the Wekusko we'll get you all."
+
+"_If_, M'seur?"
+
+"Yes--_if_."
+
+"And that 'if'--" Jean was straining against the table.
+
+"It rests with you, Croisset. I will bargain with you. Either I shall
+take you back to the Wekusko, hand you over to the authorities and send
+a force after the others--or you shall take me to Meleese. Which
+shall it be?"
+
+"And if I take you to Meleese, M'seur?"
+
+Howland straightened, his voice trembling a little with excitement.
+
+"If you take me to Meleese, and swear to do as I say, I shall bring no
+harm to you or your friends."
+
+"And Meleese--" Jean's eyes darkened again, "You will not harm her,
+M'seur?"
+
+"Harm _her_!" There was a laughing tremor in Howland's voice. "Good God,
+man, are you so blind that you can't see that I am doing this because of
+her? I tell you that I love her, and that I am willing to die in
+fighting for her. Until now I haven't had the chance. You and your
+friends have played a cowardly underhand game, Croisset. You have taken
+me from behind at every move, and now it's up to you to square yourself
+a little or there's going to be hell to pay. Understand? You take me to
+Meleese or there'll be a clean-up that will put you and the whole bunch
+out of business. _Harm her_--" Again Howland laughed, leaning his white
+face toward Jean. "Come, which shall it be, Croisset?"
+
+A cold glitter, like the snap of sparks from striking steels, shot from
+the Frenchman's eyes. The grayish pallor went from his face. His teeth
+gleamed in the enigmatic smile that had half undone Howland in
+the fight.
+
+"You are mistaken in some things, M'seur," he said quietly. "Until
+to-day I have fought for you and not against you. But now you have left
+me but one choice. I will take you to Meleese, and that means--"
+
+"Good!" cried Howland.
+
+"La, la, M'seur--not so good as you think. It means that as surely as
+the dogs carry us there you will never come back. _Mon Dieu,_ your death
+is certain!"
+
+Howland turned briskly to the stove.
+
+"Hungry, Jean?" he asked more companionably. "Let's not quarrel, man.
+You've had your fun, and now I'm going to have mine. Have you had
+breakfast?"
+
+"I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur," replied Jean with
+grim humor.
+
+"And then--after I had fed you--you were going to kill me, my dear
+Jean," laughed Howland, flopping a huge caribou steak on the naked top
+of the sheet-iron stove. "Real nice fellow you are, eh?"
+
+"You ought to be killed, M'seur."
+
+"So you've said before. When I see Meleese I'm going to know the reason
+why, or--"
+
+"Or what, M'seur?"
+
+"Kill you, Jean. I've just about made up my mind that you ought to be
+killed. If any one dies up where we're going, Croisset, it will be you
+first of all."
+
+Jean remained silent. A few minutes later Howland brought the caribou
+steak, a dish of flour cakes and a big pot of coffee to the table. Then
+he went behind Jean and untied his hands. When he sat down at his own
+side of the table he cocked his revolver and placed it beside his tin
+plate. Jean grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It means business," said his captor warningly. "If at any time I think
+you deserve it I shall shoot you in your tracks, Croisset, so don't
+arouse my suspicions."
+
+"I took your word of honor," said Jean sarcastically.
+
+"And I will take yours to an extent," replied Howland, pouring the
+coffee. Suddenly he picked up the revolver. "You never saw me shoot, did
+you? See that cup over there?" He pointed to a small tin pack-cup
+hanging to a nail on the wall a dozen paces from them. Three times
+without missing he drove bullets through it, and smiled across
+at Croisset.
+
+"I am going to give you the use of your arms and legs, except at night,"
+he said.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, it is safe," grunted Jean. "I give you my word that I will
+be good, M'seur."
+
+The sun was up when Croisset led the way outside. His dogs and sledge
+were a hundred yards from the building, and Howland's first move was to
+take possession of the Frenchman's rifle and eject the cartridges while
+Jean tossed chunks of caribou flesh to the huskies. When they were ready
+to start Jean turned slowly and half reached out a mittened hand to
+the engineer.
+
+"M'seur," he said softly, "I can not help liking you, though I know that
+I should have killed you long ago. I tell you again that if you go into
+the North there is only one chance in a hundred that you will come back
+alive. Great God, M'seur, up where you wish to go the very trees will
+fall on you and the carrion ravens pick, out your eyes! And that
+chance--that one chance in a hundred, M'seur--"
+
+"I will take," interrupted Howland decisively.
+
+"I was going to say, M'seur," finished Jean quietly, "that unless
+accident has befallen those who left Wekusko yesterday that one chance
+is gone. If you go South you are safe. If you go into the North you are
+no better than a dead man."
+
+"There will at least be a little fun at the finish," laughed the young
+engineer. "Come, Jean, hit up the dogs!"
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, I say you are a fool--and a brave man," said Croisset, and
+his whip twisted sinuously in mid-air and cracked in sharp command over
+the yellow backs of the huskies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+THE PURSUIT
+
+Behind the sledge ran Howland, to the right of the team ran Jean. Once
+or twice when Croisset glanced back his eyes met those of the engineer.
+He cracked his whip and smiled, and Howland's teeth gleamed back coldly
+in reply. A mutual understanding flashed between them in these glances.
+In a sudden spurt Howland knew that the Frenchman could quickly put
+distance between them--but not a distance that his bullets could not
+cover in the space of a breath. He had made up his mind to fire,
+deliberately and with his greatest skill, if Croisset made the slightest
+movement toward escape. If he was compelled to kill or wound his
+companion he could still go on alone with the dogs, for the trail of
+Meleese and Jackpine would be as plain as their own, which they were
+following back into the South.
+
+For the second time since coming into the North he felt the blood
+leaping through his veins as on that first night in Prince Albert when
+from the mountain he had heard the lone wolf, and when later he had seen
+the beautiful face through the hotel window. Howland was one of the few
+men who possess unbounded confidence in themselves, who place a certain
+pride in their physical as well as their mental capabilities, and he was
+confident now. His successful and indomitable fight over obstacles in a
+big city had made this confidence a genuine part of his being. It was a
+confidence that flushed his face with joyous enthusiasm as he ran after
+the dogs, and that astonished and puzzled Jean Croisset.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but you are a strange man!" exclaimed the Frenchman when he
+brought the dogs down to a walk after a half mile run. "Blessed saints,
+M'seur, you are laughing--and I swear it is no laughing matter."
+
+"Shouldn't a man be happy when he is going to his wedding, Jean?"
+puffed Howland, gasping to get back the breath he had lost.
+
+"But not when he's going to his funeral, M'seur."
+
+"If I were one of your blessed saints I'd hit you over the head with a
+thunderbolt, Croisset. Good Lord, what sort of a heart have you got
+inside of your jacket, man? Up there where we're going is the sweetest
+little girl in the whole world. I love her. She loves me. Why shouldn't
+I be happy, now that I know I'm going to see her again very soon--and
+take her back into the South with me?"
+
+"The devil!" grunted Jean.
+
+"Perhaps you're jealous, Croisset," suggested Howland. "Great Scott, I
+hadn't thought of _that!_"
+
+"I've got one of my own to love, M'seur; and I wouldn't trade her for
+all else in the world."
+
+"Damned if I can understand you," swore the engineer. "You appear to be
+half human; you say you're in love, and yet you'd rather risk your life
+than help out Meleese and me. What the deuce does it mean?"
+
+"That's what I'm doing, M'seur--helping Meleese. I would have done her a
+greater service if I had killed you back there on the trail and stripped
+your body for those things that would be foul enough to eat it. I have
+told you a dozen times that it is God's justice that you die. And you
+are going to die--very soon, M'seur."
+
+"No, I'm not going to die, Jean. I'm going to see Meleese, and she's
+going back into the South with me. And if you're real good you may have
+the pleasure of driving us back to the Wekusko, Croisset, and you can be
+my best man at the wedding. What do you say to that?"
+
+"That you are mad--or a fool," retorted Jean, cracking his whip
+viciously.
+
+The dogs swung sharply from the trail, heading from their southerly
+course into the northwest.
+
+"We will save a day by doing this," explained Croisset at the other's
+sharp word of inquiry. "We will hit the other trail twenty miles west of
+here, while by following back to where they turned we would travel sixty
+miles to reach the same point. That one chance in a hundred which you
+have depends on this, M'seur. If the other sledge has passed--"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders and started the dogs into a trot.
+
+"Look here," cried Howland, running beside him. "Who is with this other
+sledge?"
+
+"Those who tried to kill you on the trail and at the coyote, M'seur," he
+answered quickly.
+
+Howland fell half a dozen paces behind. By the end of the first hour he
+was compelled to rest frequently by taking to the sledge, and their
+progress was much slower. Jean no longer made answer to his occasional
+questions. Doggedly he swung on ahead to the right and a little behind
+the team leader, and Howland could see that for some reason Croisset was
+as anxious as himself to make the best time possible. His own
+impatience increased as the morning lengthened. Jean's assurance that
+the mysterious enemies who had twice attempted his life were only a
+short distance behind them, or a short distance ahead, set a new and
+desperate idea at work in his brain. He was confident that these men
+from the Wekusko were his chief menace, and that with them once out of
+the way, and with the Frenchman in his power, the fight which he was
+carrying into the enemy's country would be half won. There would then be
+no one to recognize him but Meleese.
+
+His heart leaped with joyous hope, and he leaned forward on the sledge
+to examine Croisset's empty gun. It was an automatic, and Croisset,
+glancing back over the loping backs of the huskies, caught him smiling.
+He ran more frequently now, and longer distances, and with the passing
+of each mile his determination to strike a decisive blow increased. If
+they reached the trail of Meleese and Jackpine before the crossing of
+the second sledge he would lay in wait for his old enemies; if they had
+preceded them he would pursue and surprise them in camp. In either case
+he would possess an overwhelming advantage.
+
+With the same calculating attention to detail that he would have shown
+in the arrangement of plans for the building of a tunnel or a bridge, he
+drew a mental map of his scheme and its possibilities. There would be at
+least two men with the sledge, and possibly three. If they surrendered
+at the point of his rifle without a fight he would compel Jean to tie
+them up with dog-traces while he held them under cover. If they made a
+move to offer resistance he would shoot. With the automatic he could
+kill or wound the three before they could reach their rifles, which
+would undoubtedly be on the sledge. The situation had now reached a
+point where he no longer took into consideration what these men might be
+to Meleese.
+
+As they continued into the northwest Howland noted that the thicker
+forest was gradually clearing into wide areas of small banskian pine,
+and that the rock ridges and dense swamps which had impeded their
+progress were becoming less numerous. An hour before noon, after a
+tedious climb to the top of a frozen ridge, Croisset pointed down into a
+vast level plain lying between them and other great ridges far to
+the north.
+
+"That is a bit of the Barren Lands that creeps down between those
+mountains off there, M'seur," he said. "Do you see that black forest
+that looks like a charred log in the snow to the south and west of the
+mountains? That is the break that leads into the country of the
+Athabasca. Somewhere between this point and that we will strike the
+trail. Mon Dieu, I had half expected to see them out there on
+the plain."
+
+"Who? Meleese and Jackpine, or--"
+
+"No, the others, M'seur. Shall we have dinner here?"
+
+"Not until we hit the trail," replied Howland. "I'm anxious to know
+about that one chance in a hundred you've given me hope of, Croisset. If
+they have passed--"
+
+"If they are ahead of us you might just as well stand out there and let
+me put a bullet through you, M'seur."
+
+He went to the head of the dogs, guiding them down the rough side of the
+ridge, while Howland steadied the toboggan from behind. For
+three-quarters of an hour they traversed the low bush of the plain in
+silence. From every rising snow hummock Jean scanned the white
+desolation about them, and each time, as nothing that was human came
+within his vision, he turned toward the engineer with a sinister shrug
+of his shoulders. Once three moving caribou, a mile or more away,
+brought a quick cry to his lips and Howland noticed that a sudden flush
+of excitement came into his face, replaced in the next instant by a look
+of disappointment. After this he maintained a more careful guard over
+the Frenchman. They had covered less than half of the distance to the
+caribou trail when in a small open space free of bush Croisset's voice
+rose sharply and the team stopped.
+
+"What do you think of it, M'seur?" he cried, pointing to the snow.
+"What do you think of that?"
+
+Barely cutting into the edge of the open was the broken crust of two
+sledge trails. For a moment Howland forgot his caution and bent over to
+examine the trails, with his back to his companion. When he looked up
+there was a curious laughing gleam in Jean's eyes.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but you are careless!" he exclaimed. "Be more careful,
+M'seur. I may give myself up to another temptation like that."
+
+"The deuce you say!" cried Howland, springing back quickly. "I'm much
+obliged, Jean. If it wasn't for the moral effect of the thing I'd shake
+hands with you on that. How far ahead of us do you suppose they are?"
+
+Croisset had fallen on his knees in the trail.
+
+"The crust is freshly broken," he said after a moment. "They have been
+gone not less than two or three hours, perhaps since morning. See this
+white glistening surface over the first trail, M'seur, like a billion
+needle-points growing out of it? That is the work of three or four
+days' cold. The first sledge passed that long ago."
+
+Howland turned and picked up Croisset's rifle. The Frenchman watched him
+as he slipped a clip full of cartridges into the breech.
+
+"If there's a snack of cold stuff in the pack dig it out," he commanded.
+"We'll eat on the run, if you've got anything to eat. If you haven't,
+we'll go hungry. We're going to overtake that sledge sometime this
+afternoon or to-night--or bust!"
+
+"The saints be blessed, then we are most certain to bust, M'seur,"
+gasped Jean. "And if we don't the dogs will. Non, it is impossible!"
+
+"Is there anything to eat?"
+
+"A morsel of cold meat--that is all. But I say that it is impossible.
+That sledge--"
+
+Howland interrupted him with an impatient gesture.
+
+"And I say that if there is anything to eat in there, get it out, and be
+quick about it, Croisset. We're going to overtake those precious
+friends of yours, and I warn you that if you make any attempt to lose
+time something unpleasant is going to happen. Understand?"
+
+Jean had bent to unstrap one end of the sledge pack and an angry flash
+leaped into his eyes at the threatening tone of the engineer's voice.
+For a moment he seemed on the point of speech, but caught himself and in
+silence divided the small chunk of meat which he drew from the pack,
+giving the larger share to Howland as he went to the head of the dogs.
+Only once or twice during the next hour did he look back, and after each
+of these glances he redoubled his efforts at urging on the huskies.
+Before they had come to the edge of the black banskian forest which Jean
+had pointed out from the farther side of the plain, Howland saw that the
+pace was telling on the team. The leader was trailing lame, and now and
+then the whole pack would settle back in their traces, to be urged on
+again by the fierce cracking of Croisset's long whip. To add to his own
+discomfiture Howland found that he could no longer keep up with Jean
+and the dogs, and with his weight added to the sledge the huskies
+settled down into a tugging walk.
+
+Thus they came into the deep low forest, and Jean, apparently oblivious
+of the exhaustion of both man and dogs, walked now in advance of the
+team, his eyes constantly on the thin trail ahead. Howland could not
+fail to see that his unnecessary threat of a few hours before still
+rankled in the Frenchman's mind, and several times he made an effort to
+break the other's taciturnity. But Jean strode on in moody silence,
+answering only those things which were put to him directly, and speaking
+not an unnecessary word. At last the engineer jumped from the sledge and
+overtook his companion.
+
+"Hold on, Jean," he cried. "I've got enough. You're right, and I want to
+apologize. We're busted--that is, the dogs and I are busted, and we
+might as well give it up until we've had a feed. What do you say?"
+
+"I say that you have stopped just in time, M'seur," replied Croisset
+with purring softness. "Another half hour and we would have been through
+the forest, and just beyond that--in the edge of the plain--are those
+whom you seek, Meleese and her people. That is what I started to tell
+you back there when you shut me up. _Mon Dieu_, if it were not for
+Meleese I would let you go on. And then--what would happen then, M'seur,
+if you made your visit to them in broad day? Listen!"
+
+Jean lifted a warning hand. Faintly there came to them through the
+forest the distant baying of a hound.
+
+"That is one of our dogs from the Mackenzie country," he went on softly,
+an insinuating triumph in his low voice. "Now, M'seur, that I have
+brought you here what are you going to do? Shall we go on and take
+dinner with those who are going to kill you, or will you wait a few
+hours? Eh, which shall it be?"
+
+For a moment Howland stood motionless, stunned by the Frenchman's words.
+Quickly he recovered himself. His eyes burned with a metallic gleam as
+they met the half taunt in Croisset's cool smile.
+
+"If I had not stopped you--we would have gone on?" he questioned
+tensely.
+
+"To be sure, M'seur," retorted Croisset, still smiling. "You warned me
+to lose no time--that something would happen if I did."
+
+With a quick movement Howland drew his revolver and leveled it at the
+Frenchman's heart.
+
+"If you ever prayed to those blessed saints of yours, do it now, Jean
+Croisset. I'm going to kill you!" he cried fiercely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+THE GLEAM OF THE LIGHT
+
+In a single breath the face of Jean Croisset became no more than a mask
+of what it had been. The taunting smile left his lips and a gray pallor
+spread over his face as he saw Howland's finger crooked firmly on the
+trigger of his revolver. In another instant there came the sound of a
+metallic snap.
+
+"Damnation! An empty cartridge!" Howland exclaimed. "I forgot to load
+after those three shots at the cup. It's coming this time, Jean!"
+
+Purposely he snapped the second empty cartridge.
+
+"The great God!" gasped Jean. "M'seur--"
+
+From deep in the forest came again the baying of the Mackenzie hound.
+This time it was much nearer, and for a moment Howland's eyes left the
+Frenchman's terrified face as he turned his head to listen.
+
+"They are coming!" exclaimed Croisset. "M'seur, I swear to--"
+
+Again Howland's pistol covered his heart.
+
+"Then it is even more necessary that I kill you," he said with frightful
+calmness. "I warned you that I would kill you if you led me into a trap,
+Croisset. The dogs are bushed. There is no way out of this but to
+fight--if there are people coming down the trail. Listen to that!"
+
+This time, from still nearer, came the shout of a man, and then of
+another, followed by the huskies' sharp yelping as they started afresh
+on the trail. The flush of excitement that had come into Howland's face
+paled until he stood as white as the Frenchman. But it was not the
+whiteness of fear. His eyes were like blue steel flashing in
+the sunlight.
+
+"There is nothing to do but fight," he repeated, even more calmly than
+before. "If we were a mile or two back there it could all happen as I
+planned it. But here--"
+
+"They will hear the shots," cried Jean. "The post is no more than a
+gunshot beyond the forest, and there are plenty there who would come out
+to see what it means. Quick, M'seur--follow me. Possibly they are
+hunters going out to the trap-lines. If it comes to the worst--"
+
+"What then?" demanded Howland.
+
+"You can shoot me a little later," temporized the Frenchman with a show
+of his old coolness. "_Mon Dieu_, I am afraid of that gun, M'seur. I
+will get you out of this if I can. Will you give me the chance--or will
+you shoot?"
+
+"I will shoot--if you fail," replied the engineer.
+
+Barely were the words out of his mouth when Croisset sprang to the head
+of the dogs, seized the leader by his neck-trace and half dragged the
+team and sledge through the thick bush that edged the trail. A dozen
+paces farther on the dense scrub opened into the clearer run of the
+low-hanging banskian through which Jean started at a slow trot, with
+Howland a yard behind him, and the huskies following with human-like
+cleverness in the sinuous twistings of the trail which the Frenchman
+marked out for them. They had progressed not more than three hundred
+yards when there came to them for a third time the hallooing of a voice.
+With a sharp "hup, hup," and a low crack of his whip Jean stopped
+the dogs.
+
+"The Virgin be praised, but that is luck!" he exclaimed. "They have
+turned off into another trail to the east, M'seur. If they had come on
+to that break in the bush where we dragged the sledge through--" He
+shrugged his shoulders with a gasp of relief. "_Sacre_, they would not
+be fools enough to pass it without wondering!"
+
+Howland had broken the breech of his revolver and was replacing the
+three empty cartridges with fresh ones.
+
+"There will be no mistake next time," he said, holding out the weapon.
+"You were as near your death a few moments ago as ever before in your
+life, Croisset--and now for a little plain understanding between us.
+Until we stopped out there I had some faith in you. Now I have none. I
+regard you as my worst enemy, and though you are deuced near to your
+friends I tell you that you were never in a tighter box in your life. If
+I fail in my mission here, you shall die. If others come along that
+trail before dark, and run us down, I will kill you. Unless you make it
+possible for me to see and talk with Meleese I will kill you. Your life
+hangs on my success; with my failure your death is as certain as the
+coming of night. I am going to put a bullet through you at the slightest
+suspicion of treachery. Under the circumstances what do you propose
+to do?"
+
+"I am glad that you changed your mind, M'seur, and I will not tempt you
+again. I will do the best that I can," said Jean. Through a narrow break
+in the tops of the banskian pines a few feathery flakes of snow were
+falling, and Jean lifted his eyes to the slit of gray sky above them.
+"Within an hour it will be snowing heavily," he affirmed. "If they do
+not run across our trail by that time, M'seur, we shall be safe."
+
+He led the way through the forest again, more slowly and with greater
+caution than before, and whenever he looked over his shoulder he caught
+the dull gleam of Howland's revolver as it pointed at the hollow of
+his back.
+
+"The devil, but you make me uncomfortable," he protested. "The hammer is
+up, too, M'seur!"
+
+"Yes, it is up," said Howland grimly. "And it never leaves your back,
+Croisset. If the gun should go off accidentally it would bore a hole
+clean through you."
+
+Half an hour later the Frenchman halted where the banskians climbed the
+side of a sloping ridge.
+
+"If you could trust me I would ask to go on ahead," whispered Jean.
+"This ridge shuts in the plain, M'seur, and just over the top of it is
+an old cabin which has been abandoned for many years. There is not one
+chance in a thousand of there being any one there, though it is a good
+fox ridge at this season. From it you may see the light in Meleese's
+window at night."
+
+He did not stop to watch the effect of his last words, but began picking
+his way up the ridge with the dogs tugging at his heels. At the top he
+swung sharply between two huge masses of snow-covered rock, and in the
+lee of the largest of these, almost entirely sheltered from the drifts
+piled up by easterly winds, they came suddenly on a small log hut. About
+it there were no signs of life. With unusual eagerness Jean scanned the
+surface of the snow, and when he saw that there was trail of neither man
+nor beast in the unbroken crust a look of relief came into his face.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, so far I have saved my hide," he grinned. "Now, M'seur,
+look for yourself and see if Jean Croisset has not kept his word!"
+
+A dozen steps had taken him through a screen of shrub to the opposite
+slope of the ridge. With outstretched arm he pointed down into the
+plain, and as Howland's eyes followed its direction he stood throbbing
+with sudden excitement. Less than a quarter of a mile away, sheltered in
+a dip of the plain, were three or four log buildings rising black and
+desolate out of the white waste. One of these buildings was a large
+structure similar to that in which Howland had been imprisoned, and as
+he looked a team and sledge appeared from behind one of the cabins and
+halted close to the wall of the large building. The driver was plainly
+visible, and to Howland's astonishment he suddenly began to ascend the
+side of this wall. For the moment Howland had not thought of a stair.
+
+Jean's attitude drew his eyes. The Frenchman had thrust himself half out
+of the screening bushes and was staring through the telescope of his
+hands. With an exclamation he turned quickly to the engineer.
+
+"Look, M'seur! Do you see that man climbing the stair? I don't mind
+telling you that he is the one who hit you over the head on the trail,
+and also one of those who shut you up in the coyote. Those are his
+quarters at the post, and possibly he is going up to see Meleese. If you
+were much of a shot you could settle a score or two from here, M'seur."
+
+The figure had stopped, evidently on a platform midway up the side of
+the building. He stood for a moment as if scanning the plain between him
+and the mountain, then disappeared. Howland had not spoken a word, but
+every nerve in his body tingled strangely.
+
+"You say Meleese--is there?" he questioned hesitatingly. "And he--who is
+that man, Croisset?"
+
+Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning
+leisurely toward the old cabin.
+
+"_Non_, M'seur, I will not tell you that," he protested. "I have brought
+you to this place. I have pointed out to you the stair that leads to the
+room where you will find Meleese. You may cut me into ribbons for the
+ravens, but I will tell you no more!"
+
+Again the threatening fire leaped into Howland's eyes.
+
+"I will trouble you to put your hands behind your back, Croisset," he
+commanded. "I am going to return a certain compliment of yours by tying
+your hands with this piece of babeesh, which you used on me.
+After that--"
+
+"And after that, M'seur--" urged Jean, with a touch of the old taunt in
+his voice, and stopping with his back to the engineer and his hands
+behind him. "After that?"
+
+"You will tell me all that I want to know," finished Howland, tightening
+the thong about his wrists.
+
+He led the way then to the cabin. The door was closed, but opened
+readily as he put his weight against it. The single room was lighted by
+a window through which a mass of snow had drifted, and contained nothing
+more than a rude table built against one of the log walls, three supply
+boxes that had evidently been employed as stools, and a cracked and
+rust-eaten sheet-iron stove that had from all appearances long passed
+into disuse. He motioned the Frenchman to a seat at one end of the
+table. Without a word he then went outside, securely toggled the leading
+dog, and returning, closed the door and seated himself at the end of the
+table opposite Jean.
+
+The light from the open window fell full on Croisset's dark face and
+shone in a silvery streak along the top of Howland's revolver as the
+muzzle of it rested casually on a line with the other's breast. There
+was a menacing click as the engineer drew back the hammer.
+
+"Now, my dear Jean, we're ready to begin the real game," he explained.
+"Here we are, high and dry, and down there--just far enough away to be
+out of hearing of this revolver when I shoot--are those we're going to
+play against. So far I've been completely in the dark. I know of no
+reason why I shouldn't go down there openly and be welcomed and given a
+good supper. And yet at the same time I know that my life wouldn't be
+worth a tinker's damn if I _did_ go down. You can clear up the whole
+business, and that's what you're going to do. When I understand why I am
+scheduled to be murdered on sight I won't be handicapped as I now am. So
+go ahead and spiel. If you don't, I'll blow your head off."
+
+Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and
+defiant.
+
+"You may shoot, M'seur," he said quietly. "I have sworn on a cross of
+the Virgin to tell you no more than I have. You could not torture me
+into revealing what you ask."
+
+Slowly Howland raised his revolver.
+
+"Once more, Croisset--will you tell me?"
+
+"_Non_, M'seur--"
+
+A deafening explosion filled the little cabin. From the lobe of Jean's
+ear there ran a red trickle of blood. His face had gone deathly pale.
+But even as the bullet had stung him within an inch of his brain he had
+not flinched.
+
+"Will you tell me, Croisset?"
+
+This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely
+between the Frenchman's eyes.
+
+"_Non_, M'seur."
+
+The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel. With a cry Howland
+slowly lowered his weapon.
+
+"Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!" he cried. "I'd sooner
+kill a dozen men that I know than you!"
+
+He rose to his feet and went to the door. There was still but little
+snow in the air. To the north the horizon was growing black with the
+early approach of the northern night. With a nervous laugh he
+returned to Jean.
+
+"Deuce take it if I don't feel like apologizing to you," he exclaimed.
+"Does your ear hurt?"
+
+"No more than if I had scratched it with a thorn," returned Jean
+politely. "You are good with the pistol, M'seur."
+
+"I would not profit by killing you--just now," mused Howland, seating
+himself again on the box and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as
+he looked across at the other. "But that's a pretty good intimation that
+I'm desperate and mean business, Croisset. We won't quarrel about the
+things I've asked you. What I'm here for is to see Meleese. Now--how is
+that to happen?"
+
+"For the life of me I don't know," replied Jean, as calmly as though a
+bullet had not nipped the edge of his ear a moment before. "There is
+only one way I can see, M'seur, and that is to wait and watch from this
+mountain top until Meleese drives out her dogs. She has her own team,
+and in ordinary seasons frequently goes out alone or with one of the
+women at the post. _Mon Dieu_, she has had enough sledge-riding of late,
+and I doubt if she will find pleasure in her dogs for a long time."
+
+"I had planned to use you," said Howland, "but I've lost faith in you.
+Honestly, Croisset, I believe you would stick me in the back almost as
+quickly as those murderers down there." "Not in the back, M'seur,"
+smiled the Frenchman, unmoved. "I have had opportunities to do that.
+_Non_, since that fight back there I do not believe that I want to
+kill you."
+
+"But I would be a fool to trust you. Isn't that so?"
+
+"Not if I gave you my word. That is something we do not break up here as
+you do down among the Wekusko people, and farther south."
+
+"But you murder people for pastime--eh, my dear Jean?"
+
+Croisset shrugged his shoulders without speaking.
+
+"See here, Croisset," said Howland with sudden earnestness, "I'm almost
+tempted to take a chance with you. Will you go down to the post
+to-night, in some way gain access to Meleese, and give her a
+message from me?"
+
+"And the message--what would it be?"
+
+"It would bring Meleese up to this cabin--to-night."
+
+"Are you sure, M'seur?"
+
+"I am certain that it would. Will you go?"
+
+"_Non_, M'seur."
+
+"The devil take you!" cried Howland angrily. "If I was not certain that
+I would need you later I'd garrote you where you sit."
+
+He rose and went to the old stove. It was still capable of holding fire,
+and as it had grown too dark outside for the smoke to be observed from
+the post, he proceeded to prepare a supper of hot coffee and meat. Jean
+watched him in silence, and not until food and drink were on the table
+did the engineer himself break silence.
+
+"Of course, I'm not going to feed you," he said curtly, "so I'll have to
+free your hands. But be careful."
+
+He placed his revolver on the table beside him after he had freed
+Croisset.
+
+"I might assassinate you with a fork!" chuckled the Frenchman softly,
+his black eyes laughing over his coffee cup. "I drink your health,
+M'seur, and wish you happiness!"
+
+"You lie!" snapped Howland.
+
+Jean lowered the cup without drinking.
+
+"It's the truth, M'seur," he insisted. "Since that _bee_-utiful fight
+back there I can not help but wish you happiness. I drink also to the
+happiness of Meleese, also to the happiness of those who tried to kill
+you on the trail and at the coyote. But, _Mon Dieu_, how is it all to
+come? Those at the post are happy because they believe that you are
+dead. You will not be happy until they are dead. And Meleese--how will
+all this bring happiness to her? I tell you that I am as deep in trouble
+as you, M'seur Howland. May the Virgin strike me dead if I'm not!"
+
+He drank, his eyes darkening gloomily. In that moment there flashed into
+Howland's mind a memory of the battle that Jean had fought for him on
+the Great North Trail.
+
+"You nearly killed one of them--that night--at Prince Albert," he said
+slowly. "I can't understand why you fought for me then and won't help me
+now. But you did. And you're afraid to go down there--"
+
+"Until I have regrown a beard," interrupted Jean with a low chuckling
+laugh. "You would not be the only one to die if they saw me again like
+this. But that is enough, M'seur. I will say no more."
+
+"I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jean," Howland
+apologized, as he secured the Frenchman's hands again after they had
+satisfied their hearty appetites, "but unless you swear by your Virgin
+or something else that you will make no attempt to call assistance I
+shall have to gag you. What do you say?"
+
+"I will make no outcry, M'seur. I give you my word for that."
+
+With another length of babeesh Howland tied his companion's legs.
+
+"I'm going to investigate a little," he explained. "I am not afraid of
+your voice, for if you begin to shout I will hear you first. But with
+your legs free you might take it into your head to run away."
+
+"Would you mind spreading a blanket on the floor, M'seur? If you are
+gone long this box will grow hard and sharp."
+
+A few minutes later, after he had made his prisoner as comfortable as
+possible in the cabin, Howland went again through the fringe of scrub
+bush to the edge of the ridge. Below him the plain was lost in the gloom
+of night. He could see nothing of the buildings at the post but two or
+three lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. Overhead there were
+no stars; thickening snow shut out what illumination there might have
+been in the north, and even as he stood looking into the desolation to
+the west the snow fell faster and the lights grew fainter and fainter
+until all was a chaos of blackness.
+
+In these moments a desire that was almost madness swept over him. Since
+his fight with Jean the swift passing of events had confined his
+thoughts to their one objective--the finding of Meleese and her people.
+He had assured himself that his every move was to be a cool and
+calculating one, that nothing--not even his great love--should urge him
+beyond that reason which had made him a master-builder among men. As he
+stood with the snow falling heavily on him he knew that his trail would
+be covered before another day--that for an indefinite period he might
+safely wait and watch for Meleese on the mountain top. And yet, slowly,
+he made his way down the side of the ridge. A little way out there in
+the gloom, barely beyond the call of his voice, was the girl for whom he
+was willing to sacrifice all that he had ever achieved in life. With
+each step the desire in him grew--the impulse to bring himself nearer to
+her, to steal across the plain, to approach in the silent smother of the
+storm until he could look on the light which Jean Croisset had told him
+would gleam from her window.
+
+He descended to the foot of the ridge and headed into the plain, taking
+the caution to bury his feet deep in the snow that he might have a trail
+to guide him back to the cabin. At first he found himself impeded by low
+bush. Then the plain became more open, and he knew that there was
+nothing but the night and the snow to shut out his vision ahead. Still
+he had no motive, no reason for what he did. The snow would cover his
+tracks before morning. There would be no harm done, and he might get a
+glimpse of the light, of _her_ light.
+
+It came on his vision with a suddenness that set his heart leaping. A
+dog barked ahead of him, so near that he stopped in his tracks, and then
+suddenly there shot through the snow-gloom the bright gleam of a lamp.
+Before he had taken another breath he was aware of what had happened. A
+curtain had been drawn aside in the chaos ahead. He was almost on the
+walls of the post--and the light gleamed from high, up, from the head of
+the stair!
+
+For a space he stood still, listening and watching. There was no other
+light, no other sound after the barking of the dog. About him the snow
+fell with fluttering noiselessness and it filled him with a sensation of
+safety. The sharpest eyes could not see him, the keenest ears could not
+hear him--and he advanced again until before him there rose out of the
+gloom a huge shadowy mass that was blacker than the night itself. The
+one lighted window was plainly visible now, its curtain two-thirds
+drawn, and as he looked a shadow passed over it. Was it a woman's
+shadow? The window darkened as the figure within came nearer to it, and
+Howland stood with clenched hands and wildly beating heart, almost ready
+to call out softly a name. A little nearer--one more step--and he would
+know. He might throw a chunk of snow-crust, a cartridge from his
+belt--and then--
+
+The shadow disappeared. Dimly Howland made out the snow-covered stair,
+and he went to it and looked up. Ten feet above him the light shone out.
+
+He looked into the gloom behind him, into the gloom out of which he had
+come. Nothing--nothing but the storm. Swiftly he mounted the stair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+IN THE BEDROOM CHAMBER
+
+Flattening himself closely against the black logs of the wall Howland
+paused on the platform at the top of the stair. His groping hand touched
+the jam of a door and he held his breath when his fingers incautiously
+rattled the steel of a latch. In another moment he passed on, three
+paces---four--along the platform, at last sinking on his knees in the
+snow, close under the window, his eyes searched the lighted room an inch
+at a time. He saw a section of wall at first, dimly illuminated; then a
+small table near the window covered with books and magazines, and beside
+it a reclining chair buried thick under a great white bear robe. On the
+table, but beyond his vision, was the lamp. He drew himself a few inches
+more through the snow, leaning still farther ahead, until he saw the
+foot of a white bed. A little more and he stopped, his white face close
+to the window-pane.
+
+On the bed, facing him, sat Meleese. Her chin was buried in the cup of
+her hands, and he noticed that she was in a dressing-gown and that her
+beautiful hair was loosed and flowing in glistening waves about her, as
+though she had just brushed it for the night. A movement, a slight
+shifting of her eyes, and she would have seen him.
+
+He was filled with an almost mastering impulse to press his face closer,
+to tap on the window, to draw her eyes to him, but even as his hand rose
+to do the bidding of that impulse something restrained him. Slowly the
+girl lifted her head, and he was thrilled to find that another impulse
+drew him back until his ghostly face was a part of the elusive
+snow-gloom. He watched her as she turned from him and threw back the
+glory of her hair until it half hid her in a mass of copper and gold;
+from his distance he still gazed at her, choking and undecided, while
+she gathered it in three heavy strands and plaited it into a
+shining braid.
+
+For an instant his eyes wandered. Beyond her presence the room was
+empty. He saw a door, and observed that it opened into another room,
+which in turn could be entered through the platform door behind him.
+With his old exactness for detail he leaped to definite conclusion.
+These were Meleese's apartments at the post, separated from all
+others--and Meleese was preparing to retire for the night. If the outer
+door was not locked, and he entered, what danger could there be of
+interruption? It was late. The post was asleep. He had seen no light but
+that in the window through which he was staring.
+
+The thought was scarcely born before he was at the platform door. The
+latch clicked gently under his fingers; cautiously he pushed the door
+inward and thrust in his head and shoulders. The air inside was cold and
+frosty. He reached out an arm to the right and his hand encountered the
+rough-hewn surface of a wall; he advanced a step and reached out to the
+left. There, too, his hand touched a wall. He was in a narrow: corridor.
+Ahead of him there shone a thin ray of light from under the door that
+opened into Meleese's room. Nerving himself for the last move, he went
+boldly to the door, knocked lightly to give some warning of his
+presence, and entered. Meleese was gone. He closed the door behind him,
+scarce believing his eyes. Then at the far end of the room he saw a
+curtain, undulating slightly as if from the movement of a person on the
+other side of it.
+
+"Meleese!" he called softly.
+
+White and dripping with snow, his face bloodless in the tense excitement
+of the moment, he stood with his arms half reaching out when the curtain
+was thrust aside and the girl stood before him. At first she did not
+recognize him in his ghostly storm-covered disguise. But before the
+startled cry that was on her lips found utterance the fear that had
+blanched her face gave place to a swift sweeping flood of color. For a
+space there was no word between them as they stood separated by the
+breadth of the room, Howland with his arms held out to her in pleading
+silence, Meleese with her hands clutched to her bosom, her throat
+atremble with strange sobbing notes that made no more sound than the
+fluttering of a bird's wing.
+
+And Howland, as he came across the room to her, found no words to
+say--none of the things that he had meant to whisper to her, but drew
+her to him and crushed her close to his breast, knowing that in this
+moment nothing could tell her more eloquently than the throbbing of his
+own heart, the passionate pressure of his face to her face, of his great
+love which seemed to stir into life the very silence that
+encompassed them.
+
+It was a silence broken after a moment by a short choking cry, the
+quick-breathing terror of a face turned suddenly up to him robbed of its
+flush and quivering with a fear that still found no voice in words. He
+felt the girl's arms straining against him for freedom; her eyes were
+filled with a staring, questioning horror, as though his presence had
+grown into a thing of which she was afraid. The change was tonic to him.
+This was what he had expected---the first terror at his presence, the
+struggle against his will, and there surged back over him the forces he
+had reserved for this moment. He opened his arms and Meleese slipped
+from them, her hands clutched again in the clinging drapery of
+her bosom.
+
+"I have come for you, Meleese," he said as calmly as though his arrival
+had been expected. "Jean is my prisoner. I forced him to drive me to the
+old cabin up on the mountain, and he is waiting there with the dogs. We
+will start back to-night--_now_." Suddenly he sprang to her again, his
+voice breaking in a low pleading cry. "My God, don't you see now how I
+love you?" he went on, taking her white face between his two hands.
+"Don't you understand, Meleese? Jean and I have fought--he is bound hand
+and foot up there in the cabin--and I am waiting for you--for you--" He
+pressed her face against him, her lips so close that he could feel
+their quavering breath. "I have come to fight for you--if you won't go,"
+he whispered tensely. "I don't know why your people have tried to kill
+me, I don't know why they want to kill me, and it makes no difference to
+me now. I want you. I've wanted you since that first glimpse of your
+face through the window, since the fight on the trail--every minute,
+every hour, and I won't give you up as long as I'm alive. If you won't
+go with me--if you won't go now--to-night--" He held her closer, his
+voice trembling in her hair. "If you won't go--I'm going to stay
+with you!"
+
+There was a thrillingly decisive note in his last words, a note that
+carried with it more than all he had said before, and as Meleese partly
+drew away from him again she gave a sharp cry of protest.
+
+"No--no--no--" she panted, her hands clutching at his arm. "You must go
+back now--now--" She pushed him toward the door, and as he backed a
+step, looking down into her face, he saw the choking tremble of her
+white throat, heard again the fluttering terror in her breath. "They
+will kill you if they find you here," she urged. "They think you are
+dead--that you fell through the ice and were drowned. If you don't
+believe me, if you don't believe that I can never go with you,
+tell Jean--"
+
+Her words seemed to choke her as she struggled to finish.
+
+"Tell Jean what?" he questioned softly.
+
+"Will you go--then?" she cried with sobbing eagerness, as if
+he already understood her. "Will you go back if Jean tells you
+everything--everything about me--about--"
+
+"No," he interrupted.
+
+"If you only knew--then you would go back, and never see me again. You
+would understand--"
+
+"I will never understand," He interrupted again. "I say that it is you
+who do not understand, Meleese! I don't care what Jean would tell me.
+Nothing that has ever happened can make me not want you. Don't you
+understand? Nothing, I say--nothing that has happened--that can ever
+happen--unless--"
+
+For a moment he stopped, looking straight into her eyes.
+
+"Nothing--nothing in the world, Meleese," he repeated almost in a
+whisper, "unless you did not tell me the truth back on the trail at
+Wekusko when you said that it was not a sin to love you."
+
+"And if I tell you--if I confess that it is a sin, that I lied back
+there--then will you go?" she demanded quickly.
+
+Her eyes flamed on him with a strange light.
+
+"No," he said calmly. "I would not believe you."
+
+"But it is the truth. I lied--lied terribly to you. I have sinned even
+more terribly, and--and you must go. Don't you understand me now? If
+some one should come--and find you here--"
+
+"There would be a fight," he said grimly. "I have come prepared to
+fight." He waited a moment, and in the silence the brown head in front
+of him dropped slowly and he saw a tremor pass through the slender form,
+as if it had been torn by an instant's pain. The pallor had gone from
+Howland's face. The mute surrender in the bowed head, the soft sobbing
+notes that he heard now in the girl's breath, the confession that he
+read in her voiceless grief set his heart leaping, and again he drew her
+close into his arms and turned her face up to his own. There was no
+resistance now, no words, no pleading for him to go; but in her eyes he
+saw the prayerful entreaty with which she had come to him on the Wekusko
+trail, and in the quivering red mouth the same torture and love and
+half-surrender that had burned themselves into his soul there. Love,
+triumph, undying faith shone in his eyes, and he crushed her face closer
+until the lovely mouth lay pouted like a crimson rose for him to kiss.
+
+"You--you told me something that wasn't true--once--back there," he
+whispered, "and you promised that you wouldn't do it again. You haven't
+sinned--in the way that I mean, and in the way that you want me to
+believe." His arms tightened still more about her, and his voice was
+suddenly filled with a tense quick eagerness. "Why don't you tell me
+everything?" he asked. "You believe that if I knew certain things I
+would never want to see you again, that I would go back into the South.
+You have told me that. Then--if you want me to go--why don't you reveal
+these things to me? If you can't do that, go with me to-night. We will
+go anywhere--to the ends of the earth--"
+
+He stopped at the look that had come into her face. Her eyes were turned
+to the window. He saw them filled with a strange terror, and
+involuntarily his own followed them to where the storm was beating
+softly against the window-pane. Close to the lighted glass was pressed a
+man's face. He caught a flashing glimpse of a pair of eyes staring in
+at them, of a thick, wild beard whitened by the snow. He knew the face.
+When life seemed slipping out of his throat he had looked up into it
+that night of the ambush on the Great North Trail. There was the same
+hatred, the same demoniac fierceness in it now.
+
+With a quick movement Howland sprang away from the girl and leveled his
+revolver to where the face had been. Over the shining barrel he saw only
+the taunting emptiness of the storm. Scarcely had the face disappeared
+when there came the loud shout of a man, the hoarse calling of a name,
+and then of another, and after that the quick, furious opening of the
+outer door.
+
+Howland whirled, his weapon pointing to the only entrance. The girl was
+ahead of him and with a warning cry he swung the muzzle of his gun
+upward. In a moment she had pushed the bolt that locked the room from
+the inside, and had leaped back to him, her face white, her breath
+breaking in fear. She spoke no word, but with a moan of terror caught
+him by the arm and pulled him past the light and beyond the thick
+curtain that had hidden her when he had entered the room a few minutes
+before. They were in a second room, palely lighted by a mass of coals
+gleaming through the open door of a box stove, and with a second window
+looking out into the thick night. Fiercely she dragged him to this
+window, her fingers biting deep into the flesh of his arm.
+
+"You must go--through this!" she cried chokingly. "Quick! O, my God,
+won't you hurry? Won't you go?"
+
+Howland had stopped. From the blackness of the corridor there came the
+beat of heavy fists on the door and the rage of a thundering voice
+demanding admittance. From out in the night it was answered by the sharp
+barking of a dog and the shout of a second voice.
+
+"Why should I go?" he asked. "I told you a few moments ago that I had
+come prepared to fight, Meleese. I shall stay--and fight!"
+
+"Please--please go!" she sobbed, striving to pull him nearer to the
+window. "You can get away in the storm. The snow will cover your trail.
+If you stay they will kill you--kill you--"
+
+"I prefer to fight and be killed rather than to run away without you,"
+he interrupted. "If you will go--"
+
+She crushed herself against his breast.
+
+"I can't go--now--this way--" she urged. "But I will come to you. I
+promise that--I will come to you." For an instant her hands clasped his
+face. "Will you go--if I promise you that?"
+
+"You swear that you will follow me--that you will come down to the
+Wekusko? My God, are you telling me the truth, Meleese?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I will come to you--if you go now." She broke from him and he
+heard her fumbling at the window. "I will come--I will come--but not to
+Wekusko. They will follow you there. Go back to Prince Albert--to the
+hotel where I looked at you through the window. I will come
+there--sometime--as soon as I can--"
+
+A blast of cold air swept into his face. He had thrust his revolver
+into its holster and now again for an instant he held Meleese close
+in his arms.
+
+"You will be my wife?" he whispered.
+
+He felt her throbbing against him. Suddenly her arms tightened around
+his neck.
+
+"Yes, if you want me then--if you want me after you know what I am. Now,
+go--please, please go!"
+
+He pulled himself through the window, hanging for a last moment to the
+ledge.
+
+"If you fail to come--within a month--I shall return," he said.
+
+Her hands were at his face again. Once more, as on the trail at Le Pas,
+he felt the sweet pressure of her lips.
+
+"I will come," she whispered.
+
+Her hands thrust him back and he was forced to drop to the snow below.
+Scarcely had his feet touched when there sounded the fierce yelp of a
+dog close to him, and as he darted away into the smother of the storm
+the brute followed at his heels, barking excitedly in the manner of the
+mongrel curs that had found their way up from the South. Between the
+dog's alarm and the loud outcry of men there was barely time in which to
+draw a breath. From the stair platform came a rapid fusillade of rifle
+shots that sang through the air above Howland's head, and mingled with
+the fire was a hoarse voice urging on the cur that followed within a
+leap of his heels.
+
+The presence of the dog filled the engineer with a fear that he had not
+anticipated. Not for an instant did the brute give slack to his tongue
+as they raced through the night, and Howland knew now that the storm and
+the darkness were of little avail in his race for life. There was but
+one chance, and he determined to take it. Gradually he slackened his
+pace, drawing and cocking his revolver; then he turned suddenly to
+confront the yelping Nemesis behind him. Three times he fired in quick
+succession at a moving blot in the snow-gloom, and there went up from
+that blot a wailing cry that he knew was caused by the deep bite
+of lead.
+
+Again he plunged on, a muffled shout of defiance on his lips. Never had
+the fire of battle raged in his veins as now. Back in the window,
+listening in terror, praying for him, was Meleese. The knowledge that
+she was there, that at last he had won her and was fighting for her,
+stirred him with a joy that was next to madness. Nothing could stop him
+now. He loaded his revolver as he ran, slackening his pace as he covered
+greater distance, for he knew that in the storm his trail could be
+followed scarcely faster than a walk.
+
+He gave no thought to Jean Croisset, bound hand and foot in the little
+cabin on the mountain. Even as he had clung to the window for that last
+moment it had occurred to him that it would be folly to return to the
+Frenchman. Meleese had promised to come to him, and he believed her, and
+for that reason Jean was no longer of use to him. Alone he would lose
+himself in that wilderness, alone work his way into the South, trusting
+to his revolver for food, and to his compass and the matches in his
+pocket for life. There would be no sledge-trail for his enemies to
+follow, no treachery to fear. It would take a thousand men to find him
+after the night's storm had covered up his retreat, and if one should
+find him they two would be alone to fight it out.
+
+For a moment he stopped to listen and stare futilely into the blackness
+behind him. When he turned to go on his heart stood still. A shadow had
+loomed out of the night half a dozen paces ahead of him, and before he
+could raise his revolver the shadow was lightened by a sharp flash of
+fire. Howland staggered back, his fingers loosening their grip on his
+pistol, and as he crumpled down into the snow he heard over him the
+hoarse voice that had urged on the dog. After that there was a space of
+silence, of black chaos in which he neither reasoned nor lived, and when
+there came to him faintly the sound of other voices. Finally all of
+them were lost in one--a moaning, sobbing voice that was calling his
+name again and again, a voice that seemed to reach to him from out of an
+infinity of distance, and that he knew was the voice of Meleese. He
+strove to speak, to lift his arms, but his tongue was as lead, his arms
+as though fettered with steel bands.
+
+The voice died away. He lived through a cycle of speechless, painless
+night into which finally a gleam of dawn returned. He felt as if years
+were passing in his efforts to move, to lift himself out of chaos. But
+at last he won. His eyes opened, he raised himself. His first sensation
+was that he was no longer in the snow and that the storm was not beating
+into his face. Instead there encompassed him a damp dungeon-like chill.
+Everywhere there was blackness--everywhere except in one spot, where a
+little yellow eye of fire watched him and blinked at him. At first he
+thought that the eye must be miles and miles away. But it came quickly
+nearer--and still nearer--until at last he knew that it was a candle
+burning with the silence of a death taper a yard or two beyond his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+JEAN'S STORY
+
+It was the candle-light that dragged Howland quickly back into
+consciousness and pain. He knew that he was no longer in the snow. His
+fingers dug into damp earth as he made an effort to raise himself, and
+with that effort it seemed as though a red-hot knife had cleft him from
+the top of his skull to his chest. The agony of that instant's pain drew
+a sharp cry from him and he clutched both hands to his head, waiting and
+fearing. It did not come again and he sat up. A hundred candles danced
+and blinked before him like so many taunting eyes and turned him dizzy
+with a sickening nausea. One by one the lights faded away after that
+until there was left only the steady glow of the real candle.
+
+The fingers of Howland's right hand were sticky when he drew them away
+from his head, and he shivered. The tongue of flame leaping out of the
+night, the thunderous report, the deluge of fire that had filled his
+brain, all bore their meaning for him now. It had been a close call, so
+close that shivering chills ran up and down his spine as he struggled
+little by little to lift himself to his knees. His enemy's shot had
+grazed his head. A quarter of an inch more, an eighth of an inch even,
+and there would have been no awakening. He closed his eyes for a few
+moments, and when he opened them his vision had gained distance. About
+him he made out indistinctly the black encompassing walls of his prison.
+
+It seemed an interminable time before he could rise and stand on his
+feet and reach the candle. Slowly he felt his way along the wall until
+he came to a low, heavy door, barred from the outside, and just beyond
+this door he found a narrow aperture cut through the decaying logs. It
+was a yard in length and barely wide enough for him to thrust through an
+arm. Three more of these narrow slits in his prison walls he found
+before he came back again to the door. They reminded him of the hole
+through which he had looked out on the plague-stricken cabin at the
+_Maison de Mort Rouge_, and he guessed that through them came what
+little fresh air found its way into the dungeon.
+
+Near the table on which he replaced the candle was a stool, and he sat
+down. Carefully he went through his pockets. His belt and revolver were
+gone. He had been stripped of letters and papers. Not so much as a match
+had been left him by his captors.
+
+He stopped in his search and listened. Faintly there came to him the
+ticking of his watch. He felt in his watch pocket. It was empty. Again
+he listened. This time he was sure that the sound came from his feet and
+he lowered the candle until the light of it glistened on something
+yellow an arm's distance away. It was his watch, and close beside it lay
+his leather wallet. What money he had carried in the pocketbook was
+untouched, but his personal cards and half a dozen papers that it had
+contained were gone.
+
+He looked at the time. The hour hand pointed to four. Was it possible
+that he had been unconscious for more than six hours? He had left Jean
+on the mountain top soon after nightfall--it was not later than nine
+o'clock when he had seen Meleese. Seven hours! Again he lifted his hands
+to his head. His hair was stiff and matted with blood. It had congealed
+thickly on his cheek and neck and had soaked the top of his coat. He had
+bled a great deal, so much that he wondered he was alive, and yet during
+those hours his captors had given him no assistance, had not even bound
+a cloth about his head.
+
+Did they believe that the shot had killed him, that he was already dead
+when they flung him into the dungeon? Or was this only one other
+instance of the barbaric brutishness of those who so insistently sought
+his life? The fighting blood rose in him with returning strength. If
+they had left him a weapon, even the small knife they had taken from
+his pocket, he would still make an effort to settle a last score or two.
+But now he was helpless.
+
+There was, however, a ray of hope in the possibility that they believed
+him dead. If they who had flung him into the dungeon believed this, then
+he was safe for several hours. No one would come for his body until
+broad day, and possibly not until the following night, when a grave
+could be dug and he could be carried out with some secrecy. In that
+time, if he could escape from his prison, he would be well on his way to
+the Wekusko. He had no doubt that Jean was still a prisoner on the
+mountain top. The dogs and sledge were there and both rifles were where
+he had concealed them. It would be a hard race--a running fight
+perhaps--but he would win, and after a time Meleese would come to him,
+away down at the little hotel on the Saskatchewan.
+
+He rose to his feet, his blood growing warm, his eyes shining in the
+candle-light. The thought of the girl as she had come to him out in the
+night put back into him all of his old fighting strength, all of his
+unconquerable hope and confidence. She had followed him when the dog
+yelped at his heels, as the first shots had been fired; she had knelt
+beside him in the snow as he lay bleeding at the feet of his enemies. He
+had heard her voice calling to him, had felt the thrilling touch of her
+arms, the terror and love of her lips as she thought him dying. She had
+given herself to him; and she would come to him--his lady of the
+snows--if he could escape.
+
+He went to the door and shoved against it with his shoulder. It was
+immovable. Again he thrust his hand and arm through the first of the
+narrow ventilating apertures. The wood with which his fingers came in
+contact was rotting from moisture and age and he found that he could
+tear out handfuls of it. He fell to work, digging with the fierce
+eagerness of an animal. At the rate the soft pulpy wood gave way he
+could win his freedom long before the earliest risers at the post
+were awake.
+
+A sound stopped him, a hollow cough from out of the blackness beyond
+the dungeon wall. It was followed an instant later by a gleam of light
+and Howland darted quickly back to the table. He heard the slipping of a
+bolt outside the door and it flashed on him then that he should have
+thrown himself back into his old position on the floor. It was too late
+for this action now. The door swung open and a shaft of light shot into
+the chamber. For a space Howland was blinded by it and it was not until
+the bearer of the lamp had advanced half-way to the table that he
+recognized his visitor as Jean Croisset. The Frenchman's face was wild
+and haggard. His eyes gleamed red and bloodshot as he stared at
+the engineer.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, I had hoped to find you dead," he whispered huskily.
+
+He reached up to hang the big oil lamp he carried to a hook in the log
+ceiling, and Howland sat amazed at the expression on his face. Jean's
+great eyes gleamed like living coals from out of a death-mask. Either
+fear or pain had wrought deep lines in his face. His hands trembled as
+he steadied the lamp. The few hours that had passed since Howland had
+left him a prisoner on the mountain top had transformed him into an old
+man. Even his shoulders were hunched forward with an air of weakness and
+despair as he turned from the lamp to the engineer.
+
+"I had hoped to find you dead, M'seur," he repeated in a voice so low it
+could not have been heard beyond the door. "That is why I did not bind
+your wound and give you water when they turned you over to my care. I
+wanted you to bleed to death. It would have been easier--for both
+of us."
+
+From under the table he drew forth a second stool and sat down opposite
+Howland. The two men stared at each other over the sputtering remnant of
+the candle. Before the engineer had recovered from his astonishment at
+the sudden appearance of the man whom he believed to be safely
+imprisoned in the old cabin, Croisset's shifting eyes fell on the mass
+of torn wood under the aperture.
+
+"Too late, M'seur," he said meaningly. "They are waiting up there now.
+It is impossible for you to escape."
+
+"That is what I thought about you," replied Howland, forcing himself to
+speak coolly. "How did you manage it?"
+
+"They came up to free me soon after they got you, M'seur. I am grateful
+to you for thinking of me, for if you had not told them I might have
+stayed there and starved like a beast in a trap."
+
+"It was Meleese," said Howland. "I told her."
+
+Jean dropped his head in his hands.
+
+"I have just come from Meleese," he whispered softly. "She sends you her
+love, M'seur, and tells you not to give up hope. The great God, if she
+only knew--if she only knew what is about to happen! No one has told
+her. She is a prisoner in her room, and after that--after that out on
+the plain--when she came to you and fought like one gone mad to save
+you--they will not give her freedom until all is over. What time is
+it, M'seur?"
+
+A clammy chill passed over Howland as he read the time.
+
+"Half-past four."
+
+The Frenchman shivered; his fingers clasped and unclasped nervously as
+he leaned nearer his companion.
+
+"The Virgin bear me witness that I wish I might strike ten years off my
+life and give you freedom," he breathed quickly. "I would do it this
+instant, M'seur. I would help you to escape if it were in any way
+possible. But they are in the room at the head of the stair--waiting.
+At six--"
+
+Something seemed to choke him and he stopped.
+
+"At six--what then?" urged Howland. "My God, man, what makes you look
+so? What is to happen at six?"
+
+Jean stiffened. A flash of the old fire gleamed in his eyes, and his
+voice was steady and clear when he spoke again.
+
+"I have no time to lose in further talk like this, M'seur," he said
+almost harshly. "They know now that it was I who fought for you and for
+Meleese on the Great North Trail. They know that it is I who saved you
+at Wekusko. Meleese can no more save me than she can save you, and to
+make my task a little harder they have made me their messenger, and--"
+
+Again he stopped, choking for words.
+
+"What?" insisted Howland, leaning toward him, his face as white as the
+tallow in the little dish on the table.
+
+"Their executioner, M'seur."
+
+With his hands gripped tightly on the table in front of him Jack Howland
+sat as rigid as though an electric shock had passed through him.
+
+"Great God!" he gasped.
+
+"First I am to tell you a story, M'seur," continued Croisset, leveling
+his reddened eyes to the engineer's. "It will not be long, and I pray
+the Virgin to make you understand it as we people of the North
+understand it. It begins sixteen years ago."
+
+"I shall understand, Jean," whispered Howland. "Go on."
+
+"It was at one of the company's posts that it happened," Jean began,
+"and the story has to do with Le M'seur, the Factor, and his wife,
+_L'Ange Blanc_--that is what she was called, M'seur--the White Angel.
+_Mon Dieu_, how we loved her! Not with a wicked love, M'seur, but with
+something very near to that which we give our Blessed Virgin. And our
+love was but a pitiful thing when compared with the love of these two,
+each for the other. She was beautiful, gloriously beautiful as we know
+women up in the big snows; like Meleese, who was the youngest of
+their children.
+
+"Ours was the happiest post in all this great northland, M'seur,"
+continued Croisset after a moment's pause; "and it was all because of
+this woman and the man, but mostly because of the woman. And when the
+little Meleese came--she was the first white girl baby that any of us
+had ever seen--our love for these two became something that I fear was
+almost a sacrilege to our dear Lady of God. Perhaps you can not
+understand such a love, M'seur; I know that it can not be understood
+down in that world which you call civilization, for I have been there
+and have seen. We would have died for the little Meleese, and the other
+Meleese, her mother. And also, M'seur, we would have killed our own
+brothers had they as much as spoken a word against them or cast at the
+mother even as much as a look which was not the purest. That is how we
+loved her sixteen years ago this winter, M'seur, and that is how we love
+her memory still."
+
+"She is dead," uttered Howland, forgetting in these tense moments the
+significance Jean's story might hold for him.
+
+"Yes; she is dead. M'seur, shall I tell you how she died?"
+
+Croisset sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, his lithe body
+twitching like a wolf's as he stood for an instant half leaning over
+the engineer.
+
+"Shall I tell you how she died, M'seur?" he repeated, falling back on
+his stool, his long arms stretched over the table. "It happened like
+this, sixteen years ago, when the little Meleese was four years old and
+the oldest of the three sons was fourteen. That winter a man and his boy
+came up from Churchill. He had letters from the Factor at the Bay, and
+our Factor and his wife opened their doors to him and to his son, and
+gave them all that it was in their power to give.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, this man was from that glorious civilization of yours,
+M'seur--from that land to the south where they say that Christ's temples
+stand on every four corners, but he could not understand the strange God
+and the strange laws of our people! For months he had been away from the
+companionship of women, and in this great wilderness the Factor's wife
+came into his life as the flower blossoms in the desert. Ah, M'seur, I
+can see now how his wicked heart strove to accomplish the things, and
+how he failed because the glory of our womanhood up here has come
+straight down from Heaven. And in failing he went mad--mad with that
+passion of the race I have seen in Montreal, and then--ah, the Great
+God, M'seur, do you not understand what happened next?"
+
+Croisset lifted his head, his face twisted in a torture that was half
+grief, half madness, and stared at Howland, with quivering nostrils and
+heaving chest. In his companion's face he saw only a dead white pallor
+of waiting, of half comprehension. He leaned over the table again,
+controlling himself by a mighty effort.
+
+"It was at that time when most of us were out among the trappers, just
+before our big spring caribou roast, when the forest people came in with
+their furs, M'seur. The post was almost deserted. Do you understand? The
+woman was alone in her cabin with the little Meleese--and when we came
+back at night she was dead. Yes, M'seur, she killed herself, leaving a
+few written words to the Factor telling him what had happened.
+
+"The man and the boy escaped on a sledge after the crime. _Mon Dieu_, how
+the forest people leaped in pursuit! Runners carried the word over the
+mountains and through the swamps, and a hundred sledge parties searched
+the forest trails for the man-fiend and his son. It was the Factor
+himself and his youngest boy who found them, far out on the Churchill
+trail. And what happened then, M'seur? Just this: While the man-fiend
+urged on his dogs the son fired back with a rifle, and one of his
+bullets went straight through the heart of the pursuing Factor, so that
+in the space of one day and one night the little Meleese was made both
+motherless and fatherless by these two whom the devil had sent to
+destroy the most beautiful thing we have ever known in this North. Ah,
+M'seur, you turn white! Does it bring a vision to you now? Do you hear
+the crack of that rifle? Can you see--"
+
+"My God!" gasped Howland. Even now he understood nothing of what this
+tragedy might mean to him--forgot everything but that he was listening
+to the terrible tragedy that had come to the woman who was the mother of
+the girl he loved. He half rose from his seat as Croisset paused; his
+eyes glittered, his death-white face was set in tense fierce lines, his
+finger-nails dug into the board table, as he demanded, "What happened
+then, Croisset?"
+
+Jean was eying him like an animal. His voice was low.
+
+"They escaped, M'seur."
+
+With a deep breath Howland sank back. In a moment he leaned again toward
+Jean as he saw come into the Frenchman's eyes a slumbering fire that a
+few seconds later blazed into vengeful malignity when he drew slowly
+from an inside pocket of his coat a small parcel wrapped and tied in
+soft buckskin.
+
+"They have sent you this, M'seur," he said. "'At the very last,' they
+told me, 'let him read this.'"
+
+With his eyes on the parcel, scarcely breathing, Howland waited while
+with exasperating slowness Croisset's brown fingers untied the cord that
+secured it.
+
+"First you must understand what this meant to us in the North, M'seur,"
+said Jean, his hands covering the parcel after he had finished with the
+cord. "We are different who live up here--different from those who live
+in Montreal, and beyond. With us a lifetime is not too long to spend in
+avenging a cruel wrong. It is our honor of the North. I was fifteen
+then, and had been fostered by the Factor and his wife since the day my
+mother died of the smallpox and I dragged myself into the post, almost
+dead of starvation. So it happened that I was like a brother to Meleese
+and the other three. The years passed, and the desire for vengeance grew
+in us as we became older, until it was the one thing that we most
+desired in life, even filling the gentle heart of Meleese, whom we sent
+to school in Montreal when she was eleven, M'seur. It was three years
+later--while she was still in Montreal--that I went on one of my
+wandering searches to a post at the head of the Great Slave, and there,
+M'seur--there--"
+
+Croisset had risen. His long arms were stretched high, his head thrown
+back, his upturned face aflame with a passion that was almost that
+of prayer.
+
+"M'seur, I thank the great God in Heaven that it was given to Jean
+Croisset to meet one of those whom we had pledged our lives to find--and
+I slew him!"
+
+He stood silent, eyes partly closed, still as if in prayer. When he sank
+into his chair again the look of hatred had gone from his face.
+
+"It was the father, and I killed him, M'seur--killed him slowly, telling
+him of what he had done as I choked the life from him; and then, a
+little at a time, I let the life back into him, forcing him to tell me
+where I would find his son, the slayer of Meleese's father. And after
+that I closed on his throat until he was dead, and my dogs dragged his
+body through three hundred miles of snow that the others might look on
+him and know that he was dead. That was six years ago, M'seur."
+
+Howland was scarcely breathing.
+
+"And the other--the son--" he whispered densely. "You found him,
+Croisset? You killed him?"
+
+"What would you have done, M'seur?"
+
+Howland's hands gripped those that guarded the little parcel.
+
+"I would have killed him, Jean."
+
+He spoke slowly, deliberately.
+
+"I would have killed him," he repeated.
+
+"I am glad of that, M'seur."
+
+Jean was unwrapping the buckskin, fold after fold of it, until at last
+there was revealed a roll of paper, soiled and yellow along the edges.
+
+"These pages are taken from the day-book at the post where the woman
+lived," he explained softly, smoothing them under his hands. "Each day
+the Factor of a post keeps a reckoning of incidents as they pass, as I
+have heard that sea captains do on shipboard. It has been a company law
+for hundreds of years. We have kept these pages to ourselves, M'seur.
+They tell of what happened at our post sixteen years ago this winter."
+
+As he spoke the half-breed came to Howland's side, smoothing the first
+page on the table in front of him, his slim forefinger pointing to the
+first few lines.
+
+"They came on this day," he said, his breath close to the engineer's
+ear. "These are their names, M'seur--the names of the two who destroyed
+the paradise that our Blessed Lady gave to us many years ago."
+
+In an instant Howland had read the lines. His blood seemed to dry in his
+veins and his heart to stand still. For these were the words he read:
+"On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John
+Howland and his son."
+
+With a sharp cry he sprang to his feet, overturning the stool, facing
+Croisset, his hands clenched, his body bent as if about to spring. Jean
+stood calmly, his white teeth agleam. Then, slowly, he stretched out
+a hand.
+
+"M'seur John Howland, will you read what happened to the father and
+mother of the little Meleese sixteen years ago? Will you read, and
+understand why your life was sought on the Great North Trail, why you
+were placed on a case of dynamite in the Wekusko coyote, and why, with
+the coming of this morning's dawn--at six--"
+
+He paused, shivering. Howland seemed not to notice the tremendous effort
+Croisset was making to control himself. With the dazed speechlessness of
+one recovering from a sudden blow he turned to the table and bent over
+the papers that the Frenchman had laid out before him. Five minutes
+later he raised his head. His face was as white as chalk. Deep lines had
+settled about his mouth. As a sick man might, he lifted his hand and
+passed it over his face and through his hair. But his eyes were afire.
+Involuntarily Jean's body gathered itself as if to meet attack.
+
+"I have read it," he said huskily, as though the speaking of the words
+caused him a great effort. "I understand now. My name is John Howland.
+And my father's name was John Howland. I understand."
+
+There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.
+
+"I understand," repeated the engineer, advancing a step. "And you, Jean
+Croisset--do you believe that I am _that_ John Howland--the John
+Howland--the son who--"
+
+He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.
+
+"M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
+thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you," replied Jean.
+"Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
+their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
+beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
+are waiting above no torture is too great for you. They have condemned
+you to death. This morning, exactly as the minute hand of your watch
+counts off the hour of six, you will be shot to death through one of
+these holes in the dungeon walls. And this--this note from Meleese--is
+the last thing I have to give you."
+
+He dropped a folded bit of paper on the table. Mechanically Howland
+reached for it. Stunned and speechless, cold with the horror of his
+death sentence, he smoothed out the note. There were only a few words,
+apparently written in great haste.
+
+"I have been praying for you all night. If God fails to answer my
+prayers I will still do as I have promised--and follow you."
+     "Meleese."
+
+He heard a movement and lifted his eyes. Jean was gone. The door was
+swinging slowly inward. He heard the wooden bolt slip into place, and
+after that there was not even the sound of a moccasined foot stealing
+through the outer darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+MELEESE
+
+For many minutes Howland stood waiting as if life had left him. His eyes
+were on the door, but unseeing. He made no sound, no movement again
+toward the aperture in the wall. Fate had dealt him the final blow, and
+when at last he roused himself from its first terrible effect there
+remained no glimmering of hope in his breast, no thought of the battle
+he had been making for freedom a short time before. The note fluttered
+from his fingers and he drew his watch from his pocket and placed it on
+the table. It was a quarter after five. There still remained
+forty-five minutes.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour and then--death. There was no doubt in his
+mind this time. Ever in the coyote, with eternity staring him in the
+face, he had hoped and fought for life. But here there was no hope,
+there was to be no fighting. Through one of the black holes in the wall
+he was to be shot down, with no chance to defend himself, to prove
+himself innocent. And Meleese--did she, too, believe him guilty of
+that crime?
+
+He groaned aloud, and picked up the note again. Softly he repeated her
+last words to him: "If God fails to answer my prayers I will still do as
+I have promised, and follow you." Those words seemed to cry aloud his
+doom. Even Meleese had given up hope. And yet, was there not a deeper
+significance in her words? He started as if some one had struck him, his
+eyes agleam.
+
+"_'I will follow you._'"
+
+He almost sobbed the words this time. His hands trembled and he dropped
+the paper again on the table and turned his eyes in staring horror
+toward the door. What did she mean? Would Meleese kill herself if he was
+murdered by her brothers? He could see no other meaning in her last
+message to him, and for a time after the chilling significance of her
+words struck his heart he scarce restrained himself from calling aloud
+for Jean. If he could but send a word back to her, tell her once more of
+his great love--that the winning of that love was ample reward for all
+that he had lost and was about to lose, and that it gave him such
+happiness as he had never known even in this last hour of his torture!
+
+Twice he shouted for Croisset, but there came no response save the
+hollow echoings of his own voice in the subterranean chambers. After
+that he began to think more sanely. If Meleese was a prisoner in her
+room it was probable that Croisset, who was now fully recognized as a
+traitor at the post, could no longer gain access to her. In some secret
+way Meleese had contrived to give him the note, and he had performed his
+last mission for her.
+
+In Howland's breast there grew slowly a feeling of sympathy for the
+Frenchman. Much that he had not understood was clear to him now. He
+understood why Meleese had not revealed the names of his assailants at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, he understood why she had fled from him
+after his abduction, and why Jean had so faithfully kept secrecy for her
+sake. She had fought to save him from her own flesh and blood, and Jean
+had fought to save him, and in these last minutes of his life he would
+liked to have had Croisset with him that he might have taken has hand
+and thanked him for what he had done. And because he had fought for him
+and Meleese the Frenchman's fate was to be almost as terrible as his
+own. It was he who would fire the fatal shot at six o'clock. Not the
+brothers, but Jean Croisset, would be his executioner and murderer.
+
+The minutes passed swiftly, and as they went Howland was astonished to
+find how coolly he awaited the end. He even began to debate with himself
+as to through which hole the fatal shot would be fired. No matter where
+he stood he was in the light of the big hanging lamp. There was no
+obscure or shadowy corner in which for a few moments he might elude his
+executioner. He even smiled when the thought occurred to him that it
+was possible to extinguish the light and crawl under the table, thus
+gaining a momentary delay. But what would that delay avail him? He was
+anxious for the fatal minute to arrive, and be over.
+
+There were moments of happiness when in the damp horror of his
+death-chamber there came before him visions of Meleese, grown even
+sweeter and more lovable, now that he knew how she had sacrificed
+herself between two great loves--the love of her own people and the love
+of himself. And at last she had surrendered to him. Was it possible that
+she could have made that surrender if she, like her brothers, believed
+him to be the murderer of her father--the son of the man-fiend who had
+robbed her of a mother? It was impossible, he told himself. She did not
+believe him guilty. And yet--why had she not given him some such word in
+her last message to him?
+
+His eyes traveled to the note on the table and he began searching in his
+coat pockets. In one of them he found the worn stub of a pencil, and
+for many minutes after that he was oblivious to the passing of time as
+he wrote his last words to Meleese. When he had finished he folded the
+paper and placed it under his watch. At the final moment, before the
+shot was fired, he would ask Jean to take it. His eyes fell on his watch
+dial and a cry burst from his lips.
+
+It lacked but ten minutes of the final hour!
+
+Above him he heard faintly the sharp barking of dogs, the hollow sound
+of men's voices. A moment later there came to him an echo as of swiftly
+tramping feet, and after that silence.
+
+"Jean," he called tensely. "Ho, Jean--Jean Croisset--"
+
+He caught up the paper and ran from one black opening to another,
+calling the Frenchman's name.
+
+"As you love your God, Jean, as you have a hope of Heaven, take this
+note to Meleese!" he pleaded. "Jean--Jean Croisset--"
+
+There came no answer, no movement outside, and Howland stilled the
+beating of his heart to listen. Surely Croisset was there! He looked
+again at the watch he held in his hand. In four minutes the shot would
+be fired. A cold sweat bathed his face. He tried to cry out again, but
+something rose in his throat and choked him until his voice was only a
+gasp. He sprang back to the table and placed the note once more under
+the watch. Two minutes! One and a half! One!
+
+With a sudden fearless cry he sprang into the very center of his prison,
+and flung out his arms with his face to the hole next the door. This
+time his voice was almost a shout.
+
+"Jean Croisset, there is a note under my watch on the table. After you
+have killed me take it to Meleese. If you fail I shall haunt you to
+your grave!"
+
+Still no sound--no gleam of steel pointing at aim through the black
+aperture. Would the shot come from behind?
+
+Tick--tick--tick--tick--
+
+He counted the beating of his watch up to twenty. A sound stopped him
+then, and he closed his eyes, and a great shiver passed through
+his body.
+
+It was the tiny bell of his watch tinkling off the hour of six!
+
+Scarcely had that sound ceased to ring in his brain when from far
+through the darkness beyond the wall of his prison there came a creaking
+noise, as if a heavy door had been swung slowly on its hinges, or a trap
+opened--then voices, low, quick, excited voices, the hurrying tread of
+feet, a flash of light shooting through the gloom. They were coming!
+After all it was not to be a private affair, and Jean was to do his
+killing as the hangman's job is done in civilization--before a crowd.
+Howland's arms dropped to his side. This was more terrible than the
+other--this seeing and hearing of preparation, in which he fancied that
+he heard the click of Croisset's gun as he lifted the hammer.
+
+Instead it was a hand fumbling at the door. There were no voices now,
+only a strange moaning sound that he could not account for. In another
+moment it was made clear to him. The door swung open, and the
+white-robed figure of Meleese sprang toward him with a cry that echoed
+through the dungeon chambers. What happened then--the passing of white
+faces beyond the doorway, the subdued murmur of voices, were all lost to
+Howland in the knowledge that at the last moment they had let her come
+to him, that he held her in his arms, and that she was crushing her face
+to his breast and sobbing things to him which he could not understand.
+Once or twice in his life he had wondered if realities might not be
+dreams, and the thought came to him now when he felt the warmth of her
+hands, her face, her hair, and then the passionate pressure of her lips
+on his own. He lifted his eyes, and in the doorway he saw Jean Croisset,
+and behind him a wild, bearded face--the face that had been over him
+when life was almost choked from him on the Great North Trail. And
+beyond these two he saw still others, shining ghostly and indistinct in
+the deeper gloom of the outer darkness. He strained Meleese to him, and
+when he looked down into her face he saw her beautiful eyes flooded with
+tears, and yet shining with a great joy. Her lips trembled as she
+struggled to speak. Then suddenly she broke from his arms and ran to the
+door, and Jean Croisset came between them, with the wild bearded man
+still staring over his shoulder.
+
+"M'seur, will you come with us?" said Jean.
+
+The bearded man dropped back into the thick gloom, and without speaking
+Howland followed Croisset, his eyes on the shadowy form of Meleese. The
+ghostly faces turned from the light, and the tread of their retreating
+feet marked the passage through the blackness. Jean fell back beside
+Howland, the huge bulk of the bearded man three paces ahead. A dozen
+steps more and they came to a stair down which a light shone. The
+Frenchman's hand fell detainingly on Howland's arm, and when a moment
+later they reached the top of the stairs all had disappeared but Jean
+and the bearded man. Dawn was breaking, and a pale light fell through
+the two windows of the room they had entered. On a table burned a lamp,
+and near the table were several chairs. To one of these Croisset
+motioned the engineer, and as Howland sat down the bearded man turned
+slowly and passed through a door. Jean shrugged his shoulders as the
+other disappeared.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, that means that he leaves it all to me," he exclaimed. "I
+don't wonder that it is hard for him to talk, M'seur. Perhaps you have
+begun to understand!"
+
+"Yes, a little," replied Howland. His heart was throbbing as if he had
+just finished climbing a long hill. "That was the man who tried to kill
+me. But Meleese--the--" He could go no further. Scarce breathing, he
+waited for Jean to speak.
+
+"It is Pierre Thoreau," he said, "eldest brother to Meleese. It is he
+who should say what I am about to tell you, M'seur. But he is too full
+of grief to speak. You wonder at that? And yet I tell you that a man
+with a better soul than Pierre Thoreau never lived, though three times
+he has tried to kill you. Do you remember what you asked me a short time
+ago, M'seur--if I thought that _you_ were the John Howland who murdered
+the father of Meleese sixteen years ago? God's saints, and I did until
+hardly more than half an hour ago, when some one came from the South and
+exploded a mine under our feet. It was the youngest of the three
+brothers. M'seur we have made a great mistake, and we ask your
+forgiveness."
+
+In the silence the eyes of the two men met across the table. To Howland
+it was not the thought that his life was saved that came with the
+greatest force, but the thought of Meleese, the knowledge that in that
+hour when all seemed to be lost she was nearer to him than ever. He
+leaned half over the table, his hands clenched, his eyes blazing. Jean
+did not understand, for he went on quickly.
+
+"I know it is hard, M'seur. Perhaps it will be impossible for you to
+forgive a thing like this. We have tried to kill you--kill you by a slow
+torture, as we thought you deserved. But think for a moment, M'seur, of
+what happened up here sixteen years ago this winter. I have told you how
+I choked life from the man-fiend. So I would have choked life from you
+if it had not been for Meleese. I, too, am guilty. Only six years ago we
+knew that the right John Howland--the son of the man I slew--was in
+Montreal, and we sent to seek him this youngest brother, for he had been
+a long time at school with Meleese and knew the ways of the South better
+than the others. But he failed to find him at that time, and it was only
+a short while ago that this brother located you.
+
+"As Our Blessed Lady is my witness, M'seur, it is not strange that he
+should have taken you for the man we sought, for it is singular that you
+bear him out like a brother in looks, as I remember the boy. It is true
+that Francois made a great error when he sent word to his brothers
+suggesting that if either Gregson or Thorne was put out of the way you
+would probably be sent into the North. I swear by the Virgin that
+Meleese knew nothing of this, M'seur. She knew nothing of the schemes by
+which her brothers drove Gregson and Thorne back into the South. They
+did not wish to kill them, and yet it was necessary to do something that
+you might replace one of them, M'seur. They did not make a move alone
+but that something happened. Gregson lost a finger. Thorne was badly
+hurt--as you know. Bullets came through their window at night. With
+Jackpine in their employ it was easy to work on them, and it was not
+long before they sent down asking for another man to replace them."
+
+For the first time a surge of anger swept through Howland.
+
+"The cowards!" he exclaimed. "A pretty pair, Croisset--to crawl out from
+under a trap to let another in at the top!"
+
+"Perhaps not so bad as that," said Jean. "They were given to understand
+that they--and they alone--were not wanted in the country. It may be
+that they did not think harm would come to you, and so kept quiet about
+what had happened. It may be, too, that they did not like to have it
+known that they were running away from danger. Is not that human,
+M'seur? Anyway, you were detailed to come, and not until then did
+Meleese know of all that had occurred."
+
+The Frenchman stopped for a moment. The glare had faded from Howland's
+eyes. The tense lines in his face relaxed.
+
+"I--I--believe I understand everything now, Jean," he said. "You traced
+the wrong John Howland, that's all. I love Meleese, Jean. I would kill
+John Howland for her. I want to meet her brothers and shake their hands.
+I don't blame them. They're men. But, somehow, it hurts to think of
+her--of Meleese--as--as almost a murderer."
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, M'seur, has she not saved your life! Listen to this! It
+was then--when she knew what had happened--that Meleese came to me--whom
+she had made the happiest man in the world because it was she who
+brought my Mariane over from Churchill on a visit especially that I
+might see her and fall in love with her, M'seur--which I did. Meleese
+came to me--to Jean Croisset--and instead of planning your murder,
+M'seur, she schemed to save your life--with me--who would have cut you
+into bits no larger than my finger and fed you to the carrion ravens,
+who would have choked the life out of you until your eyes bulged in
+death, as I choked that one up on the Great Slave! Do you understand,
+M'seur? It was Meleese who came and pleaded with me to save your
+life--before you had left Chicago, before she had heard more of you than
+your name, before--"
+
+Croisset hesitated, and stopped.
+
+"Before what, Jean?"
+
+"Before she had learned to love you, M'seur."
+
+"God bless her!" exclaimed Howland.
+
+"You believe this, M'seur?"
+
+"As I believe in a God."
+
+"Then I will tell you what she did, M'seur," he continued in a low
+voice. "The plan of the brothers was to make you a prisoner near Prince
+Albert and bring you north. I knew what was to happen then. It was to be
+a beautiful vengeance, M'seur--a slow torturing death on the spot where
+the crime was committed sixteen years ago. But Meleese knew nothing of
+this. She was made to believe that up here, where the mother and father
+died, you would be given over to the proper law--to the mounted police
+who come this way now and then. She is only a girl, M'seur, easily made
+to believe strange things in such matters as these, else she would have
+wondered why you were not given to the officers in Prince Albert. It was
+the eldest brother who thought of her as a lure to bring you out of the
+town into their hands, and not until the last moment, when they were
+ready to leave for the South, did she overhear words that aroused her
+suspicions that they were about to kill you. It was then, M'seur, that
+she came to me."
+
+"And you, Jean?"
+
+"On the day that Mariane promised to become my wife, M'seur, I promised
+in Our Blessed Lady's name to repay my debt to Meleese, and the manner
+of payment came in this fashion. Jackpine, too, was her slave, and so we
+worked together. Two hours after Meleese and her brothers had left for
+the South I was following them, shaven of beard and so changed that I
+was not recognized in the fight on the Great North Trail. Meleese
+thought that her brothers would make you a prisoner that night without
+harming you. Her brothers told her how to bring you to their camp. She
+knew nothing of the ambush until they leaped on you from cover. Not
+until after the fight, when in their rage at your escape the brothers
+told her that they had intended to kill you, did she realize fully what
+she had done. That is all, M'seur. You know what happened after that.
+She dared not tell you at Wekusko who your enemies were, for those
+enemies were of her own flesh and blood, and dearer to her than life.
+She was between two great loves, M'seur--the love for her
+brothers and--"
+
+Again Jean hesitated.
+
+"And her love for me," finished Howland.
+
+"Yes, her love for you, M'seur."
+
+The two men rose from the table, and for a moment stood with clasped
+hands in the smoky light of lamp and dawn. In that moment neither heard
+a tap at the door leading to the room beyond, nor saw the door move
+gently inward, and Meleese, hesitating, framed in the opening.
+
+It was Howland who spoke first.
+
+"I thank God that all these things have happened, Jean," he said
+earnestly. "I am glad that for a time you took me for that other John
+Howland, and that Pierre Thoreau and his brothers schemed to kill me at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, for if these things had not occurred as they
+have I would never have seen Meleese. And now, Jean--"
+
+His ears caught sound of movement, and he turned in time to see Meleese
+slipping quietly out.
+
+"Meleese!" he called softly. "Meleese!"
+
+In an instant he had darted after her, leaving Jean beside the table.
+Beyond the door there was only the breaking gloom of the gray mornings
+but it was enough for him to see faintly the figure of the girl he
+loved, half turned, half waiting for him. With a cry of joy he sprang
+forward and gathered her close in his arms.
+
+"Meleese--my Meleese--" he whispered.
+
+After that there came no sound from the dawn-lit room beyond, but Jean
+Croisset, still standing by the table, murmured softly to himself: "Our
+Blessed Lady be praised, for it is all as Jean Croisset would have
+it--and now I can go to my Mariane!"
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10696 ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood</title>
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10696 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood</h1>
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr class="full">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>THE DANGER TRAIL</h2>
+
+<h3>By</h3>
+
+<h2>JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD</h2>
+
+<h3>1910</h3>
+
+
+
+<br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br><br>
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+<br>
+
+
+<table>
+
+<tr><td align="right">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td> <td></td>
+<tr><td align="right">I.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER I" >The Girl of the Snows</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">II.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_II" >Lips That Speak Not</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">III.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_III" >The Mysterious Attack</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">IV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV" >The Warning</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">V.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER_V" >Howland's Midnight Visitor</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI" >The Love of a Man</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII" >The Blowing of the Coyote</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VIII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII" >The Hour of Death</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">IX.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX" >The Tryst</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">X.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">A Race Into the North</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The House of the Red Death</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Fight</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XIII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Pursuit</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XIV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Gleam of the Light</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">In the Bedroom Chamber</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XVI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Jean's Story</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XVII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Meleese</a></td>
+
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h1>THE DANGER TRAIL</h1>
+<br>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE GIRL OF THE SNOWS</h3>
+
+<p>For perhaps the first time in his life Howland felt the spirit of
+romance, of adventure, of sympathy for the picturesque and the unknown
+surging through his veins. A billion stars glowed like yellow,
+passionless eyes in the polar cold of the skies. Behind him, white in
+its sinuous twisting through the snow-smothered wilderness, lay the icy
+Saskatchewan, with a few scattered lights visible where Prince Albert,
+the last outpost of civilization, came down to the river half a
+mile away.</p>
+
+<p>But it was into the North that Howland looked. From the top of the great
+ridge which he had climbed he gazed steadily into the white gloom which
+reached for a thousand miles from where he stood to the Arctic Sea.
+Faintly in the grim silence of the winter night there came to his ears
+the soft hissing sound of the aurora borealis as it played in its
+age-old song over the dome of the earth, and as he watched the cold
+flashes shooting like pale arrows through the distant sky and listened
+to its whispering music of unending loneliness and mystery, there came
+on him a strange feeling that it was beckoning to him and calling to
+him--telling him that up there very near to the end of the earth lay all
+that he had dreamed of and hoped for since he had grown old enough to
+begin the shaping of a destiny of his own.</p>
+
+<p>He shivered as the cold nipped at his blood, and lighted a fresh cigar,
+half-turning to shield himself from a wind that was growing out of the
+east. As the match flared in the cup of his hands for an instant there
+came from the black gloom of the balsam and spruce at his feet a
+wailing, hungerful cry that brought a startled breath from his lips. It
+was a cry such as Indian dogs make about the tepees of masters who are
+newly dead. He had never heard such a cry before, and yet he knew that
+it was a wolf's. It impressed him with an awe which was new to him and
+he stood as motionless as the trees about him until, from out the gray
+night-gloom to the west, there came an answering cry, and then, from far
+to the north, still another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sounds as though I'd better go back to town,&quot; he said to himself,
+speaking aloud. &quot;By George, but it's lonely!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He descended the ridge, walked rapidly over the hard crust of the snow
+across the Saskatchewan, and assured himself that he felt considerably
+easier when the lights of Prince Albert gleamed a few hundred yards
+ahead of him.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Howland was a Chicago man, which means that he was a hustler, and
+not overburdened with sentiment. For fifteen of his thirty-one years he
+had been hustling. Since he could easily remember, he had possessed to
+a large measure but one ambition and one hope. With a persistence which
+had left him peculiarly a stranger to the more frivolous and human sides
+of life he had worked toward the achievement of this ambition, and
+to-night, because that achievement was very near at hand, he was happy.
+He had never been happier. There flashed across his mental vision a
+swiftly moving picture of the fight he had made for success. It had been
+a magnificent fight. Without vanity he was proud of it, for fate had
+handicapped him at the beginning, and still he had won out. He saw
+himself again the homeless little farmer boy setting out from his
+Illinois village to take up life in a great city; as though it had all
+happened but yesterday he remembered how for days and weeks he had
+nearly starved, how he had sold papers at first, and then, by lucky
+chance, became errand boy in a big drafting establishment. It was there
+that the ambition was born in him. He saw great engineers come and
+go--men who were greater than presidents to him, and who sought out the
+ends of the earth in the following of their vocation. He made a slave of
+himself in the nurturing and strengthening of his ambition to become one
+of them--to be a builder of railroads and bridges, a tunneler of
+mountains, a creator of new things in new lands. His slavery had not
+lessened as his years increased. Voluntarily he had kept himself in
+bondage, fighting ceaselessly the obstacles in his way, triumphing over
+his handicaps as few other men had triumphed, rising, slowly, steadily,
+resistlessly, until now--. He flung back his head and the pulse of his
+heart quickened as he heard again the words of Van Horn, president of
+the greatest engineering company on the continent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland, we've decided to put you in charge Of the building of the
+Hudson Bay Railroad. It's one of the wildest jobs we've ever had, and
+Gregson and Thorne don't seem to catch on. They're bridge builders and
+not wilderness men. We've got to lay a single line of steel through
+three hundred miles of the wildest country in North America, and from
+this hour your motto is 'Do it or bust!' You can report at Le Pas as
+soon as you get your traps together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Those words had broken the slavedom for Howland. He had been fighting
+for an opportunity, and now that the opportunity had come he was sure
+that he would succeed. Swiftly, with his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets, he walked down the one main street of Prince Albert, puffing
+out odorous clouds of smoke from his cigar, every fiber in him tingling
+with the new joy that had come into his life. Another night would see
+him in Le Pas, the little outpost sixty miles farther east on the
+Saskatchewan. Then a hundred miles by dog-sledge and he would be in the
+big wilderness camp where three hundred men were already at work
+clearing a way to the great bay to the north. What a glorious
+achievement that road would be! It would remain for all time as a
+cenotaph to his ability, his courage and indomitable persistence.</p>
+
+<p>It was past nine o'clock when Howland entered the little old Windsor
+Hotel. The big room, through the windows of which he could look out on
+the street and across the frozen Saskatchewan, was almost empty. The
+clerk had locked his cigar-case and had gone to bed. In one corner,
+partly shrouded in gloom, sat a half-breed trapper who had come in that
+day from the Lac la Ronge country, and at his feet crouched one of his
+wolfish sledge-dogs. Both were wide-awake and stared curiously at
+Howland as he came in. In front of the two large windows sat half a
+dozen men, as silent as the half-breed, clad in moccasins and thick
+caribou skin coats. One of them was the factor from a Hudson Bay post at
+Lac Bain who had not been down to the edge of civilization for three
+years; the others, including two Crees and a Chippewayan, were hunters
+and Post men who had driven in their furs from a hundred miles to
+the north.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland paused in the middle of the room and looked about
+him. Ordinarily he would have liked this quiet, and would have gone to
+one of the two rude tables to write a letter or work out a problem of
+some sort, for he always carried a pocketful of problems about with him.
+His fifteen years of study and unceasing slavery to his ambition had
+made him naturally as taciturn as these grim men of the North, who were
+born to silence. But to-night there had come a change over him. He
+wanted to talk. He wanted to ask questions. He longed for human
+companionship, for some kind of mental exhilaration beyond that
+furnished by his own thoughts. Feeling in his pocket for a cigar he
+seated himself before one of the windows and proffered it to the factor
+from Lac Bain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You smoke?&quot; he asked companionably.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was born in a wigwam,&quot; said the factor slowly, taking the cigar.
+&quot;Thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Deuced polite for a man who hasn't seen civilization for three years,&quot;
+thought Howland, seating himself comfortably, with his feet on the
+window-sill. Aloud he said, &quot;The clerk tells me you are from Lac Bain.
+That's a good distance north, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Four hundred miles,&quot; replied the factor with quiet terseness. &quot;We're on
+the edge of the Barren Lands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whew!&quot; Howland shrugged his shoulders. Then he volunteered, &quot;I'm going
+north myself to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Post man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; engineer. I'm putting through the Hudson Bay Railroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the words quite clearly and as they fell from his lips the
+half-breed, partly concealed in the gloom behind him, straightened with
+the alert quickness of a cat. He leaned forward eagerly, his black eyes
+gleaming, and then rose softly from his seat. His moccasined feet made
+no sound as he came up behind Howland. It was the big huskie who first
+gave a sign of his presence. For a moment the upturned eyes of the young
+engineer met those of the half-breed. That look gave Howland a glimpse
+of a face which he could never forget--a thin, dark, sensitive face
+framed in shining, jet-black hair, and a pair of eyes that were the most
+beautiful he had ever seen in a man. Sometimes a look decides great
+friendship or bitter hatred between men. And something, nameless,
+unaccountable, passed between these two. Not until the half-breed had
+turned and was walking swiftly away did Howland realize that he wanted
+to speak to him, to grip him by the hand, to know him by name. He
+watched the slender form of the Northerner, as lithe and as graceful in
+its movement as a wild thing of the forests, until it passed from the
+door out into the night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who was that?&quot; he asked, turning to the factor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His name is Croisset. He comes from the Wholdaia country, beyond Lac la
+Ronge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;French?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half French, half Cree.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The factor resumed his steady gaze out into the white distance of the
+night, and Howland gave up his effort at conversation. After a little
+his companion shoved back his chair and bade him good night. The Crees
+and Chippewayan followed him, and a few minutes later the two white
+hunters left the engineer alone before the windows.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mighty funny people,&quot; he said half aloud. &quot;Wonder if they ever talk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face resting in his hands, and
+stared to catch a sign of moving life outside. In him there was no
+desire for sleep. Often he had called himself a night-bird, but seldom
+had he been more wakeful than on this night. The elation of his triumph,
+of his success, had not yet worn itself down to a normal and reasoning
+satisfaction, and his chief longing was for the day, and the day after
+that, and the next day, when he would take the place of Gregson and
+Thorne. Every muscle in his body was vibrant in its desire for action.
+He looked at his watch. It was only ten o'clock. Since supper he had
+smoked almost ceaselessly. Now he lighted another cigar and stood up
+close to one of the windows.</p>
+
+<p>Faintly he caught the sound of a step on the board walk outside. It was
+a light, quick step, and for an instant it hesitated, just out of his
+vision. Then it approached, and suddenly the figure of a woman stopped
+in front of the window. How she was dressed Howland could not have told
+a moment later. All that he saw was the face, white in the white
+night--a face on which the shimmering starlight fell as it was lifted to
+his gaze, beautiful, as clear-cut as a cameo, with eyes that looked up
+at him half-pleadingly, half-luringly, and lips parted, as if about to
+speak to him. He stared, moveless in his astonishment, and in another
+breath the face was gone.</p>
+
+<p>With a hurried exclamation he ran across the empty room to the door and
+looked down the starlit street. To go from the window to the door took
+him but a few seconds, yet he found the street deserted--deserted except
+for a solitary figure three blocks away and a dog that growled at him
+as he thrust out his head and shoulders. He heard no sound of footsteps,
+no opening or closing of a door. Only there came to him that faint,
+hissing music of the northern skies, and once more, from the black
+forest beyond the Saskatchewan, the infinite sadness of the wolf-howl.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>LIPS THAT SPEAK NOT</h3>
+
+<p>Howland was not a man easily susceptible to a pair of eyes and a pretty
+face. The practical side of his nature was too much absorbed in its
+devices and schemes for the building of material things to allow the
+breaking in of romance. At least Howland had always complimented himself
+on this fact, and he laughed a little nervously as he went back to his
+seat near the window. He was conscious that a flush of unusual
+excitement had leaped into his cheeks and already the practical side of
+him was ashamed of that to which the romantic side had surrendered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce, but she was pretty!&quot; he excused himself. &quot;And those eyes--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he checked himself. There had been more than the eyes; more
+than the pretty face! Why had the girl paused in front of the window?
+Why had she looked at him so intently, as though on the point of speech?
+The smile and the flush left his face as these questions came to him and
+he wondered if he had failed to comprehend something which she had meant
+him to understand. After all, might it not have been a case of mistaken
+identity? For a moment she had believed that she recognized him--then,
+seeing her mistake, had passed swiftly down the street. Under ordinary
+circumstances Howland would have accepted this solution of the incident.
+But to-night he was in an unusual mood, and it quickly occurred to him
+that even if his supposition were true it did not explain the pallor in
+the girl's face and the strange entreaty which had glowed for an instant
+in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Anyway it was none of his business, and he walked casually to the door.
+At the end of the street, a quarter of a mile distant, a red light
+burned feebly over the front of a Chinese restaurant, and in a
+mechanical fashion his footsteps led him in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll drop in and have a cup of tea,&quot; he assured himself, throwing away
+the stub of his cigar and filling his lungs with great breaths of the
+cold, dry air. &quot;Lord, but it's a glorious night! I wish Van Horn
+could see it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped and turned his eyes again into the North. Its myriad stars,
+white and unshivering, the elusive play of the mysterious lights
+hovering over the pole, and the black edge of the wilderness beyond the
+river were holding a greater and greater fascination for him. Since
+morning, when he had looked on that wilderness for the first time in his
+life, new blood had entered into him, and he rejoiced that it was this
+wonderful world which was to hold for him success and fortune. Never had
+he dreamed that the mere joy of living would appeal to him as it did
+now; that the act of breathing, of seeing, of looking on wonders in
+which his hands had taken no part in the making, would fill him with the
+indefinable pleasure which had suddenly become his experience. He
+wondered, as he still stood gazing into the infinity of that other
+world beyond the Saskatchewan, if romance was really quite dead in him.
+Always he had laughed at romance. Work--the grim reality of action, of
+brain fighting brain, of cleverness pitted against other men's
+cleverness--had almost brought him to the point of regarding romance in
+life as a peculiar illusion of fools--and women. But he was fair in his
+concessions, and to-night he acknowledged that he had enjoyed the
+romance of what he had seen and heard. And most of all, his blood had
+been stirred by the beautiful face that had looked at him from out of
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>The tuneless thrumming of a piano sounded behind him. As he passed
+through the low door of the restaurant a man and woman lurched past him
+and in their irresolute faces and leering stare he read the verification
+of his suspicions of the place. Through a second door he entered a large
+room filled with tables and chairs, and pregnant with strange odors. At
+one of the farther tables sat a long-queued Chinaman with his head
+bowed in his arms. Behind a counter stood a second, as motionless as an
+obelisk in the half gloom of the dimly illuminated room, his evil face
+challenging Howland as he entered. The sound of a piano came from above
+and with a bold and friendly nod the young engineer mounted a pair
+of stairs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tough joint,&quot; he muttered, falling into his old habit of communing with
+himself. &quot;Hope they make good tea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of his footsteps on the stair the playing of the piano
+ceased. He was surprised at what greeted him above. In startling
+contrast to the loathsome environment below he entered a luxuriously
+appointed room, heavily hung with oriental tapestries, and with half a
+dozen onyx tables partially concealed behind screens and gorgeously
+embroidered silk curtains. At one of these he seated himself and
+signaled for service with the tiny bell near his hand. In response there
+appeared a young Chinaman with close-cropped hair and attired in
+evening dress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A pot of tea,&quot; ordered Howland; and under his breath he added, &quot;Pretty
+deuced good for a wilderness town! I wonder--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked about him curiously. Although it was only eleven o'clock the
+place appeared to be empty. Yet Howland was reasonably assured that it
+was not empty. He was conscious of sensing in a vague sort of way the
+presence of others somewhere near him. He was sure that there was a
+faint, acrid odor lurking above that of burned incense, and he shrugged
+his shoulders with conviction when he paid a dollar for his pot of tea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Opium, as sure as your name is Jack Howland,&quot; he said, when the waiter
+was gone. &quot;I wonder again--how many pots of tea do they sell in
+a night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He sipped his own leisurely, listening with all the eagerness of the new
+sense of freedom which had taken possession of him. The Chinaman had
+scarcely disappeared when he heard footsteps on the stair. In another
+instant a low word of surprise almost leaped from his lips. Hesitating
+for a moment in the doorway, her face staring straight into his own,
+was the girl whom he had seen through the hotel window!</p>
+
+<p>For perhaps no more than five seconds their eyes met. Yet in that time
+there was painted on his memory a picture that Howland knew he would
+never forget. His was a nature, because of the ambition imposed on it,
+that had never taken more than a casual interest in the form and feature
+of women. He had looked on beautiful faces and had admired them in a
+cool, dispassionate way, judging them--when he judged at all--as he
+might have judged the more material workmanship of his own hands. But
+this face that was framed for a few brief moments in the door reached
+out to him and stirred an interest within him which was as new as it was
+pleasurable. It was a beautiful face. He knew that in a fraction of the
+first second. It was not white, as he had first seen it through the
+window. The girl's cheeks were flushed. Her lips were parted, and she
+was breathing quickly, as though from the effect of climbing the stair.
+But it was her eyes that sent Howland's blood a little faster through
+his veins. They were glorious eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The girl turned from his gaze and seated herself at a table so that he
+caught only her profile. The change delighted him. It afforded him
+another view of the picture that had appeared to him in the doorway, and
+he could study it without being observed in the act, though he was
+confident that the girl knew his eyes were on her. He refilled his tiny
+cup with tea and smiled when he noticed that she could easily have
+seated herself behind one of the screens. From the flush in her cheeks
+his eyes traveled critically to the rich glow of the light in her
+shining brown hair, which swept half over her ears in thick, soft waves,
+caught in a heavy coil low on her neck. Then, for the first time, he
+noticed her dress. It puzzled him. Her turban and muff were of deep gray
+lynx fur. Around her shoulders was a collarette of the same material.
+Her hands were immaculately gloved. In every feature of her lovely face,
+in every point of her dress, she bore the indisputable mark of
+refinement. The quizzical smile left his lips. The thoughts which at
+first had filled his mind as quickly disappeared. Who was she? Why
+was she here?</p>
+
+<p>With cat-like quietness the young Chinaman entered between the screens
+and stood beside her. On a small tablet which Howland had not before
+observed she wrote her order. It was for tea. He noticed that she gave
+the waiter a dollar bill in payment and that the Chinaman returned
+seventy-five cents to her in change.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Discrimination,&quot; he chuckled to himself. &quot;Proof that she's not a
+stranger here, and knows the price of things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He poured his last half cup of tea and when he lifted his eyes he was
+surprised to find that the girl was looking at him. For a brief interval
+her gaze was steady and clear; then the flush deepened in her cheeks;
+her long lashes drooped as the cold gray of Howland's eyes met hers in
+unflinching challenge, and she turned to her tea. Howland noted that the
+hand which lifted the little Japanese pot was trembling slightly. He
+leaned forward, and as if impelled by the movement, the girl turned her
+face to him again, the tea-urn poised above her cup. In her dark eyes
+was an expression which half brought him to his feet, a wistful glow, a
+pathetic and yet half-frightened appeal to him. He rose, his eyes
+questioning her, and to his unspoken inquiry her lips formed themselves
+into a round, red O, and she nodded to the opposite side of her table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; he said, seating himself. &quot;May I give you my card?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He felt as if there was something brutally indecent in what he was doing
+and the knowledge of it sent a red flush to his cheeks. The girl read
+his name, smiled across the table at him, and with a pretty gesture,
+motioned him to bring his cup and share her tea with her. He returned to
+his table and when he came back with the cup in his hand she was writing
+on one of the pages of the tablet, which she passed across to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must pardon me for not talking,&quot; he read. &quot;I can hear you very
+well, but I, unfortunately, am a mute.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could not repress the low ejaculation of astonishment that came to
+his lips, and as his companion lifted her cup he saw in her face again
+the look that had stirred him so strangely when he stood in the window
+of the Hotel Windsor. Howland was not a man educated in the trivialities
+of chance flirtations. He lacked finesse, and now he spoke boldly and to
+the point, the honest candor of his gray eyes shining full on the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw you from the hotel window to-night,&quot; he began, &quot;and something in
+your face led me to believe that you were in trouble. That is why I have
+ventured to be so bold. I am the engineer in charge of the new Hudson
+Bay Railroad, just on my way to Le Pas from Chicago. I'm a stranger in
+town. I've never been in this--this place before. It's a very nice
+tea-room, an admirable blind for the opium stalls behind those walls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In a few terse words he had covered the situation, as he would have
+covered a similar situation in a business deal. He had told the girl
+who and what he was, had revealed the cause of his interest in her, and
+at the same time had given her to understand that he was aware of the
+nature of their present environment. Closely he watched the effect of
+his words and in another breath was sorry that he had been so blunt. The
+girl's eyes traveled swiftly about her; he saw the quick rise and fall
+of her bosom, the swift fading of the color in her cheeks, the
+affrighted glow in her eyes as they came back big and questioning
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I didn't know,&quot; she wrote quickly, and hesitated. Her face was as white
+now as when Howland had looked on it through the window. Her hand
+trembled nervously and for an instant her lip quivered in a way that set
+Howland's heart pounding tumultuously within him. &quot;I am a stranger,
+too,&quot; she added. &quot;I have never been in this place before. I came
+because--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She stopped, and the catching breath in her throat was almost a sob as
+she looked at Howland. He knew that it took an effort for her to write
+the next words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I came because you came.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot; he asked. His voice was low and assuring. &quot;Tell me--why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He read her words as she wrote them, leaning half across the table in
+his eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am a stranger,&quot; she repeated. &quot;I want some one to help me.
+Accidentally I learned who you were and made up my mind to see you at
+the hotel, but when I got there I was afraid to go in. Then I saw you in
+the window. After a little you came out and I saw you enter here. I
+didn't know what kind of place it was and I followed you. Won't you
+please go with me--to where I am staying--and I will tell you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She left the sentence unfinished, her eyes pleading with him. Without a
+word he rose and seized his hat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go, Miss--&quot; He laughed frankly into her face, inviting her to
+write her name. For a moment she smiled back at him, the color
+brightening her cheeks. Then she turned and hurried down the stair.</p>
+
+<p>Outside Howland gave her his arm. His eyes, passing above her, caught
+again the luring play of the aurora in the north. He flung back his
+shoulders, drank in the fresh air, and laughed in the buoyancy of the
+new life that he felt.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a glorious night!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded, and smiled up at him. Her face was very near to his
+shoulder, ever more beautiful in the white light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>They did not look behind them. Neither heard the quiet fall of
+moccasined feet a dozen yards away. Neither saw the gleaming eyes and
+the thin, dark face of Jean Croisset, the half-breed, as they walked
+swiftly in the direction of the Saskatchewan.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE MYSTERIOUS ATTACK</h3>
+
+<p>Howland was glad that for a time there was an excuse for his silence. It
+began to dawn on him that this was an extraordinary adventure for a man
+on whose shoulders rested the responsibilities of one of the greatest
+engineering tasks on the continent, and who was due to take a train for
+the seat of his operations at eight o'clock in the morning. Inwardly he
+was experiencing some strange emotions; outwardly he smiled as he
+thought of what Van Horn would say if he knew the circumstances. He
+looked down at his companion; saw the sheen of her hair as it rippled
+out from under her fur turban, studied the soft contour of her cheek and
+chin, without himself being observed, and noticed, incidentally, that
+the top of the bewitching head beside him came just about to a level
+with his cigar which he was smoking. He wondered if he were making a
+fool of himself. If so, he assured himself that there was at least one
+compensation. This night in Prince Albert would not be so uninteresting
+as it had promised to be earlier in the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Where the river ferry was half drawn up on the shore, its stern frozen
+in the ice, he paused and looked down at the girl in quiet surprise. She
+nodded, smiling, and motioned across the river.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was over there once to-night,&quot; said Howland aloud. &quot;Didn't see any
+houses and heard nothing but wolves. Is that where we're going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her white teeth gleamed at him and he was conscious of a warm pressure
+against his arm as the girl signified that they were to cross. His
+perplexity increased. On the farther shore the forest came down to the
+river's edge in a black wall of spruce and balsam. Beyond that edge of
+the wilderness he knew that no part of Prince Albert intruded. It was
+possible that across from them was a squatter's cabin; and yet if this
+were so, and the girl was going to it, why had she told him that she was
+a stranger in the town? And why had she come to him for the assistance
+she promised to request of him instead of seeking it of those whom
+she knew?</p>
+
+<p>He asked himself these questions without putting them in words, and not
+until they were climbing up the frozen bank of the stream, with the
+shadows of the forest growing deeper about them, did he speak again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You told me you were a stranger,&quot; he said, stopping his companion where
+the light of the stars fell on the face which she turned up to him. She
+smiled, and nodded affirmatively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You seem pretty well acquainted over here,&quot; he persisted. &quot;Where are we
+going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time she responded with an emphatic negative shake of her head, at
+the same time pointing with her free hand to the well-defined trail that
+wound up from the ferry landing into the forest. Earlier in the day
+Howland had been told that this was the Great North Trail that led into
+the vast wildernesses beyond the Saskatchewan. Two days before, the
+factor from Lac Bain, the Chippewayan and the Crees had come in over it.
+Its hard crust bore the marks of the sledges of Jean Croisset and the
+men from the Lac la Ronge country. Since the big snow, which had fallen
+four feet deep ten days before, a forest man had now and then used this
+trail on his way down to the edge of civilization; but none from Prince
+Albert had traveled it in the other direction. Howland had been told
+this at the hotel, and he shrugged his shoulders in candid bewilderment
+as he stared down into the girl's face. She seemed to understand his
+thoughts, and again her mouth rounded itself into that bewitching red O,
+which gave to her face an expression of tender entreaty, of pathetic
+grief that the soft lips were powerless to voice, the words which she
+wished to speak. Then, suddenly, she darted a few steps from Howland and
+with the toe of her shoe formed a single word in the surface of the
+snow. She rested her hand lightly on Howland's shoulder as he bent over
+to make it out in the elusive starlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Camp!&quot; he cried, straightening himself. &quot;Do you mean to say you're
+camping out here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She nodded again and again, delighted that he understood her. There was
+something so childishly sweet in her face, in the gladness of her eyes,
+that Howland stretched out both his hands to her, laughing aloud. &quot;You!&quot;
+he exclaimed. &quot;<i>You</i>--camping out here!&quot; With a quick little movement
+she came to him, still laughing with her eyes and lips, and for an
+instant he held both her hands tight in his own. Her lovely face was
+dangerously near to him. He felt the touch of her breath on his face,
+for an instant caught the sweet scent of her hair. Never had he seen
+eyes like those that glowed up at him softly, filled with the gentle
+starlight; never in his life had he dreamed of a face like this, so near
+to him that it sent the blood leaping through his veins in strange
+excitement. He held the hands tighter, and the movement drew the girl
+closer to him, until for no more than a breath he felt her against his
+breast. In that moment he forgot all sense of time and place; forgot his
+old self--Jack Howland--practical, unromantic, master-builder of
+railroads; forgot everything but this presence of the girl, the warm
+pressure against his breast, the lure of the great brown eyes that had
+come so unexpectedly into his life. In another moment he had recovered
+himself. He drew a step back, freeing the girl's hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; he said softly. His cheeks burned hotly at what he
+had done, and turning squarely about he strode up the trail. He had not
+taken a dozen paces, when far ahead of him he saw the red glow of a
+fire. Then a hand caught his arm, clutching at it almost fiercely, and
+he turned to meet the girl's face, white now with a strange terror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; he cried. &quot;Tell me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught her hands again, startled by the look in her eyes. Quickly she
+pulled herself away. A dozen feet behind her, in the thick shadows of
+the forest trees, something took shape and movement. In a flash Howland
+saw a huge form leap from the gloom and caught the gleam of an uplifted
+knife. There was no time for him to leap aside, no time for him to reach
+for the revolver which he carried in his pocket. In such a crisis one's
+actions are involuntary, machine-like, as if life, hovering by a thread,
+preserves itself in its own manner and without thought or reasoning on
+the part of the creature it animates.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Howland neither thought nor reasoned. Had he done so he
+would probably have met his mysterious assailant, pitting his naked
+fists against the knife. But the very mainspring of his existence--which
+is self-preservation--called on him to do otherwise. Before the startled
+cry on his lips found utterance he flung himself face downward in the
+snow. The move saved him, and as the other stumbled over his body,
+pitching headlong into the trail, he snatched forth his revolver. Before
+he could fire there came a roar like that of a beast from behind him
+and a terrific blow fell on his head. Under the weight of a second
+assailant he was crushed to the snow, his pistol slipped from his grasp,
+and two great hands choked a despairing cry from his throat. He saw a
+face over him, distorted with passion, a huge neck, eyes that named like
+angry garnets. He struggled to free his pinioned arms, to wrench off the
+death-grip at his throat, but his efforts were like those of a child
+against a giant. In a last terrible attempt he drew up his knees inch by
+inch under the weight of his enemy; it was his only chance, his only
+hope. Even as he felt the fingers about his throat, sinking like hot
+iron into his flesh, and the breath slipping from his body, he
+remembered this murderous knee-punch taught to him by the rough fighters
+of the Inland Seas, and with all the life that remained in him he sent
+it crushing into the other's abdomen. It was a moment before he knew
+that it had been successful, before the film cleared from his eyes and
+he saw his assailant groveling in the snow. He rose to his feet, dazed
+and staggering from the effect of the blow on his head and the murderous
+grip at his throat. Half a pistol shot down the trail he saw
+indistinctly the twisting of black objects in the snow, and as he stared
+one of the objects came toward him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not fire, M'seur Howland,&quot; he heard a voice call. &quot;It ees I--Jean
+Croisset, a friend! Blessed Saints, that was--what you call heem?--close
+heem?--close call?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The half-breed's thin dark face came up smiling out of the white gloom.
+For a moment Howland did not see him, scarcely heard his words. Wildly
+he looked about him for the girl. She was gone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I happened here--just in time--with a club,&quot; continued Croisset. &quot;Come,
+we must go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The smile had gone from his face and there was a commanding firmness in
+the grip that fell on the young engineer's arm. Howland was conscious
+that things were twisting about him and that there was a strange
+weakness in his limbs. Dumbly he raised his hands to his head, which
+hurt him until he felt as if he must cry out in his pain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The girl--&quot; he gasped weakly.</p>
+
+<p>Croisset's arm tightened about his waist.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She ees gone!&quot; Howland heard him say; and there was something in the
+half-breed's low voice that caused him to turn unquestioningly and
+stagger along beside him in the direction of Prince Albert.</p>
+
+<p>And yet as he went, only half-conscious of what he was doing, and
+leaning more and more heavily on his companion, he knew that it was more
+than the girl's disappearance that he wanted to understand. For as the
+blow had fallen on his head he was sure that he had heard a woman's
+scream; and as he lay in the snow, dazed and choking, spending his last
+effort in his struggle for life, there had come to him, as if from an
+infinite distance, a woman's voice, and the words that it had uttered
+pounded in his tortured brain now as his head dropped weakly against
+Croisset's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He tried to repeat them aloud, but his voice sounded only in an
+incoherent murmur. Where the forest came down to the edge of the river
+the half-breed stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must carry you, M'seur Howland,&quot; he said; and as he staggered out on
+the ice with his inanimate burden, he spoke softly to himself, &quot;The
+saints preserve me, but what would the sweet Meleese say if she knew
+that Jean Croisset had come so near to losing the life of this M'seur le
+engineer? <i>Ce monde est plein de fous!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE WARNING</h3>
+
+<p>In only a subconscious sort of way was Howland cognizant of anything
+more that happened that night. When he came back into a full sense of
+his existence he found himself in his bed at the hotel. A lamp was
+burning low on the table. A glance showed him that the room was empty.
+He raised his head and shoulders from the pillows on which they were
+resting and the movement helped to bring him at once into a realization
+of what had happened. He was hurt. There was a dull, aching pain in his
+head and neck and when he raised an inquiring hand it came in contact
+with a thick bandage. He wondered if he were badly hurt and sank back
+again on the pillows, lying with his eyes staring at the faint glow of
+the lamp. Soon there came a sound at the door and he twisted his head,
+grimacing with the pain it caused him. Jean was looking in at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, M'seur ees awake!&quot; he said, seeing the wide-open eyes. He came in
+softly, closing the door behind him. &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but if it had been a
+heavier club by the weight of a pound you would have gone into the
+blessed hereafter,&quot; he smiled, approaching with noiseless tread. He held
+a glass of water to Howland's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it bad, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So bad that you will be in bed for a day or so, M'seur. That is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Impossible!&quot; cried the young engineer. &quot;I must take the eight o'clock
+train in the morning. I must be in Le Pas--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is five o'clock now,&quot; interrupted Jean softly. &quot;Do you feel like
+going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland straightened himself and fell back suddenly with a sharp cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; he exclaimed. After a moment he added, &quot;There will be no
+other train for two days.&quot; As he raised a hand to his aching head, his
+other closed tightly about Jean's lithe brown fingers. &quot;I want to thank
+you for what you did, Croisset. I don't know what happened. I don't know
+who they were or why they tried to kill me. There was a girl--I was
+going with her--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped his hand in time to see the strange fire that had leaped into
+the half-breed's eyes. In astonishment he half lifted himself again, his
+white face questioning Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know?&quot; he whispered eagerly. &quot;Who was she? Why did she lead me
+into that ambush? Why did they attempt to kill me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The questions shot from him excitedly, and he knew from what he saw in
+the other's face that Croisset could have answered them. Yet from the
+thin tense lips above him there came no response. With a quick movement
+the half-breed drew away his hand and moved toward the door. Half way he
+paused and turned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I have come to you with a warning. Do not go to Le Pas. Do not
+go to the big railroad camp on the Wekusko. Return into the South.&quot; For
+an instant he leaned forward, his black eyes flashing, his hands
+clenched tightly at his sides. &quot;Perhaps you will understand,&quot; he cried
+tensely, &quot;when I tell you this warning is sent to you--by the
+little Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before Howland could recover from his surprise Croisset had passed
+swiftly through the door. The engineer called his name, but there came
+no response other than the rapidly retreating sound of the Northerner's
+moccasined feet. With a grumble of vexation he sank back on his pillows.
+The fresh excitement had set his head in a whirl again and a feverish
+heat mounted into his face. For a long time he lay with his eyes closed,
+trying to clear for himself the mystery of the preceding night. The one
+thought which obsessed him was that he had been duped. His lovely
+acquaintance of the preceding evening had ensnared him completely with
+her gentle smile and her winsome mouth, and he gritted his teeth grimly
+as he reflected how easy he had been. Deliberately she had lured him
+into the ambush which would have proved fatal for him had it not been
+for Jean Croisset. And she was not a mute! He had heard her voice; when
+that death-grip was tightest about his throat there had come to him that
+terrified cry: &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His breath came a little faster as he whispered the words to himself.
+They appealed to him now with a significance which he had not understood
+at first. He was sure that in that cry there had been real terror;
+almost, he fancied, as he lay with his eyes shut tight, that he could
+still hear the shrill note of despair in the voice. The more he tried to
+reason the situation, the more inexplicable grew the mystery of it all.
+If the girl had calmly led him into the ambush, why, in the last moment,
+when success seemed about to crown her duplicity, had she cried out in
+that agony of terror? In Howland's heated brain there came suddenly a
+vision of her as she stood beside him in the white trail; he felt again
+the thrill of her hands, the touch of her breast for a moment against
+his own; saw the gentle look that had come into her deep, pure eyes; the
+pathetic tremor of the lips which seemed bravely striving to speak to
+him. Was it possible that face and eyes like those could have led him
+into a deathtrap! Despite the evidence of what had happened he found
+himself filled with doubt. And yet, after all, she had lied to him--for
+she was not a mute!</p>
+
+<p>He turned over with a groan and watched the door. When Croisset returned
+he would insist on knowing more about the strange occurrence, for he was
+sure that the half-breed could clear away at least a part of the
+mystery. Vainly, as he watched and waited, he racked his mind to find
+some reason for the murderous attack on himself. Who was &quot;the little
+Meleese,&quot; whom Croisset declared had sent the warning? So far as he
+could remember he had never known a person by that name. And yet the
+half-breed had uttered it as though it would carry a vital meaning to
+him. &quot;Perhaps you will understand,&quot; he had said, and Howland strove to
+understand, until his brain grew dizzy and a nauseous sickness
+overcame him.</p>
+
+<p>The first light of the day was falling faintly through the window when
+footsteps sounded outside the door again. It was not Croisset who
+appeared this time, but the proprietor himself, bearing with him a tray
+on which there was toast and a steaming pot of coffee. He nodded and
+smiled as he saw Howland half sitting up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad fall you had,&quot; he greeted, drawing a small table close beside the
+bed. &quot;This snow is treacherous when you're climbing among the rocks.
+When it caves in with you on the side of a mountain you might as well
+make up your mind you're going to get a good bump. Good thing Croisset
+was with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments Howland was speechless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--it--was--a--bad--fall,&quot; he replied at last, looking sharply at the
+other. &quot;Where is Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gone. He left an hour ago with his dogs. Funny fellow--that Croisset!
+Came in yesterday from the Lac la Ronge country a hundred miles north;
+goes back to-day. No apparent reason for his coming, none for his going,
+that I can see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know anything about him?&quot; asked Howland a little eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. He comes in about once or twice a year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young engineer munched his toast and drank his coffee for some
+moments in silence. Then, casually, he asked,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese--Meleese--Meleese--&quot; repeated the hotel man, running a hand
+through his hair. &quot;It seems to me that the name is familiar--and yet I
+can't remember--&quot; He caught himself in sudden triumph. &quot;Ah, I have it!
+Two years ago I had a kitchen woman named Meleese.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This was a young woman,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Meleese we had is dead,&quot; replied the proprietor cheerfully, rising
+to go. &quot;I'll send up for your tray in half an hour or so, Mr. Howland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Several hours later Howland crawled from his bed and bathed his head in
+cold water. After that he felt better, dressed himself, and went below.
+His head pained him considerably, but beyond that and an occasional
+nauseous sensation the injury he had received in the fight caused him no
+very great distress. He went in to dinner and by the middle of the
+afternoon was so much improved that he lighted his first cigar and
+ventured out into the bracing air for a short walk. At first it occurred
+to him that he might make inquiries at the Chinese restaurant regarding
+the identity of the girl whom he had met there, but he quickly changed
+his mind, and crossing the river he followed the trail which they had
+taken the preceding night. For a few moments he contemplated the marks
+of the conflict in the snow. Where he had first seen the half-breed
+there were blotches of blood on the crust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for Croisset!&quot; Howland muttered; &quot;good for Croisset. It looks as
+though he used a knife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could see where the wounded man had dragged himself up the trail,
+finally staggering to his feet, and with a caution which he had not
+exercised a few hours before Howland continued slowly between the thick
+forest walls, one hand clutching the butt of the revolver in his coat
+pocket. Where the trail twisted abruptly into the north he found the
+charred remains of a camp-fire in a small open, and just beyond it a
+number of birch toggles, which had undoubtedly been used in place of
+tent-stakes. With the toe of his boot he kicked among the ashes and
+half-burned bits of wood. There was no sign of smoke, not a living spark
+to give evidence that human presence had been there for many hours.
+There was but one conclusion to make; soon after their unsuccessful
+attempt on his life his strange assailants had broken camp and fled.
+With them, in all probability, had gone the girl whose soft eyes and
+sweet face had lured him within their reach.</p>
+
+<p>But where had they gone?</p>
+
+<p>Carefully he examined the abandoned camp. In the hard crust were the
+imprints of dogs' claws. In several places he found the faint, broad
+impression made by a toboggan. The marks at least cleared away the
+mystery of their disappearance. Sometime during the night they had fled
+by dog-sledge into the North.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired when he returned to the hotel and it was rather with a
+sense of disappointment than pleasure that he learned the work-train was
+to leave for Le Pas late that night instead of the next day. After a
+quiet hour's rest in his room, however, his old enthusiasm returned to
+him. He found himself feverishly anxious to reach Le Pas and the big
+camp on the Wekusko. Croisset's warning for him to turn back into the
+South, instead of deterring him, urged him on. He was born a fighter. It
+was by fighting that he had forced his way round by round up the ladder
+of success. And now the fact that his life was in danger, that some
+mysterious peril awaited him in the depths of the wilderness, but added
+a new and thrilling fascination to the tremendous task which was ahead
+of him. He wondered if this same peril had beset Gregson and Thorne, and
+if it was the cause of their failure, of their anxiety to return to
+civilization. He assured himself that he would know when he met them at
+Le Pas. He would discover more when he became a part of the camp on the
+Wekusko; that is, if the half-breed's warning held any significance at
+all, and he believed that it did. Anyway, he would prepare for
+developments. So he went to a gun-shop, bought a long-barreled
+six-shooter and a holster, and added to it a hunting-knife like that he
+had seen carried by Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>It was near midnight when he boarded the work-train and dawn was just
+beginning to break over the wilderness when it stopped at Etomami, from
+which point he was to travel by hand-car over the sixty miles of new
+road that had been constructed as far north as Le Pas. For three days
+the car had been waiting for the new chief of the road, but neither
+Gregson nor Thorne was with it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Gregson is waiting for you at Le Pas,&quot; said one of the men who had
+come with it. &quot;Thorne is at Wekusko.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in his life Howland now plunged into the heart of the
+wilderness, and as mile after mile slipped behind them and he sped
+deeper into the peopleless desolation of ice and snow and forest his
+blood leaped in swift excitement, in the new joy of life which he was
+finding up here under the far northern skies. Seated on the front of the
+car, with the four men pumping behind him, he drank in the wild beauties
+of the forests and swamps through which they slipped, his eyes
+constantly on the alert for signs of the big game which his companions
+told him was on all sides of them.</p>
+
+<p>Everywhere about them lay white winter. The rocks, the trees, and the
+great ridges, which in this north country are called mountains, were
+covered with four feet of snow and on it the sun shone with dazzling
+brilliancy. But it was not until a long grade brought them to the top of
+one of these ridges and Howland looked into the north that he saw the
+wilderness in all of its grandeur. As the car stopped he sprang to his
+feet with a joyous cry, his face aflame with what he saw ahead of him.
+Stretching away under his eyes, mile after mile, was the vast white
+desolation that reached to Hudson Bay. In speechless wonder he gazed
+down on the unblazed forests, saw plains and hills unfold themselves as
+his vision gained distance, followed a frozen river until it was lost in
+the bewildering picture, and let his eyes rest here and there on the
+glistening, snow-smothered bosoms of lakes, rimmed in by walls of black
+forest. This was not the wilderness as he had expected it to be, nor as
+he had often read of it in books. It was not the wilderness that Gregson
+and Thorne had described in their letters. It was beautiful! It was
+magnificent! His heart throbbed with pleasure as he gazed down on it,
+the flush grew deeper in his face, and he seemed hardly to breathe in
+his tense interest.</p>
+
+<p>One of the four on the car was an old Indian and it was he, strangely
+enough, who broke the silence. He had seen the look in Howland's face,
+and he spoke softly, close to his ear, &quot;Twent' t'ousand moose down
+there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No man--no house--more twent'
+t'ousand miles!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland, even quivering in his new emotion, looked into the old
+warrior's eyes, filled with the curious, thrilling gleam of the spirit
+which was stirring within himself. Then again he stared straight out
+into the unending distance as though his vision would penetrate far
+beyond the last of that visible desolation--on and on, even to the grim
+and uttermost fastnesses of Hudson Bay; and as he looked he knew that in
+these moments there had been born in him a new spirit, a new being; that
+no longer was he the old Jack Howland whose world had been confined by
+office walls and into whose conception of life there had seldom entered
+things other than those which led directly toward the achievement of his
+ambitions.</p>
+
+<p>The short northern day was nearing an end when once more they saw the
+broad Saskatchewan twisting through a plain below them, and on its
+southern shore the few log buildings of Le Pas hemmed in on three sides
+by the black forests of balsam and spruce. Lights were burning in the
+cabins and in the Hudson Bay Post's store when the car was brought to a
+halt half a hundred paces from a squat, log-built structure, which was
+more brilliantly illuminated than any of the others.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the hotel,&quot; said one of the men. &quot;Gregson's there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A tall, fur-clad figure hurried forth to meet Howland as he walked
+briskly across the open. It was Gregson. As the two men gripped hands
+the young engineer stared at the other in astonishment. This was not
+the Gregson he had known in the Chicago office, round-faced, full of
+life, as active as a cricket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never so glad to see any one in my life, Howland!&quot; he cried, shaking
+the other's hand again and again. &quot;Another month and I'd be dead. Isn't
+this a hell of a country?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm falling more in love with it at every breath, Gregson. What's the
+matter? Have you been sick?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gregson laughed as they turned toward the lighted building. It was a
+short, nervous laugh, and with it he gave a curious sidewise glance at
+his companion's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sick?--yes, sick of the job! If the old man hadn't sent us relief
+Thorne and I would have thrown up the whole thing in another four weeks.
+I'll warrant you'll get your everlasting fill of log shanties and
+half-breeds and moose meat and this infernal snow and ice before spring
+comes. But I don't want to discourage you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't discourage me!&quot; laughed Howland cheerfully. &quot;You know I never
+cared much for theaters and girls,&quot; he added slyly, giving Gregson a
+good-natured nudge. &quot;How about 'em up here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--not a cursed thing.&quot; Suddenly his eyes lighted up. &quot;By George,
+Howland, but I <i>did</i> see the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on
+to-day! I'd give a box of pure Havanas--and we haven't had one for a
+month!--if I could know who she is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They had entered through the low door of the log boarding-house and
+Gregson was throwing off his heavy coat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A tall girl, with a fur hat and muff?&quot; queried Howland eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing of the sort. She was a typical Northerner if there ever was
+one--straight as a birch, dressed in fur cap and coat, short caribou
+skin skirt and moccasins, and with a braid hanging down her back as long
+as my arm. Lord, but she was pretty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't there a girl somewhere up around our camp named Meleese?&quot; asked
+Howland casually.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never heard of her,&quot; said Gregson.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or a man named Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never heard of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce, but you're interesting,&quot; laughed the young engineer,
+sniffing at the odors of cooking supper. &quot;I'm as hungry as a bear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From outside there came the sharp cracking of a sledge-driver's whip and
+Gregson went to one of the small windows looking out upon the clearing.
+In another instant he sprang toward the door, crying out to Howland,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the god of love, there she is, old man! Quick, if you want to get a
+glimpse of her!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He flung the door open and Howland hurried to his side. There came
+another crack of the whip, a loud shout, and a sledge drawn by six dogs
+sped past them into the gathering gloom of the early night.</p>
+
+<p>From Howland's lips, too, there fell a sudden cry; for one of the two
+faces that were turned toward him for an instant was that of Croisset,
+and the other--white and staring as he had seen it that first night in
+Prince Albert--was the face of the beautiful girl who had lured him into
+the ambush on the Great North Trail!</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>HOWLAND'S MIDNIGHT VISITOR</h3>
+
+<p>For a moment after the swift passing of the sledge it was on Howland's
+lips to shout Croisset's name; as he thrust Gregson aside and leaped out
+into the night he was impelled with a desire to give chase, to overtake
+in some way the two people who, within the space of forty-eight hours,
+had become so mysteriously associated with his own life, and who were
+now escaping him again.</p>
+
+<p>It was Gregson who recalled him to his senses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought you didn't care for theaters--<i>and girls</i>, Howland,&quot; he
+exclaimed banteringly, repeating Howland's words of a few minutes
+before. &quot;A pretty face affects you a little differently up here, eh?
+Well, after you've been in this fag-end of the universe for a month or
+so you'll learn--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland interrupted him sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you ever see either of them before, Gregson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never until to-day. But there's hope, old man. Surely we can find some
+one in the place who knows them. Wouldn't it be jolly good fun if Jack
+Howland, Esquire, who has never been interested in theaters and girls,
+should come up into these God-forsaken regions and develop a case of
+love at first sight? By the Great North Trail, I tell you it may not be
+as uninteresting for you as it has been for Thorne and me! If I had only
+seen her sooner--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up!&quot; growled Howland, betraying irritability for the first time.
+&quot;Let's go in to supper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. And I move that we investigate these people while we are smoking
+our after-supper cigars. It will pass our time away, at least.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your taste is good, Gregson,&quot; said Howland, recovering his good-humor
+as they seated themselves at one of the rough board tables in the
+dining-room. Inwardly he was convinced it would be best to keep to
+himself the incidents of the past two days and nights. &quot;It was a
+beautiful face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the eyes!&quot; added Gregson, his own gleaming with enthusiasm. &quot;She
+looked at me squarely this afternoon when she and that dark fellow
+passed, and I swear they're the most beautiful eyes I ever saw. And
+her hair--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think that she knew you?&quot; asked Howland quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Gregson hunched his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How the deuce could she know me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then why did she look at you so 'squarely?' Trying to flirt, do you
+suppose?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Surprise shot into Gregson's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By thunder, no, she wasn't flirting!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;I'd stake my life
+on that. A man never got a clearer, more sinless look than she gave me,
+and yet--Why, deuce take it, she <i>stared</i> at me! I didn't see her again
+after that, but the dark fellow was in here half of the afternoon, and
+now that I come to think of it he did show some interest in me. Why
+do you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just curiosity,&quot; replied Howland, &quot;I don't like flirts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Neither do I,&quot; said Gregson musingly. Their supper came on and they
+conversed but little until its end. Howland had watched his companion
+closely and was satisfied that he knew nothing of Croisset or the girl.
+The fact puzzled him more than ever. How Gregson and Thorne, two of the
+best engineers in the country, could voluntarily surrender a task like
+the building of the Hudson Bay Railroad simply because they were &quot;tired
+of the country&quot; was more than he could understand.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until they were about to leave the table that Howland's eyes
+accidentally fell on Gregson's left hand. He gave an exclamation of
+astonishment when he saw that the little finger was missing. Gregson
+jerked the hand to his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little accident,&quot; he explained. &quot;You'll meet 'em up here, Howland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before he could move, the young engineer had caught his arm and was
+looking closely at the hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A curious wound,&quot; he remarked, without looking up. &quot;Funny I didn't
+notice it before. Your finger was cut off lengthwise, and here's the
+scar running half way to your wrist. How did you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped the hand in time to see a nervous flush in the other's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why--er--fact is, Howland, it was shot off several months ago--in an
+accident, of course.&quot; He hurried through the door, continuing to speak
+over his shoulder as he went, &quot;Now for those after-supper cigars and our
+investigation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As they passed from the dining-room into that part of the inn which was
+half bar and half lounging-room, already filled with smoke and a dozen
+or so picturesque citizens of Le Pas, the rough-jowled proprietor of the
+place motioned to Howland and held out a letter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This came while you was at supper, Mr. Howland,&quot; he explained.</p>
+
+<p>The engineer gave an inward start when he saw the writing on the
+envelope, and as he tore it open he turned so that Gregson could see
+neither his face nor the slip of paper which he drew forth. There was no
+name at the bottom of what he read. It was not necessary, for a glance
+had told him that the writing was that of the girl whose face he had
+seen again that night; and her words to him this time, despite his
+caution, drew a low whistle from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forgive me for what I have done,&quot; the note ran. &quot;Believe me now. Your
+life is in danger and you must go back to Etomami to-morrow. If you go
+to the Wekusko camp you will not live to come back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; asked Gregson, edging around him curiously.</p>
+
+<p>Howland crushed the note in his hand and thrust it into one of his
+pockets.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little private affair,&quot; he laughed. &quot;Comes Gregson, let's see what
+we can discover.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the gloom outside one of his hands slipped under his coat and rested
+on the butt of his revolver. Until ten o'clock they mixed casually among
+the populace of Le Pas. Half a hundred people had seen Croisset and his
+beautiful companion, but no one knew anything about them. They had come
+that forenoon on a sledge, had eaten their dinner and supper at the
+cabin of a Scotch tie-cutter named MacDonald, and had left on a sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She was the sweetest thing I ever saw,&quot; exclaimed Mrs. MacDonald
+rapturously. &quot;Only she couldn't talk. Two or three times she wrote
+things to me on a slip of paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Couldn't talk!&quot; repeated Gregson, as the two men walked leisurely back
+to the boarding-house. &quot;What the deuce do you suppose that means, Jack?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not supposing,&quot; replied Howland indifferently. &quot;We've had enough of
+this pretty face, Gregson. I'm going to bed. What time do we start in
+the morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As soon as we've had breakfast--if you're anxious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am. Good night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland went to his room, but it was not to sleep. For hours he sat
+wide-awake, smoking cigar after cigar, and thinking. One by one he went
+over the bewildering incidents of the past two days. At first they had
+stirred his blood with a certain exhilaration--a spice of excitement
+which was not at all unpleasant; but with this excitement there was now
+a peculiar sense of oppression. The attempt that had already been made
+on his life together with the persistent warnings for him to return into
+the South began to have their effect. But Howland was not a man to
+surrender to his fears, if they could be called fears. He was satisfied
+that a mysterious peril of some kind awaited him at the camp on the
+Wekusko, but he gave up trying to fathom the reason for this peril,
+accepting in his businesslike way the fact that it did exist, and that
+in a short time it would probably explain itself. The one puzzling
+factor which he could not drive out of his thoughts was the girl. Her
+sweet face haunted him. At every turn he saw it--now over the table in
+the opium den, now in the white starlight of the trail, again as it had
+looked at him for an instant from the sledge. Vainly he strove to
+discover for himself the lurking of sin in the pure eyes that had seemed
+to plead for his friendship, in the soft lips that had lied to him
+because of their silence. &quot;Please forgive me for what I have done--&quot; He
+unfolded the crumpled note and read the words again and again. &quot;Believe
+me now--&quot; She knew that he knew that she had lied to him, that she had
+lured him into the danger from which she now wished to save him. His
+cheeks burned. If a thousand perils threatened him on the Wekusko he
+would still go. He would meet the girl again. Despite his strongest
+efforts he found it impossible to destroy the vision of her beautiful
+face. The eyes, soft with appeal; the red mouth, quivering, and with
+lips parted as if about to speak to him; the head as he had looked down
+on it with its glory of shining hair--all had burned themselves on his
+soul in a picture too deep to be eradicated. If the wilderness was
+interesting to him before it was doubly so now because that face was a
+part of it, because the secret of its life, of the misery that it had
+half confessed to him, was hidden somewhere out in the black mystery of
+the spruce and balsam forests.</p>
+
+<p>He went to bed, but it was a long time before he fell asleep. It seemed
+to him that he had scarcely closed his eyes when a pounding on the door
+aroused him and he awoke to find the early light of dawn creeping
+through the narrow window of his room. A few minutes later he joined
+Gregson, who was ready for breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sledge and dogs are waiting,&quot; he greeted. As they seated themselves
+at the table he added, &quot;I've changed my mind since last night, Howland.
+I'm not going back with you. It's absolutely unnecessary, for Thorne
+can put you on to everything at the camp, and I'd rather lose six
+months' salary than take that sledge ride again. You won't mind,
+will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland hunched his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To be honest, Gregson, I don't believe you'd be particularly cheerful
+company. What sort of fellow is the driver?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We call him Jackpine--a Cree Indian--and he's the one faithful slave of
+Thorne and myself at Wekusko. Hunts for us, cooks for us, and watches
+after things generally. You'll like him all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland did. When they went out to the sledge after their breakfast he
+gave Jackpine a hearty grip of the hand and the Cree's dark face lighted
+up with something like pleasure when he saw the enthusiasm in the young
+engineer's eyes. When the moment for parting came Gregson pulled his
+companion a little to one side. His eyes shifted nervously and Howland
+saw that he was making a strong effort to assume an indifference which
+was not at all Gregson's natural self.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just a word, Howland,&quot; he said. &quot;You know this is a pretty rough
+country up here--some tough people in it, who wouldn't mind cutting a
+man's throat or sending a bullet through him for a good team of dogs and
+a rifle. I'm just telling you this so you'll be on your guard. Have
+Jackpine watch your camp nights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a low voice and cut himself short when the Indian
+approached. Howland seated himself in the middle of the six-foot
+toboggan, waved his hand to Gregson, then with a wild halloo and a
+snapping of his long caribou-gut whip Jackpine started his dogs on a
+trot down the street, running close beside the sledge. Howland had
+lighted a cigar, and leaning back in a soft mass of furs began to enjoy
+his new experience hugely. Day was just fairly breaking over the forests
+when they turned into the white trail, already beaten hard by the
+passing of many dogs and sledges, that led from Le Pas for a hundred
+miles to the camp on the Wekusko. As they struck the trail the dogs
+strained harder at their traces, with Jackpine's whip curling and
+snapping over their backs until they were leaping swiftly and with
+unbroken rhythm of motion over the snow. Then the Cree gathered in his
+whip and ran close to the leader's flank, his moccasined feet taking the
+short, quick, light steps of the trained forest runner, his chest thrown
+a little out, his eyes on the twisting trail ahead. It was a glorious
+ride, and in the exhilaration of it Howland forgot to smoke the cigar
+that he held between his fingers. His blood thrilled to the tireless
+effort of the grayish-yellow pack of magnificent brutes ahead of him; he
+watched the muscular play of their backs and legs, the eager
+out-reaching of their wolfish heads, their half-gaping jaws, and from
+them he looked at Jackpine. There was no effort in his running. His
+black hair swept back from the gray of his cap; like the dogs there was
+music in his movement, the beauty of strength, of endurance, of manhood
+born to the forests, and when the dogs finally stopped at the foot of a
+huge ridge, panting and half exhausted, Howland quickly leaped from the
+sledge and for the first time spoke to the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was glorious, Jackpine!&quot; he cried. &quot;But, good Lord, man, you'll
+kill the dogs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jackpine grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They go sixt' mile in day lak dat,&quot; He grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sixty miles!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In his admiration for the wolfish looking beasts that were carrying him
+through the wilderness Howland put out a hand to stroke one of them on
+the head. With a warning cry the Indian jerked him back just as the dog
+snapped fiercely at the extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No touch huskie!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Heem half wolf--half dog--work hard
+but no lak to be touch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wow!&quot; exclaimed Howland. &quot;And they're the sweetest looking pups I ever
+laid eyes on. I'm certainly running up against some strange things in
+this country!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was dead tired when night came. And yet never in all his life had he
+enjoyed a day so much as this one. Twenty times he had joined Jackpine
+in running beside the sledge. In their intervals of rest he had even
+learned to snap the thirty-foot caribou-gut lash of the dog-whip. He had
+asked a hundred questions, had insisted on Jackpine's smoking a cigar at
+every stop, and had been so happy and so altogether companionable that
+half of the Cree's hereditary reticence had been swept away before his
+unbounded enthusiasm. He helped to build their balsam shelter for the
+night, ate a huge supper of moose meat, hot-stone biscuits, beans and
+coffee, and then, just as he had stretched himself out in his furs for
+the night, he remembered Gregson's warning. He sat up and called to
+Jackpine, who was putting a fresh log on the big fire in front of
+the shelter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night,
+Jackpine. What do you think about it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a
+grin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson--heem ver' much 'fraid,&quot; he replied. &quot;No bad man here--all down
+there and in camp. We kep' watch evr' night. Heem 'fraid--I guess
+so, mebby.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid of what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Jackpine was silent, half bending over the fire. Then he
+held out his left hand, with the little finger doubled out of sight, and
+pointed to it with his other hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mebby heem finger ax'dent--mebby not,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen eager questions brought no further suggestions from Jackpine. In
+fact, no sooner had the words fallen from his driver's lips than Howland
+saw that the Indian was sorry he had spoken them. What he had said
+strengthened the conviction which was slowly growing within him. He had
+wondered at Gregson's strange demeanor, his evident anxiety to get out
+of the country, and lastly at his desire not to return to the camp on
+the Wekusko with him. There was but one solution that came to him. In
+some way which he could not fathom Gregson was associated with the
+mystery which enveloped him, and adding the senior engineer's
+nervousness to the significance of Jackpine's words he was confident
+that the missing finger had become a factor in the enigma. How should he
+find Thorne? Surely he would give him an explanation--if there was an
+explanation to give. Or was it possible that they would leave him
+without warning to face a situation which was driving them back to
+civilization?</p>
+
+<p>He went to sleep, giving no further thought to the guarding of the camp.
+A piping hot breakfast was ready when Jackpine awakened him, and once
+more the exhilarating excitement of their swift race through the forests
+relieved him of the uncomfortable mental tension under which he began to
+find himself. During the whole of the day Jackpine urged the dogs
+almost to the limit of their endurance, and early in the afternoon
+assured his companion that they would reach the Wekusko by nightfall. It
+was already dark when they came out of the forest into a broad stretch
+of cutting beyond which Howland caught the glimmer of scattered lights.
+At the farther edge of the clearing the Cree brought his dogs to a halt
+close to a large log-built cabin half sheltered among the trees. It was
+situated several hundred yards from the nearest of the lights ahead, and
+the unbroken snow about it showed that it had not been used as a
+habitation for some time. Jackpine drew a key from his pocket and
+without a word unlocked and swung open the heavy door.</p>
+
+<p>Damp, cold air swept into the faces of the two as they stood for a
+moment peering into the gloom. Howland could hear the Cree chuckling in
+his inimitable way as he struck a match, and as a big hanging oil lamp
+flared slowly into light he turned a grinning face to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson um Thorne--heem mak' thees cabin when first kam to camp,&quot; he
+said softly. &quot;No be near much noise--fine place in woods where be quiet
+nights. Live here time--then Gregson um Thorne go live in camp. Say too
+far 'way from man. But that not so. Thorne 'fraid--Gregson 'fraid--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He hunched his shoulders again as he opened the door of the big box
+stove which stood in the room.</p>
+
+<p>Howland asked no questions, but stared about him. Everywhere he saw
+evidences of the taste and one-time tenancies of the two senior
+engineers. Heavy bear rugs lay on the board floor; the log walls, hewn
+almost to polished smoothness, were hung with half a dozen pictures; in
+one corner was a bookcase still filled with books, in another a lounge
+covered with furs, and in this side of the room was a door which Howland
+supposed must open into the sleeping apartment. A fire was roaring in
+the big stove before he finished his inspection and as he squared his
+shivering back to the heat he pulled out his pipe and smiled cheerfully
+at Jackpine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid, eh? And am I to stay here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson um Thorne say yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Jackpine, you just hustle over to the camp and tell Thorne I'm
+here, will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the Indian hesitated, then went out and closed the door
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid!&quot; exclaimed Howland when he had gone. &quot;Now what the devil are
+they afraid of? It's deuced queer, Gregson--and ditto, Thorne. If you're
+not the cowards I'm half believing you to be you won't leave me in the
+dark to face something from which you are running away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He lighted a small lamp and opened the door leading into the other room.
+It was, as he had surmised, the sleeping chamber. The bed, a single
+chair and a mirror and stand were its sole furnishing.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to the larger room, he threw off his coat and hat and seated
+himself comfortably before the fire. Ten minutes later the door opened
+again and Jackpine entered. He was supporting another figure by the arm,
+and as Howland stared into the bloodless face of the man who came with
+him, he could not repress the exclamation of astonishment which rose to
+his lips. Three months before he had last seen Thorne in Chicago; a man
+in the prime of life, powerfully built, as straight as a tree, the most
+efficient and highest paid man in the company's employ. How often had he
+envied Thorne! For years he had been his ideal of a great engineer.
+And now--</p>
+
+<p>He stood speechless. Slowly, as if the movement gave him pain, Thorne
+slipped off the great fur coat from about his shoulders. One of his arms
+was suspended in a sling. His huge shoulders were bent, his eyes wild
+and haggard. The smile that came to his lips as he held out a hand to
+Howland gave to his death-white face an appearance even more ghastly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, Jack!&quot; he greeted. &quot;What's the matter, man? Do I look like a
+ghost?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter, Thorne? I found Gregson half dying at Le Pas, and
+now you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a wonder you're not reading my name on a little board slab instead
+of seeing yours truly in flesh and blood, Jack,&quot; laughed Thorne
+nervously. &quot;A ton of rock, man--a ton of rock, and I was under it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Over Thorne's shoulder the young engineer caught a glimpse of the Cree's
+face. A dark flash had shot into his eyes. His teeth gleamed for an
+instant between his tense lips in something that might have been
+a sneer.</p>
+
+<p>Thorne sat down, rubbing his hands before the fire.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We've been unfortunate, Jack,&quot; he said slowly. &quot;Gregson and I have had
+the worst kind of luck since the day we struck this camp, and we're no
+longer fit for the job. It will take us six months to get on our feet
+again. You'll find everything here in good condition. The line is blazed
+straight to the bay; we've got three hundred good men, plenty of
+supplies, and so far as I know you'll not find a disaffected hand on
+the Wekusko. Probably Gregson and I will take hold of the Le Pas end of
+the line in the spring. It's certainly up to you to build the roadway
+to the bay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry things have gone badly,&quot; replied Howland. He leaned forward
+until his face was close to his companion's. &quot;Thorne, is there a man up
+here named Croisset--or a girl called Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He watched the senior engineer closely. Nothing to confirm his
+suspicions came into Thorne's face. Thorne looked up, a little surprised
+at the tone of the other's voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not that I know of, Jack. There may be a man named Croisset among our
+three hundred workers--you can tell by looking at the pay-roll. There
+are fifteen or twenty married men among us and they have families.
+Gregson knows more about the girls than I. Anything particular?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just a word I've got for them--if they're here,&quot; replied Howland
+carelessly. &quot;Are these my quarters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you like them. When I got hurt we moved up among the men. Brought us
+into closer touch with the working end, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You and Gregson must have been laid up at about the same time,&quot; said
+the young engineer. &quot;That was a painful wound of Gregson's. I wonder who
+the deuce it was who shot him? Funny that a man like Gregson should have
+an enemy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thorne sat up with a jerk. There came the rattle of a pan from the
+stove, and Howland turned his head in time to see Jackpine staring at
+him as though he had exploded a mine under his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who shot him?&quot; gasped the senior engineer. &quot;Why--er--didn't Gregson
+tell you that it was an accident?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why should he lie, Thorne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A faint flush swept into the other's pallid face. For a moment there was
+a penetrating glare in his eyes as he looked at Howland. Jackpine still
+stood silent and motionless beside the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He told me that it was an accident,&quot; said Thorne at last.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Funny,&quot; was all that Howland said, turning to the Indian as though the
+matter was of no importance. &quot;Ah, Jackpine, I'm glad to see the
+coffee-pot on. I've got a box of the blackest and mildest Porto Ricans
+you ever laid eyes on in my kit, Thorne, and we'll open 'em up for a
+good smoke after supper. Hello, why have you got boards nailed over
+that window?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Howland noticed that the thin muslin curtain, which
+he thought had screened a window, concealed, in place of a window, a
+carefully fitted barricade of plank. A sudden thrill shot through him as
+he rose to examine it. With his back toward Thorne he said, half
+laughing, &quot;Perhaps Gregson was afraid that the fellow who clipped off
+his finger would get him through the window, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pretended not to perceive the effect of his words on the senior
+engineer. The two sat down to supper and for an hour after they had
+finished they smoked and talked on the business of the camp. It was ten
+o'clock when Thorne and Jackpine left the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had they gone than Howland closed and barred the door, lighted
+another cigar, and began pacing rapidly up and down the room. Already
+there were developments. Gregson had lied to him about his finger.
+Thorne had lied to him about his own injuries, whatever they were. He
+was certain of these two things--and of more. The two senior engineers
+were not leaving the Wekusko because of mere dissatisfaction with the
+work and country. They were fleeing. And for some reason they were
+keeping from him the real motive for their flight. Was it possible that
+they were deliberately sacrificing him in order to save themselves? He
+could not bring himself to believe this, notwithstanding the evidence
+against them. Both were men of irreproachable honor. Thorne,
+especially, was a man of indomitable nerve--a man who would be the last
+in the world to prove treacherous to a business associate or a friend.
+He was sure that neither of them knew of Croisset or of the beautiful
+girl whom he had met at Prince Albert, which led him to believe that
+there were other characters in the strange plot in which he had become
+involved besides those whom he had encountered on the Great North Trail.
+Again he examined the barricaded window and he was more than ever
+convinced that his chance hit at Thorne had struck true.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired from his long day's travel but little inclination to sleep
+came to him, and stretching himself out on the lounge with his head and
+shoulders bolstered up with furs, he continued to smoke and think. He
+was surprised when a little clock tinkled the hour of eleven. He had not
+seen the clock before. Now he listened to the faint monotonous ticking
+it made close to his head until he felt an impelling drowsiness creeping
+over him and he closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when it struck
+again--softly, and yet with sufficient loudness to arouse him. It had
+struck twelve.</p>
+
+<p>With an effort Howland overcame his drowsiness and dragged himself to a
+sitting posture, knowing that he should undress and go to bed. The lamp
+was still burning brightly and he arose to turn down the wick. Suddenly
+he stopped. To his dulled senses there came distinctly the sound of a
+knock at the door. For a few moments he waited, silent and motionless.
+It came again, louder than before, and yet in it there was something of
+caution. It was not the heavy tattoo of one who had come to awaken him
+on a matter of business.</p>
+
+<p>Who could be his midnight visitor? Softly Howland went back to his heavy
+coat and slipped his small revolver into his hip pocket. The knock came
+again. Then he walked to the door, shot back the bolt, and, with his
+right hand gripping the butt of his pistol, flung it wide open.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stood transfixed, staring speechlessly at a white,
+startled face lighted up by the glow of the oil lamp. Bewildered to the
+point of dumbness, he backed slowly, holding the door open, and there
+entered the one person in all the world whom he wished most to see--she
+who had become so strangely a part of his life since that first night at
+Prince Albert, and whose sweet face was holding a deeper meaning for him
+with every hour that he lived. He closed the door and turned, still
+without speaking; and, impelled by a sudden spirit that sent the blood
+thrilling through his veins, he held out both hands to the girl for whom
+he now knew that he was willing to face all of the perils that might
+await him between civilization and the bay.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE LOVE OF A MAN</h3>
+
+<p>For a moment the girl hesitated, her ungloved hands clenched on her
+breast, her bloodless face tense with a strange grief, as she saw the
+outstretched arms of the man whom her treachery had almost lured to his
+death. Then, slowly, she approached, and once more Howland held her
+hands clasped to him and gazed questioningly down into the wild eyes
+that stared into his own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why did you run away from me?&quot; were the first words that he spoke. They
+came from him gently, as if he had known her for a long time. In them
+there was no tone of bitterness; in the warmth of his gray eyes there
+was none of the denunciation which she might have expected. He repeated
+the question, bending his head until he felt the soft touch of her hair
+on his lips. &quot;Why did you run away from me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him, her eyes searching his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I lied to you,&quot; she breathed, her words coming to him in a whisper. &quot;I
+lied--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The words caught in her throat. He saw her struggling to control
+herself, to stop the quivering of her lip, the tremble in her voice. In
+another moment she had broken down, and with a low, sobbing cry sank in
+a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms. As Howland saw
+the convulsive trembling of her shoulders, his soul was flooded with a
+strange joy--not at this sight of her grief, but at the knowledge that
+she was sorry for what she had done. Softly he approached. The girl's
+fur cap had fallen off. Her long, shining braid was half undone and its
+silken strands fell over her shoulder and glistened in the lamp-glow on
+the table. His hand hesitated, and then fell gently on the bowed head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true,&quot; he said.
+&quot;I believe that it was necessary for you to--lie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just once his hand stroked her soft hair, then, catching himself, he
+went to the opposite side of the narrow table and sat down. When the
+girl raised her head there was a bright flush in her cheeks. He could
+see the damp stain of tears on her face, but there was no sign of them
+now in the eyes that seemed seeking in his own the truth of his words,
+spoken a few moments before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You believe that?&quot; she questioned eagerly. &quot;You believe that it was
+necessary for me to--lie?&quot; She leaned a little toward him, her fingers
+twining themselves about one another nervously, as she waited for him
+to answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Howland. He spoke the one word with a finality that sent a
+gladness into the soft brown eyes across from him. &quot;I believe that you
+<i>had</i> to lie to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His low voice was vibrant with unbounded faith. Other words were on his
+lips, but he forced them back. A part of what he might have said--a part
+of the strange, joyous tumult in his heart--betrayed itself in his face,
+and before that betrayal the girl drew back slowly, the color fading
+from her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I believe you will not lie to me again,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>She rose to her feet and flung back her hair, looking down on him in the
+manner of one who had never before met this kind of man, and knew not
+what to make of him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I will not lie to you again,&quot; she replied, more firmly. &quot;Do you
+believe me now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then go back into the South. I have come to tell you that again
+to-night--to <i>make</i> you believe me. You should have turned back at Le
+Pas. If you don't go--to-morrow--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her voice seemed to choke her, and she stood without finishing, leaving
+him to understand what she had meant to say. In an instant Howland was
+at her side. Once more his old, resolute fighting blood was up. Firmly
+he took her hands again, his eyes compelling her to look up at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I don't go to-morrow--they will kill me,&quot; he completed, repeating
+the words of her note to him. &quot;Now, if you are going to be honest with
+me, tell me this--<i>who</i> is going to kill me, and <i>why</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her as she answered,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I said that I would not lie to you again. If I can not tell you the
+truth I will tell you nothing. It is impossible for me to say why your
+life is in danger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He seated her again in the chair beside the table and sat down opposite
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you tell me who you are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her
+hair. &quot;Will you?&quot; he persisted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I tell you who I am,&quot; she said at last, &quot;you will know who is
+threatening your life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stated at her in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil, you say!&quot; The words slipped from his lips before he could
+stop them. For a second time the girl rose from her chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot; she entreated. &quot;You will go to-morrow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her hand was on the latch of the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp.
+Laughing, he came toward her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, surely I am going--to see you safely home.&quot; Suddenly he turned
+back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he
+returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can not go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because--&quot; He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
+&quot;Because they will kill you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad that you care,&quot; he whispered to her softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must go!&quot; she still persisted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With you, yes,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no--to-morrow. You must go back to Le Pas--back into the South.
+Will you promise me that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps,&quot; he said. &quot;I will tell you soon.&quot; She surrendered to the
+determination in his voice and allowed him to pass out into the night
+with her. Swiftly she led him along a path that ran into the deep gloom
+of the balsam and spruce. He could hear the throbbing of her heart and
+her quick, excited breathing as she stopped, one of her hands clasping
+him nervously by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not very far--from here,&quot; she whispered &quot;You must not go with me.
+If they saw me with you--at this hour--&quot; He felt her shuddering
+against him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only a little farther,&quot; he begged.</p>
+
+<p>She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than
+before, until they came to where a few faint lights in the camp were
+visible ahead of them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--now you must go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have not promised,&quot; she entreated. &quot;Will you go--to-morrow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him in the gloom
+Howland saw again the strange, sweet power that had taken possession of
+his soul. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known
+this girl for only a few hours, that until to-night he had heard no word
+pass from her lips. He was conscious only that in the space of those few
+hours something had come into his life which he had never known before;
+and a deep longing to tell her this, to take her sweet face between his
+hands, as they stood in the gloom of the forest, and to confess to her
+that she had become more to him than a passing vision in a strange
+wilderness filled him. That night he had forgotten half of the strenuous
+lesson he had striven years to master; success, ambition, the mere joy
+of achievement, were for the first time sunk under a greater thing for
+him--the pulsating, human presence of this girl; and as he looked down
+into her face, pleading with him still in its white, silent terror, he
+forgot, too, what this woman was or might have been, knowing only that
+to him she had opened a new and glorious world filled with a promise
+that stirred his blood like sharp wine. He crushed her hands once more
+to his breast as he had done on the Great North Trail, holding her so
+close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom against him. He
+spoke no word--and still her eyes pleaded with him to go. Suddenly he
+freed one of his hands and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and
+turned her face gently, until what dim light came down from the stars
+above glowed in the beauty of her eyes. In his own face she saw that
+which he had not dared to speak, and from her lips there came a soft
+little sobbing cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I have not promised--and I will not promise,&quot; he said, holding her
+face so that she could not look away from him. &quot;Forgive me
+for--for--doing this--&quot; And before she could move he caught her for a
+moment close in his arms, holding her so that he felt the quick beating
+of her heart against his own, the sweep of her hair and breath in his
+face. &quot;This is why I will not go back,&quot; he cried softly. &quot;It is because
+I love you--love you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him
+her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will forgive me!&quot; he begged. &quot;I do not mean to do wrong. Only, you
+must know why I shall not go back into the South.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
+Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke,
+but its sweetness thrilled him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I?&quot; He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. &quot;Very soon you will
+forget that you have--ever--seen--me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the
+girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go! Go!&quot; she cried tensely. &quot;Hurry back to the cabin! Lock your
+door--and don't come out again to-night! Oh, please, if you love me,
+please, go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish
+dark shadows between the thinned walls of the forest. He laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not going to run, little girl,&quot; he whispered. &quot;See?&quot; He drew his
+revolver so that it gleamed in the light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>With a frightened gasp the girl pulled him into the thick bushes beside
+the path until they stood a dozen paces from where those who were coming
+down the trail would pass. There was a silence as Howland slipped his
+weapon back into its holster. Then the voices came again, very near, and
+at the sound of them his companion shrank close to him, her hands
+clutching his arms, her white, frightened face raised to him in piteous
+appeal. His blood leaped through him like fire. He knew that the girl
+had recognized the voices--that they who were about to pass him were the
+mysterious enemies against whom she had warned him. Perhaps they were
+the two who had attacked him on the Great North Trail. His muscles grew
+tense. The girl could feel them straining under her hands, could feel
+his body grow rigid and alert. His hand fell again on his revolver; he
+made a step past her, his eyes flashing, his face as set as iron.
+Almost sobbing, she pressed herself against his breast, holding
+him back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't--don't--don't--&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>They could hear the cracking of brush under the feet of those who were
+approaching. Suddenly the sounds ceased not twenty paces away.</p>
+
+<p>From his arms the girl's hands rose slowly to his shoulders, to his
+face, caressingly, pleadingly; her beautiful eyes glowed, half with
+terror, half with a prayer to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't!&quot; she breathed again, so close that her sweet breath fell warm on
+his face. &quot;Don't--if you--if you care for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gently he drew her close in his arms, crushing her face to his breast,
+kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I love you,&quot; he whispered again and again.</p>
+
+<p>The steps were resumed, the voices died away. Then there came a pressure
+against his breast, a gentle resistance, and he opened his arms so that
+the girl drew back from him. Her lips were smiling at him, and in that
+smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and he
+could see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks
+and a dazzling glow into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are gone,&quot; she said tremblingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; they are gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stood looking down into her glowing face in silence. Then, &quot;They are
+gone,&quot; he repeated. &quot;They were the men who tried to kill me at Prince
+Albert. I have let them go--for you. Will you tell me your name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--that much--now. It is Meleese.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The name fell from him sharply. In an instant there recurred to him all
+that Croisset had said, and there almost came from his lips the
+half-breed's words, which had burned themselves in his memory, &quot;Perhaps
+you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the
+little Meleese.&quot; What had Croisset meant?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese,&quot; he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--Meleese--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew back from him slowly, the color fading from her cheeks; and as
+she saw the light in his eyes, there burst from her a short,
+stifled cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--you understand--you understand why you must go back into the
+South,&quot; she almost sobbed. &quot;Oh, I have sinned to tell you my name! But
+you will go, won't you? You will go--for me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For you I would go to the end of the earth!&quot; interrupted Howland, his
+pale face near to her. &quot;But you must tell me why. I don't understand
+you. I don't know why those men tried to kill me in Prince Albert. I
+don't know why my life is in danger here. Croisset told me that my
+warning back there came from a girl named Meleese. I didn't understand
+him. I don't understand you. It is all a mystery to me. So far as I know
+I have never had enemies. I never heard your name until Croisset spoke
+it. What did he mean? What do you mean? Why do you want to drive me
+from the Wekusko? Why is my life in danger? It is for you to tell me
+these things. I have been honest with you. I love you. I will fight for
+you if it is necessary--but you must tell me--tell me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His breath was hot in her face, and she stared at him as if what she
+heard robbed her of the power of speech.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Won't you tell me?&quot; he whispered, more softly. &quot;Meleese--&quot; She made no
+effort to resist him as he drew her once more in his arms, crushing her
+sweet lips to his own. &quot;Meleese, won't you tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head,
+looking squarely into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I tell you,&quot; she said softly, &quot;and in telling you I betray those
+whom I love, will you promise to bring harm to none of them, but go--go
+back into the South?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And leave you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--and leave me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was the faintest tremor of a sob in the voice which she was
+trying so hard to control. His arms tightened about her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will swear to do what is best for you--and for me,&quot; he replied. &quot;I
+will swear to bring harm to none whom you care to shield. But I will not
+promise to leave you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and
+stood back from him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will think--think--&quot; she whispered quickly. &quot;Perhaps I will tell you
+to-morrow night--here--if you will keep your oath and do what is best
+for you--and for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I swear it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will meet you here--at this time--when the others are asleep.
+But--to-morrow--you will be careful--careful--&quot; Unconsciously she half
+reached her arms out to him as she turned toward the path. &quot;You will be
+careful--to-morrow--promise me that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Like a shadow she was gone. He heard her quick steps running up the
+path, saw her form as it disappeared in the forest gloom. For a few
+moments longer he stood, hardly breathing, until he knew that she had
+gone beyond his hearing. Then he walked swiftly along the footpath that
+led to the cabin.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE BLOWING OF THE COYOTE</h3>
+
+<p>In the new excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being,
+Howland forgot his own danger, forgot his old caution and the fears that
+gave birth to it, forgot everything in these moments but Meleese and his
+own great happiness. For he was happy, happier than he had ever been in
+his life, happier than he had ever expected to be. He was conscious of
+no madness in this strange, new joy that swept through his being like a
+fire; he did not stop to weigh with himself the unreasoning impulses
+that filled him. He had held Meleese in his arms, he had told her of his
+love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness he was
+thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes, which had spoken
+faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. And his faith in her had
+become as limitless as the blue space above him. He had known her for
+but a few hours and yet in that time it seemed to him that he had lived
+longer than in all of the years that had gone before. She had lied to
+him, had divulged only a part of her identity--and yet he knew that
+there were reasons for these things.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow night he would see her again, and then--</p>
+
+<p>What would she tell him? Whatever it was, it was to be a reward for his
+own love. He knew that, by the half-fearing tremble of her voice, the
+sobbing catch of her breath, the soft glow in her eyes. Impelled by that
+love, would she confide in him? And then--would he go back into
+the South?</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, softly, joyfully.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, he would go back into the South--he would go to the other end of
+the earth, if she would go with him. What was the building of this
+railroad now to that other great thing that had come into his life? For
+the first time he saw duty in another light. There were others who
+could build the road; success, fortune, ambition--in the old way he had
+seen them--were overshadowed now by this love of a girl.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped and lighted his pipe. The fragrant odor of the tobacco, the
+flavor of the warm smoke in his mouth, helped to readjust him, to cool
+his heated brain. The old fighting instincts leaped into life again. Go
+into the South? He asked himself the question once more, and in the
+gloomy silence of the forest his low laugh fell again as he clenched his
+hands in anticipation of what was ahead of him. No--he would build the
+road! And in building it he would win this girl, if it was given for him
+to possess her.</p>
+
+<p>His saner thoughts brought back his caution. He went more slowly toward
+the cabin, keeping in the deep shadows and stopping now and then to
+listen. At the edge of the clearing he paused for a long time. There was
+no sign of life about the cabin abandoned by Gregson and Thorne. It was
+probable that the two men who had passed along the path had returned to
+the camp by another trail, and still keeping as much within the shadows
+as possible he went to the door and entered.</p>
+
+<p>With his feet propped in front of the big box stove sat Jackpine. The
+Indian rose as Howland entered, and something in the sullen gloom of his
+face caused the young engineer to eye him questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any one been here, Jackpine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old sledge-driver gave his head a negative shake and hunched his
+shoulders, pointing at the same time to the table, on which lay a
+carefully folded piece of paper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thorne,&quot; he grunted.</p>
+
+<p>Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp, and read:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;MY DEAR HOWLAND:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I forgot to tell you that our mail sledge starts for Le Pas to-morrow
+at noon, and as I'm planning on going down with it I want you to get
+over as early as you can in the morning. Can put you on to everything in
+the camp between eight and twelve. THORNE.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where do you sleep, Jackpine?&quot; he asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cabin in edge of woods,&quot; replied the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How about breakfast? Thorne hasn't put me on to the grub line yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thorne say you eat with heem in mornin'. I come early--wake you. After
+heem go--to-morrow--eat here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You needn't wake me,&quot; said Howland, throwing off his coat. &quot;I'll find
+Thorne--probably before he's up. Good night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jackpine had half opened the door, and for a moment the engineer caught
+a glimpse of his dark, grinning face looking back over his shoulder. He
+hesitated, as if about to speak, and then with a mouthful of his
+inimitable chuckles, he went out.</p>
+
+<p>After bolting the door Howland lighted a small table lamp, entered the
+sleeping room and prepared for bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Got to have a little sleep no matter if things are going off like a
+Fourth of July celebration,&quot; he grumbled, and rolled between the sheets.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of his old habit of rising with the breaking of dawn it was
+Jackpine who awakened him a few hours later. The camp was hardly astir
+when he followed the Indian down among the log cabins to Thorne's
+quarters. The senior engineer was already dressed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sorry to hustle you so, Howland,&quot; he greeted, &quot;but I've got to go down
+with the mail. Just between you and me I don't believe the camp doctor
+is much on his job. I've got a deuced bad shoulder and a worse arm, and
+I'm going down to a good surgeon as fast as I can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Didn't they send Weston up with you?&quot; asked Howland. He knew that
+Weston was the best &quot;accident man&quot; in the company's employ.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--Weston,&quot; replied the senior, eying him sharply. &quot;I don't mean to
+say he's not a good man, Howland,&quot; he amended quickly. &quot;But he doesn't
+quite seem to take hold of this hurt of mine. By the way, I looked over
+our pay-roll and there is no Croisset on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an hour after breakfast the two men were busy with papers, maps and
+drawings relative to the camp work. Howland had kept in close touch with
+operations from Chicago and by the time they were ready to leave for
+outside inspection he was confident that he could take hold without the
+personal assistance of either Gregson or Thorne. Before that hour had
+passed he was certain of at least one other thing--that it was not
+incompetency that was taking the two senior engineers back to the home
+office. He had half expected to find the working-end in the same
+disorganized condition as its chiefs. But if Gregson and Thorne had been
+laboring under a tremendous strain of some kind it was not reflected in
+the company's work, as shown in the office records which the latter had
+spread out before him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a big six months' work,&quot; said Thorne when they had finished.
+&quot;Good Lord, man, when we first came up here a jack-rabbit couldn't hop
+through this place where you're sitting, and now see what we've got!
+Fifty cabins, four mess-halls, two of the biggest warehouses north of
+Winnipeg, a post-office, a hospital, three blacksmith shops and--a
+ship-yard!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A ship-yard!&quot; exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure, with a fifty-ton ship half built and frozen stiff in the ice. You
+can finish her in the spring and you'll find her mighty useful for
+bringing supplies from the head of the Wekusko. We're using horses on
+the ice now. Had a deuced hard time in getting fifty of 'em up from Le
+Pas. And besides all this, we've got six miles of road-bed built to the
+south and three to the north. We've got a sub-camp at each working-end,
+but most of the men still prefer to come in at night.&quot; He dragged
+himself slowly and painfully to his feet as a knock sounded at the door.
+&quot;That's MacDonald, our camp superintendent,&quot; he explained. &quot;Told him to
+be here at eight. He's a corker for taking hold of things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little, wiry, red-headed man hopped in as Thorne threw open the door.
+The moment his eyes fell on Howland he sprang forward with outstretched
+hand, smiling and bobbing his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland, of course!&quot; he cried. &quot;Glad to see you! Five minutes
+late--awful sorry--but they're having the devil's own time over at a
+coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a
+cricket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus tell me
+if Jackpine brought me the cigarettes from Le Pas. If he forgot them, as
+the mail did, I'll have his life as sure--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He brought them,&quot; said Thorne. &quot;But how about this coyote, Mac? I
+thought it was ready to fire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So it is--now. The south ridge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.
+We'll blow up the big north mountains sometime to-night. It'll make a
+glorious fireworks--one hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder and
+four fifty-pound cases of dynamite--and if you can't walk that far,
+Thorne, we'll take you up on a sledge. Mustn't allow you to miss it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the mail. That's why
+I want you with Howland and me this morning. It will be up to you to get
+him acquainted with every detail in camp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully!&quot; exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing his hands with
+brisk enthusiasm. &quot;Greggy and Thorne have done some remarkable things,
+Mr. Howland. You'll open your eyes when you see 'em! Talk about building
+railroads! We've got 'em all beat a thousand ways--tearing through
+forests, swamps and those blooming ridge-mountains--and here we are
+pretty near up at the end of the earth. The new Trans-continental isn't
+in it with us! The--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ring off, Mac!&quot; exclaimed Thorne; and Howland found himself laughing
+down into the red, freckled face of the superintendent. He liked this
+man immensely from the first.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a bunch of live wires, double-charged all the time,&quot; said Thorne
+in a low voice as MacDonald went out ahead of them. &quot;Always like
+that--happy as a boy most of the time, loved by the men, but the very
+devil himself when he's riled. Don't know what this camp would do
+without him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This same thought occurred to Howland a dozen times during the next two
+hours. MacDonald seemed to be the life and law of the camp, and he
+wondered more and more at Thorne's demeanor. The camp chiefs and gang
+foremen whom they met seemed to stand in a certain awe of the senior
+engineer, but it was at the little red-headed Scotchman's cheery words
+that their eyes lighted with enthusiasm. This was not like the old
+Thorne, who had been the eye, the ear and the tongue of the company's
+greatest engineering works for a decade past, and whose boundless
+enthusiasm and love of work had been the largest factors in the winning
+of fame that was more than national. He began to note that there was a
+strange nervousness about Thorne when they were among the men, an uneasy
+alertness in his eyes, as though he were looking for some particular
+face among those they encountered. MacDonald's shrewd eyes observed his
+perplexity, and once he took an opportunity to whisper:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess it's about time for Thorne to get back into civilization.
+There's something bad in his system. Weston told me yesterday that his
+injuries are coming along finely. I don't understand it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little later they returned with Thorne to his room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want Howland to see this south coyote go up,&quot; said MacDonald. &quot;Can
+you spare him? We'll be back before noon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That will give me
+time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland fancied that there was a certain tone of relief in the senior's
+voice, but he made no mention of it to the superintendent as they walked
+swiftly to the scene of the &quot;blow-out.&quot; The coyote was ready for firing
+when they arrived. The coyote itself--a tunnel of fifty feet dug into
+the solid rock of the mountain and terminating in a chamber packed with
+explosives--was closed by masses of broken rock, rammed tight, and
+MacDonald showed his companion where the electric wire passed to the
+fuse within.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a confounded mystery to me why Thorne doesn't care to see this
+ridge blown up!&quot; he exclaimed after they had finished the inspection.
+&quot;We've been at work for three months drilling this coyote, and the
+bigger one to the north. There are four thousand square yards of rock to
+come out of there, and six thousand out of the other. You don't see
+shots like those three times in a lifetime, and there'll not be another
+for us between here and the bay. What's the matter with Thorne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for a reply MacDonald walked swiftly in the direction of
+a ridge to the right. Already guards had been thrown out on all sides of
+the mountain and their thrilling warnings of &quot;Fire--Fire--Fire,&quot; shouted
+through megaphones of birch-bark, echoed with ominous meaning through
+the still wilderness, where for the time all work had ceased. On the top
+of the ridge half a hundred of the workmen had already assembled, and as
+Howland and the superintendent came among them they fell back from
+around a big, flat boulder on which was stationed the electric battery.
+MacDonald's face was flushed and his eyes snapped like dragonflies as he
+pointed to a tiny button.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God, but I can't understand why Thorne doesn't care to see this,&quot; he
+said again. &quot;Think of it, man--seven thousand five hundred pounds of
+powder and two hundred of dynamite! A touch of this button, a flash
+along the wire, and the fuse is struck. Then, four or five minutes, and
+up goes a mountain that has stood here since the world began. Isn't it
+glorious?&quot; He straightened himself and took off his hat. &quot;Mr. Howland,
+will you press the button?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a strange thrill Howland bent over the battery, his eyes turned to
+the mass of rock looming sullen and black half a mile away, as if
+bidding defiance in the face of impending fate. Tremblingly his finger
+pressed on the little white knob, and a silence like that of death fell
+on those who watched. One minute--two--three--five passed, while in the
+bowels of the mountain the fuse was sizzling to its end. Then there came
+a puff, something like a cloud of dust rising skyward, but without
+sound; and before its upward belching had ceased a tongue of flame
+spurted out of its crest--and after that, perhaps two seconds later,
+came the explosion. There was a rumbling and a jarring, as if the earth
+were convulsed under foot; volumes of dense black smoke shot upward,
+shutting the mountain in an impenetrable pall of gloom; and in an
+instant these rolling, twisting volumes of black became lurid, and an
+explosion like that of a thousand great guns rent the air. As fast as
+the eye could follow, sheets of flame shot out of the sea of smoke,
+climbing higher and higher, in lightning flashes, until the lurid
+tongues licked the air a quarter of a mile above the startled
+wilderness. Explosion followed explosion, some of them coming in hollow,
+reverberating booms, others sounding as if in mid-air. The heavens were
+filled with hurtling rocks; solid masses of granite ten feet square were
+thrown a hundred feet away; rocks weighing a ton were hurled still
+farther, as if they were no more than stones flung by the hand of a
+giant; chunks that would have crashed from the roof to the basement of a
+sky-scraper dropped a third and nearly a half a mile away. For three
+minutes the frightful convulsions continued. Then the lurid lights died
+out of the pall of smoke, and the pall itself began to settle. Howland
+felt a grip on his arm. Dumbly he turned and looked into the white,
+staring face of the superintendent. His ears tingled, every fiber in him
+seemed unstrung. MacDonald's voice came to him strange and weird.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think of that, Howland?&quot; The two men gripped hands, and
+when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn
+and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred
+the path of the new road to the bay.</p>
+
+<p>Howland talked but little on their way back to camp. The scene that he
+had just witnessed affected him strangely; it stirred once more within
+him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither
+found voice in words. He was glad when the dinner was over at Thorne's,
+and with the going of the mail sledge and the senior engineer there came
+over him a still deeper sense of joy. Now <i>he</i> was in charge, it was
+<i>his</i> road from that hour on. He crushed MacDonald's hand in a grip that
+meant more than words when they parted. In his own cabin he threw off
+his coat and hat, lighted his pipe, and tried to realize just what this
+all meant for him. He was in charge--in charge of the greatest railroad
+building job on earth--<i>he</i>, Jack Howland, who less than twenty years
+ago was a barefooted, half-starved urchin peddling papers in the streets
+where he was now famous! And now what was this black thing that had come
+up to threaten his chances just as he had about won his great fight? He
+clenched his hands as he thought again of what had already happened--the
+cowardly attempt on his life, the warnings, and his blood boiled to
+fever heat. That night--after he had seen Meleese--he would know what to
+do. But he would not be driven away, as Gregson and Thorne had been
+driven. He was determined on that.</p>
+
+<p>The gloom of night falls early in the great northern mid-winter, and it
+was already growing dusk when there came the sound of a voice outside,
+followed a moment later by a loud knock at the door. At Howland's
+invitation the door opened and the head and shoulders of a man appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Something has gone wrong out at the north coyote, sir, and Mr.
+MacDonald wants you just as fast as you can get out there,&quot; he said. &quot;He
+sent me down for you with a sledge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing,&quot; said Howland,
+putting on his hat and coat. &quot;What's the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible
+sweat to see you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later the sledge drew up close to the place where Howland
+had seen a score of men packing bags of powder and dynamite earlier in
+the day. Half a dozen lanterns were burning among the rocks, but there
+was no sign of movement or life. The engineer's companion gave a sudden
+sharp crack of his long whip and in response to it there came a muffled
+halloo from out of the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's MacDonald, sir. You'll find him right up there near that second
+light, where the coyote opens up. He's grilling the life out of half a
+dozen men in the chamber, where he found the dynamite on top of the
+powder instead of under it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right!&quot; called back Howland, starting up among the rocks. Hardly
+had he taken a dozen steps when a dark object shot out behind him and,
+fell with crushing force on his head. With, a groaning cry he fell
+forward on his face. For a few moments he was conscious of voices about
+him; he knew that he was being lifted in the arms of men, and that after
+a time they were carrying him so that his feet dragged on the ground.
+After that he seemed to be sinking down--down--down--until he lost all
+sense of existence in a chaos of inky blackness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE HOUR OF DEATH</h3>
+
+<p>A red, unwinking eye staring at him fixedly from out of impenetrable
+gloom--an ogreish, gleaming thing that brought life back into him with a
+thrill of horror--was Howland's first vision of returning consciousness.
+It was dead in front of him, on a level with his face--a ball of yellow
+fire that seemed to burn into his very soul. He tried to cry out, but no
+sound fell from his lips; he strove to move, to fight himself away, but
+there was no power of movement in his limbs. The eye grew larger. He saw
+that it was so bright it cast a halo, and the halo widened before his
+own staring eyes until the dense gloom about it seemed to be melting
+away. Then he knew. It was a lantern in front of him, not more than ten
+feet away. Consciousness flooded him, and he made another effort to cry
+out, to free his arms from an invisible clutch that held him powerless.
+At first he thought this was the clutch of human hands; then as the
+lantern-light revealed more clearly the things about him and the
+outlines of his own figure, he saw that it was a rope, and he knew that
+he was unable to cry out because of something tight and suffocating
+about his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The truth came to him swiftly. He had come up to the coyote on a sledge.
+Some one had struck him. He remembered that men had half-dragged him
+over the rocks, and these men had bound and gagged him, and left him
+here, with the lantern staring him in the face. But where was he? He
+shifted his eyes, straining to penetrate the gloom. Ahead of him, just
+beyond the light, there was a black wall; he could not move his head,
+but he saw where that same wall closed in on the left. He turned his
+gaze upward, and it ended with that same imprisoning barrier of rock.
+Then he looked down, and the cry of horror that rose in his throat died
+in a muffled groan. The light fell dimly on a sack--two of
+them--three--a tightly packed wall of them.</p>
+
+<p>He knew now what had happened. He was imprisoned in the coyote, and the
+sacks about him were filled with powder. He was sitting on something
+hard--a box--fifty pounds of dynamite! The cold sweat stood out in beads
+on his face, glistening in the lantern-glow. From between his feet a
+thin, white, ghostly line ran out until it lost itself in the blackness
+under the lantern. It was the fuse, leading to the box of dynamite on
+which he was sitting!</p>
+
+<p>Madly he struggled at the thongs that bound him until he sank exhausted
+against the row of powder sacks at his back. Like words of fire
+the last warning of Meleese burned in his brain--&quot;You must go,
+to-morrow--to-morrow--or they will kill you!&quot; And this was the way in
+which he was to die! There flamed before his eyes the terrible spectacle
+which he had witnessed a few hours before--the holocaust of fire and
+smoke and thunder that had disrupted a mountain, a chaos of writhing,
+twisting fury, and in that moment his heart seemed to cease its beating.
+He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Was it possible that there
+lived men so fiendish as to condemn him to this sort of death? Why had
+not his enemies killed him out among the rocks? That would have been
+easier--quicker--less troublesome. Why did they wish to torture him?
+What terrible thing had he done? Was he mad--mad--and this all a
+terrible nightmare, a raving find unreal contortion of things in his
+brain? In this hour of death question after question raced through his
+head, and he answered no one of them. He sat still for a time, scarcely
+breathing. There was no sound, save the beating of his own heart. Then
+there came another, almost unheard at first, faint, thrilling,
+maddening.</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick!</p>
+
+<p>It was the beating of his watch. A spasm of horror seized him.</p>
+
+<p>What time was it? The coyote was to be fired at nine o'clock. It was
+four when he left his cabin. How long had he been unconscious? Was it
+time now--now? Was MacDonald's finger already reaching out to that
+little white button which would send him into eternity?</p>
+
+<p>He struggled again, gnashing furiously at the thing which covered his
+mouth, tearing the flesh of his wrists as he twisted at the ropes which
+bound him, choking himself with his efforts to loosen the thong about
+his neck. Exhausted again, he sank back, panting, half dead. As he lay
+with closed eyes a little of his reason asserted itself. After all, was
+he such a coward as to go mad?</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick!</p>
+
+<p>His watch was beating at a furious rate. Was something wrong with it?
+Was it going too fast? He tried to count the seconds, but they raced
+away from him. When he looked again his gaze fell on the little yellow
+tongue of flame in the lantern globe. It was not the steady, unwinking
+eye of a few minutes before. There was a sputtering weakness about it
+now, and as he watched the light grew fainter and fainter. The flame was
+going out. A few minutes more and he would be in darkness. At first the
+significance of it did not come to him; then he straightened himself
+with a jerk that tightened the thong about his neck until it choked him.
+Hours must have passed since the lantern had been placed on that rock,
+else the oil would not be burned out of it now!</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Howland realized that it was becoming more and more
+difficult for him to get breath. The thing about his neck was
+tightening, slowly, inexorably, like a hot band of steel, and suddenly,
+because of this tightening, he found that he had recovered his voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whatever had been about his mouth had slipped down and his words sounded
+hollow and choking in the rock-bound chamber. He tried to raise his
+voice in a shout, though he knew how futile his loudest shrieks would
+be. The effort choked him more. His suffering was becoming excruciating.
+Sharp pains darted like red-hot needles through his limbs, his back
+tortured him, and his head ached as though a knife had cleft the base of
+his skull. The strength of his limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt
+any sensation in his cramped feet. He measured the paralysis creeping up
+his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it--and then a
+groan of horror rose to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>The light had gone out!</p>
+
+<p>As if that dying of the little yellow flame were the signal for his
+death, there came to his ears a sharp hissing sound, a spark leaped up
+into the blackness before his eyes, and a slow, creeping glow came
+toward him over the rock at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>The hour--the minute--the second had come, and MacDonald had pressed the
+little white button that was to send him into eternity! He did not cry
+out now. He knew that the end was very near, and in its nearness he
+found new strength. Once he had seen a man walk to his death on the
+scaffold, and as the condemned had spoken his last farewell, with the
+noose about his neck, he had marveled at the clearness of his voice, at
+the fearlessness of this creature in his last moment on earth.</p>
+
+<p>Now he understood. Inch by inch the fuse burned toward him--a fifth of
+the distance, a quarter--now a third. At last it reached a half--was
+almost under his feet. Two minutes more of life. He put his whole
+strength once again in an attempt to free his hands. This time his
+attempt was cool, steady, masterful---with death one hundred seconds
+away. His heart gave a sudden bursting leap into his throat when he felt
+something give. Another effort--and in the powder-choked vault there
+rang out a thrilling cry of triumph. His hands were free! He reached
+forward to the fuse, and this time a moaning, wordless sob fell from
+him, faint, terrifying, with all the horror that might fill a human
+soul in its inarticulate note. He could not reach the fuse because of
+the thong about his neck!</p>
+
+<p>He felt for his knife. He had left it in his room. Sixty seconds
+more--forty--thirty! He could see the fiery end of the fuse almost at
+his feet. Suddenly his groping fingers came in contact with the cold
+steel of his pocket revolver and with a last hope he snatched it forth,
+stretching down his pistol arm until the muzzle of the weapon was within
+a dozen inches of the deadly spark. At his first shot the spark leaped,
+but did not go out. After the second there was no longer the fiery,
+creeping thing on the floor, and, crushing his head back against the
+sacks, Howland sat for many minutes as if death had in reality come to
+him in the moment of his deliverance. After a time, with tedious
+slowness, he worked a hand into his trousers' pocket, where he carried a
+pen-knife. It took him a long time to saw through the rawhide thong
+about his neck. After that he cut the rope that bound his ankles.</p>
+
+<p>He made an effort to rise, but no sooner had he gained his feet than his
+paralyzed limbs gave way under him and he dropped in a heap on the
+floor. Very slowly the blood began finding its way through his choked
+veins again, and with the change there came over him a feeling of
+infinite restfulness. He stretched himself out, with his face turned to
+the black wall above, realizing only that he was saved, that he had
+outwitted his mysterious enemies again, and that he was comfortable. He
+made no effort to think--to scheme out his further deliverance. He was
+with the powder and the dynamite, and the powder and the dynamite could
+not be exploded until human hands came to attach a new fuse. MacDonald
+would attend to that very soon, so he went off into a doze that was
+almost sleep. In his half-consciousness there came to him but one
+sound--that dreadful ticking of his watch. He seemed to have listened
+to it for hours when there arose another sound--the ticking of
+another watch.</p>
+
+<p>He sat up, startled, wondering, and then he laughed happily as he heard
+the sound more distinctly. It was the beating of picks on the rock
+outside. Already MacDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the
+coyote. In half an hour he would be out in the big, breathing
+world again.</p>
+
+<p>The thought brought him to his feet. The numbness was gone from his
+limbs and he could walk about. His first move was to strike a match and
+look at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-past ten!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the words aloud, thinking of Meleese. In an hour and a half he
+was to meet her on the trail. Would he be released in time to keep the
+tryst? How should he explain his imprisonment in the coyote so that he
+could leave MacDonald without further loss of time? As the sound of the
+picks came nearer his brain began working faster. If he could only evade
+explanations until morning--and then reveal the whole dastardly
+business to MacDonald! There would be time then for those explanations,
+for the running down of his murderous assailants, and in the while he
+would be able to keep his appointment with Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>He was not long in finding a way in which this scheme could be worked,
+and gathering up the severed ropes and rawhide he concealed them between
+two of the powder sacks so that those who entered the coyote would
+discover no signs of his terrible imprisonment. Close to the mouth of
+the tunnel there was a black rent in the wall of rock, made by a
+bursting charge of dynamite, in which he could conceal himself. When the
+men were busy examining the broken fuse he would step out and join them.
+It would look as though he had crawled through the tunnel after them.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later a mass of rock rolled down close to his feet, and a
+few moments after he saw a shadowy human form crawling through the hole
+it had left. A second followed, and then a third;--and the first voice
+he heard was that of MacDonald.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give us the lantern, Bucky,&quot; he called back, and a gleam of light shot
+into the black chamber. The men walked cautiously toward the fuse, and
+Howland saw the little superintendent fall on his knees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in hell!&quot; he heard him exclaim, and then there was a silence. As
+quietly as a cat Howland worked himself to the entrance and made a
+clatter among the rocks. It was he who responded to the voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's up, MacDonald?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He coolly joined the little group. MacDonald looked up, and when he saw
+the new chief bending over him his eyes stared in unbounded wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland!&quot; he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>It was all he said, but in that one word and in the strange excitement
+in the superintendent's face Howland read that which made him turn
+quickly to the men, giving them his first command as general-in-chief of
+the road that was going to the bay.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get out of the coyote, boys,&quot; he said. &quot;We won't do anything more until
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To MacDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Guard the entrance to this tunnel with half a dozen of your best men
+to-night, MacDonald. I know things which will lead me to investigate
+this to-morrow. I'm going to leave you as soon as I get outside. Spread
+the report that it was simply a bad fuse. Understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He crawled out ahead of the superintendent, and before MacDonald had
+emerged from the coyote he had already lost himself in the starlit gloom
+of the night and was hastening to his tryst with the beautiful girl,
+who, he believed, would reveal to him at least a part of one of the
+strangest and most diabolical plots that had ever originated in the
+brain of man.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE TRYST</h3>
+
+<p>It still lacked nearly an hour of the appointed time when Howland came
+to the secluded spot in the trail where he was to meet Meleese.
+Concealed in the deep shadows of the bushes he seated himself on the end
+of a fallen spruce and loaded his pipe, taking care to light it with the
+flare of the match hidden in the hollow of his hands. For the first time
+since his terrible experience in the coyote he found himself free to
+think, and more than ever he began to see the necessity of coolness and
+of judgment in what he was about to do. Gradually, too, he fought
+himself back into his old faith in Meleese. His blood was tingling at
+fever heat in his desire for vengeance, for the punishment of the human
+fiends who had attempted to blow him to atoms, and yet at the same time
+there was no bitterness in him toward the girl. He was sure that she
+was an unwilling factor in the plot, and that she was doing all in her
+power to save him. At the same time he began to realize that he should
+no longer be influenced by her pleading. He had promised--in return for
+her confidence this night--to leave unpunished those whom she wished to
+shield. He would take back that promise. Before she revealed anything to
+him he would warn her that he was determined to discover those who had
+twice sought to kill him.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch again. Was it
+possible that Meleese would not come? He could not bring himself to
+believe that she knew of his imprisonment in the coyote--of this second
+attempt on his life. And yet--if she did--</p>
+
+<p>He rose from the log and began pacing quickly back and forth in the
+gloom, his thoughts racing through his brain with increasing
+apprehension. Those who had imprisoned him had learned of his escape an
+hour ago. Many things might have happened in that time. Perhaps they
+were fleeing from the camp. Frightened by their failure, and fearing the
+punishment which would be theirs if discovered, it was not improbable
+that even now they were many miles from the Wekusko, hurrying deeper
+into the unknown wilderness to the north. And Meleese would be
+with them!</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he heard a step, a light, running step, and with a recognizing
+cry he sprang out into the starlight to meet the slim, panting,
+white-faced figure that ran to him from between the thick walls of
+forest trees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese?&quot; he exclaimed softly.</p>
+
+<p>He held out his arms and the girl ran straight into them, thrusting her
+hands against his breast, throwing back her head so that she looked up
+into his face with great, staring, horror-filled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--now--&quot; she sobbed, &quot;<i>now</i> will you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her hands left his breast and crept to his shoulders; slowly they
+slipped over them, and as Howland pressed her closer, his lips silent,
+she gave an agonized cry and dropped her head against his shoulder, her
+whole body torn in a convulsion of grief and terror that startled him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot; she sobbed again and again. &quot;You will go--you will go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I am not going, dear,&quot; he replied in a low, firm voice. &quot;Not after
+what happened to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him as quickly as if he had struck her, freeing
+herself even from the touch of his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I heard--what happened--an hour ago,&quot; she said, her voice choking her.
+&quot;I overheard--them--talking.&quot; She struggled hard to control herself.
+&quot;You must leave the camp--to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the gloom she saw Howland's teeth gleaming. There was no fear in his
+smile; he laughed gently down into her eyes as he took her face between
+his hands again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to take back the promise that I gave you last night, Meleese. I
+want to give you a chance to warn any whom you may wish to warn. I shall
+not return into the South. From this hour begins the hunt for the
+cowardly devils who have tried to murder me. Before dawn every man on
+the Wekusko will be in the search, and if we find them there shall be no
+mercy. Will you help me, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She struck his hands from her face, springing back before he had
+finished. He saw a sudden change of expression; her lips grew tense and
+firm; from the death whiteness of her face there faded slowly away the
+look of soft pleading, the quivering lines of fear. There was a
+strangeness in her voice when she spoke--something of the hard
+determination which Howland had put in his own, and yet the tone of it
+lacked his gentleness and love.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you please tell me the time?&quot; The question was almost startling.
+Howland held the dial of his watch to the light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a quarter past midnight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you certain that your watch is not fast?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because it will mean a great deal to you and to me if it is not a
+quarter past midnight,&quot; continued Meleese, a growing glow in her eyes.
+Suddenly she approached him and put both of her warm hands to his face,
+holding down his arms with her own. &quot;Listen,&quot; she whispered. &quot;Is there
+nothing--nothing that will make you change your purpose, that will take
+you back into the South--to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The nearness of the sweet face, the gentle touch of the girl's hands,
+the soft breath of her lips, sent a maddening impulse through Howland
+to surrender everything to her. For an instant he wavered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There might be one--just <i>one</i> thing that would take me away to-night,&quot;
+he replied, his voice trembling with the great love that thrilled him.
+&quot;For you, Meleese, I would give up everything--ambition, fortune, the
+building of this road. If I go to-night will you go with me? Will you
+promise to be my wife when we reach Le Pas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am--what
+I have done--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you done wrong--a great wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment her eyes faltered; then, hesitatingly, there fell from her
+lips, &quot;I--don't--know. I believe I have. But it's not that--it's
+not <i>that!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean that--that I have no right to tell you I love you?&quot; he
+asked. &quot;Do you mean that it is wrong for you to listen to me?
+I--I--took it for granted that you were a--girl--that--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, it is not that,&quot; she cried quickly, catching his meaning. &quot;It
+is not wrong for you to love me.&quot; Suddenly she asked again, &quot;Will you
+please tell me what time it is--now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Twenty-five minutes after midnight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us go farther up the trail,&quot; she whispered. &quot;I am afraid here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She led the way, passing swiftly beyond the path that branched out to
+his cabin. Two hundred yards beyond this a tree had fallen on the edge
+of the trail, and seating herself on it Meleese motioned for him to sit
+down beside her. Howland's back was to the thick bushes behind them. He
+looked at the girl, but she had turned away her face. Suddenly she
+sprang from the log and stood in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now!&quot; she cried. &quot;Now!&quot; and at that signal Howland's arms were seized
+from behind, and in another instant he was struggling feebly in the
+grip of powerful arms which had fastened themselves about him like wire
+cable, and the cry that rose to his lips was throttled by a hand over
+his mouth. For an instant he caught a glimpse of the girl's white face
+as she stood in the trail; then strong hands pulled him back, while
+others bound his wrists and still others held his legs. Everything had
+passed in a few seconds. Helplessly bound and gagged he lay on his back
+in the snow, listening to the low voices that came faintly to him from
+beyond the bushes. He could understand nothing that they said--and yet
+he was sure that he recognized among them the voice of Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>The voices became fainter; he heard retreating footsteps, and at last
+they died away entirely. Through a rift in the trees straight above him
+the white, cold stars of the night gleamed down on him, and Howland
+stared up at them fixedly until they seemed to be hopping and dancing
+about in the skies. He wanted to swear--yell--fight. In these moments
+that he lay on his back in the freezing snow a million demons were born
+in his blood. The girl had betrayed him again! This time he could find
+no excuse--no pardon for her. She had accepted his love--had allowed him
+to kiss her, to hold her in his arms--while beneath that hypocrisy she
+had plotted his downfall a second time. Deliberately she had given the
+signal for attack, and now--</p>
+
+<p>He heard again the quick, running step that he had recognized on the
+trail. The bushes behind him parted, and in the white starlight Meleese
+fell on her knees at his side, her glorious face bending over him in a
+grief that he had never seen in it before, her eyes shining on him with
+a great love. Without speaking she lifted his head in the hollow of her
+arm and crushed her own down against it, kissing him, and softly
+sobbing his name.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-by,&quot; he heard her breathe. &quot;Good-by--good-by--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He struggled to cry out as she lowered his head back on the snow, to
+free his hands, to hold her with him--but he saw her face only once
+more, bending over him; felt the warm pressure of her lips to his
+forehead, and then again he could hear her footsteps hurrying away
+through the forest.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>A RACE INTO THE NORTH</h3>
+
+<p>That Meleese loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had
+kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howland's brain for many
+minutes after she had left him bound and gagged on the snow. That she
+had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as
+significant. He still felt the sweet, warm touch of her lips, the
+pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair. It was not
+until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a
+full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened. He heard
+first of all the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the
+pattering of dogs' feet, and after that the voices of men. The sounds
+stopped on the trail a dozen feet away from him.</p>
+
+<p>With a strange thrill he recognized Croisset's voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must be sure that you make no mistake,&quot; he heard the half-breed
+say. &quot;Go to the waterfall at the head of the lake and heave down a big
+rock where the ice is open and the water boiling. Track up the snow with
+a pair of M'seur Howland's high-heeled boots and leave his hat tangled
+in the bushes. Then tell the superintendent that he stepped on the stone
+and that it rolled down and toppled him into the chasm. They could never
+find his body--and they will send down for a new engineer in place of
+the lost M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Stupefied with horror, Howland strained his ears to catch the rest of
+the cold-blooded scheme which he was overhearing, but the voices grew
+lower and he understood no more that was said until Croisset, coming
+nearer, called out:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Help me with the M'seur before you go, Jackpine. He is a dead weight
+with all those rawhides about him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As coolly as though he were not more than a chunk of stovewood,
+Croisset and the Indian came through the bushes, seized him by the head
+and feet, carried him out into the trail and laid him lengthwise on
+the sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you have not caught cold lying in the snow, M'seur,&quot; said
+Croisset, bolstering up the engineer's head and shoulders and covering
+him with heavy furs. &quot;We should have been back sooner, but it was
+impossible. Hoo-la, Woonga!&quot; he called softly to his lead-dog. &quot;Get up
+there, you wolf-hound!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As the sledge started, with Croisset running close to the leader,
+Howland heard the low snapping of a whip behind him and another voice
+urging on other dogs. With an effort that almost dislocated his neck he
+twisted himself so he could look back of him. A hundred yards away he
+discerned a second team following in his trail; he saw a shadowy figure
+running at the head of the dogs, but what there was on the sledge, or
+what it meant, he could not see or surmise. Mile after mile the two
+sledges continued without a stop. Croisset did not turn his head; no
+word fell from his lips, except an occasional signal to the dogs. The
+trail had turned now straight into the North, and soon Howland could
+make out no sign of it, but knew only that they were twisting through
+the most open places in the forests, and that the play of the Polar
+lights was never over his left shoulder or his right, but always in
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>They had traveled for several hours when Croisset gave a sudden shrill
+shout to the rearmost sledge and halted his own. The dogs fell in a
+panting group on the snow, and while they were resting the half-breed
+relieved his prisoner of the soft buckskin that had been used as a gag.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will be perfectly safe for you to talk now, M'seur, and to shout as
+loudly as you please,&quot; he said. &quot;After I have looked into your pockets I
+will free your hands so that you can smoke. Are you comfortable?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Comfortable--be damned!&quot; were the first words that fell from Howland's
+lips, and his blood boiled at the sociable way in which Croisset
+grinned down into his face. &quot;So you're in it, too, eh?--and that
+lying girl--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The smile left Croisset's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean Meleese, M'seur Howland?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset leaned down with his black eyes gleaming like coals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know what I would do if I was her, M'seur?&quot; he said in a low
+voice, and yet one filled with a threat which stilled the words of
+passion which the engineer was on the point of uttering. &quot;Do you know
+what I would do? I would kill you--kill you inch by inch--torture you.
+That is what I would do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For God's sake, Croisset, tell me why--why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had found Howland's pistol and freed his hands, and the
+engineer stretched them out entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would give my life for that girl, Croisset. I told her so back there,
+and she came to me when I was in the snow and--&quot; He caught himself,
+adding to what he had left incomplete. &quot;There is a mistake, Croisset. I
+am not the man they want to kill!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset was smiling at him again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smoke--and think, M'seur. It is impossible for me to tell you why you
+should be dead--but you ought to know, unless your memory is shorter
+than a child's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the dogs, stirring them up with the cracking of his whip, and
+when Howland turned to look back he saw a bright flare of light where
+the other sledge had stopped. A man's voice came from the farther gloom,
+calling to Croisset in French.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He tells me I am to take you on alone,&quot; said Croisset, after he had
+replied to the words spoken in a patois which Howland could not
+understand. &quot;They will join us again very soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They!&quot; exclaimed Howland. &quot;How many will it take to kill me, my dear
+Croisset?&quot; The half-breed smiled down into his face again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may thank the Blessed Virgin that they are with us,&quot; he replied
+softly. &quot;If you have any hope outside of Heaven, M'seur, it is on that
+sledge behind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he went again to the dogs, straightening the leader in his traces,
+Howland stared back at the firelit space in the forest gloom. He could
+see a man adding fuel to the blaze, and beyond him, shrouded in the deep
+shadows of the trees, an indistinct tangle of dogs and sledge. As he
+strained his eyes to discover more there was a movement beyond the
+figure over the fire and the young engineer's heart leaped with a sudden
+thrill. Croisset's voice sounded in a shrill shout behind him, and at
+that warning cry in French the second figure sprang back into the gloom.
+But Howland had recognized it, and the chilled blood in his veins leaped
+into warm life again at the knowledge that it was Meleese who was
+trailing behind them on the second sledge! &quot;When you yell like that
+give me a little warning if you please, Jean,&quot; he said, speaking as
+coolly as though he had not recognized the figure that had come for an
+instant into the firelight. &quot;It is enough to startle the life out
+of one!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is our way of saying good-by, M'seur,&quot; replied Croisset with a
+fierce snap of his whip. &quot;Hoo-la, get along there!&quot; he cried to the
+dogs, and in half a dozen breaths the fire was lost to view.</p>
+
+<p>Dawn comes at about eight o'clock in the northern mid-winter; beyond the
+fiftieth degree the first ruddy haze of the sun begins to warm the
+southeastern skies at nine, and its glow had already risen above the
+forests before Croisset stopped his team again. For two hours he had not
+spoken a word to his prisoner and after several unavailing efforts to
+break the other's taciturnity Howland lapsed into a silence of his own.
+When he had brought his tired dogs to a halt, Croisset spoke for the
+first time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going to camp here for a few hours,&quot; he explained. &quot;If you will
+pledge me your word of honor that you will make no attempt to escape I
+will give you the use of your legs until after breakfast, M'seur. What
+do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you a Bible, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, M'seur, but I have the cross of our Virgin, given to me by the
+missioner at York Factory.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will swear by it--I will swear by all the crosses and all the
+Bibles in the world that I will make no effort to escape. I am
+paralyzed, Croisset! I couldn't run for a week!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset was searching in his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&quot; he cried excitedly, &quot;I have lost it! Ah, come to think,
+M'seur, I gave the cross to my Mariane before I went into the South, But
+I will take your word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who is Mariane, Jean? Will she also be in at the 'kill?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mariane is my wife, M'seur. Ah, <i>ma belle</i> Mariane--<i>ma cheri</i>--the
+daughter of an Indian princess and the granddaughter of a <i>chef de
+bataillon</i>, M'seur! Could there be better than that? And she is
+be-e-e-utiful, M'seur, with hair like the top side of a raven's wing
+with the sun shining on it, and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You love her a great deal, Jean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next to the Virgin--and--it may be a little better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had severed the rope about the engineer's legs, and as he
+raised his glowing eyes Howland reached out and put both hands on his
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And in just that way I love Meleese,&quot; he said softly. &quot;Jean, won't you
+be my friend? I don't want to escape. I'm not a coward. Won't you think
+of what your Mariane might do, and be a friend to me? You would die for
+Mariane if it were necessary. And I would die for the girl back on
+that sledge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had staggered to his feet, and pointed into the forests through which
+they had come.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw her in the firelight, Jean. Why is she following us? Why do they
+want to kill me? If you would only give me a chance to prove that it is
+all a mistake--that I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset reached out and took his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I would like to help you,&quot; he interrupted. &quot;I liked you that
+night we came in together from the fight on the trail. I have liked you
+since. And yet, if I was in <i>their</i> place, I would kill you even though
+I like you. It is a great duty to kill you. They did not do wrong when
+they tied you in the coyote. They did not do wrong when they tried to
+kill you on the trail. But I have taken a solemn oath to tell you
+nothing; nothing beyond this--that so long as you are with me, and that
+sledge is behind us, your life is not in danger. I will tell you nothing
+more. Are you hungry, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Starved!&quot; said Howland.</p>
+
+<p>He stumbled a few steps out into the snow, the numbness in his limbs
+forcing him to catch at trees and saplings to save himself from falling.
+He was astonished at Croisset's words and more confused than ever at the
+half-breed's assurance that his life was no longer in immediate peril.
+To him this meant that Meleese had not only warned him but was now
+playing an active part in preserving his life, and this conclusion added
+to his perplexity. Who was this girl who a few hours before had
+deliberately lured him among his enemies and who was now fighting to
+save him? The question held a deeper significance for him than when he
+had asked himself this same thing at Prince Albert, and when Croisset
+called for him to return to the camp-fire and breakfast he touched once
+more the forbidden subject.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean, I don't want to hurt your feelings,&quot; he said, seating himself on
+the sledge, &quot;but I've got to get a few things out of my system. I
+believe this Meleese of yours is a bad woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Like a flash Croisset struck at the bait which Howland threw out to him.
+He leaned a little forward, a hand quivering on his knife, his eyes
+flashing fire. Involuntarily the engineer recoiled from that animal-like
+crouch, from the black rage which was growing each instant in the
+half-breed's face. Yet Croisset spoke softly and without excitement,
+even while his shoulders and arms were twitching like a forest cat about
+to spring.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, no one in the world must say that about my Mariane, and next to
+her they must not say it about Meleese. Up there--&quot; and he pointed still
+farther into the north--&quot;I know of a hundred men between the Athabasca
+and the bay who would kill you for what you have said. And it is not for
+Jean Croisset to listen to it here. I will kill you unless you take
+it back!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God!&quot; breathed Howland. He looked straight into Croisset's face. &quot;I'm
+glad--it's so--Jean,&quot; he added slowly. &quot;Don't you understand, man? I
+love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her, too, Jean. I
+said that to find out--what you would do--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It wasn't a joke,&quot; cried Howland. &quot;It was a serious effort to make you
+tell me something about Meleese. Listen, Jean--she told me back there
+that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and
+gagged in the snow she came to me and--and kissed me. I don't
+understand--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did she do that, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I swear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you are fortunate,&quot; smiled Jean softly, &quot;for I will stake my hope
+in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man,
+M'seur. But it will never happen again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe that it will--unless you kill me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to
+happen again. There are others who would kill you--knowing that it has
+happened but once. But you must stop this talk, M'seur. If you persist I
+shall put the rawhide over your mouth again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I object--fight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have given me your word of honor. Up here in the big snows the
+keeping of that word is our first law. If you break it I will kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good Lord, but you're a cheerful companion,&quot; exclaimed Howland,
+laughing in spite of himself. &quot;Do you know, Croisset, this whole
+situation has a good deal of humor as well as tragedy about it. I must
+be a most important cuss, whoever I am. Ask me who I am, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who are you, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know, Jean. Fact, I don't. I used to think that I was a most
+ambitious young cub in a big engineering establishment down in Chicago.
+But I guess I was dreaming. Funny dream, wasn't it? Thought I came up
+here to build a road somewhere through these infernal---no, I mean these
+beautiful snows--but my mind must have been wandering again. Ever hear
+of an insane asylum, Croisset? Am I in a big stone building with iron
+bars at the windows, and are you my keeper, just come in to amuse me for
+a time? It's kind of you, Croisset, and I hope that some day I shall get
+my mind back so that I can thank you decently. Perhaps you'll go mad
+some day, Jean, and dream about pretty girls, and railroads, and
+forests, and snows--and then I'll be your keeper. Have a cigar? I've got
+just two left.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&quot; gasped Jean. &quot;Yes, I will smoke, M'seur. Is that moose
+steak good?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fine. I haven't eaten a mouthful since years ago, when I dreamed that I
+sat on a case of dynamite just about to blow up. Did you ever sit on a
+case of dynamite just about to blow up, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, M'seur. It must be unpleasant.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how white it
+is--whiter than the snow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset looked at him a little anxiously as he ate his meat, and at the
+gathering unrest in his ayes Howland burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be frightened, Jean,&quot; he spoke soothingly. &quot;I'm harmless. But I
+promise you that I'll become violent unless something reasonable occurs
+pretty soon. Hello, are you going to start so soon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right away, M'seur,&quot; said Croisset, who was stirring up the dogs. &quot;Will
+you walk and run, or ride?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Walk and run, with your permission.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have it, M'seur, but if you attempt to escape I must shoot you. Run
+on the right of the dogs--even with me. I will take this side.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Until Croisset stopped again in the middle of the afternoon Howland
+watched the backward trail for the appearance of the second sledge, but
+there was no sign of it. Once he ventured to bring up the subject to
+Croisset, who did no more than reply with a hunch of his shoulders and a
+quick look which warned the engineer to keep his silence. After their
+second meal the journey was resumed, and by referring occasionally to
+his compass Howland observed that the trail was swinging gradually to
+the eastward. Long before dusk exhaustion compelled him to ride once
+more on the sledge. Croisset seemed tireless, and under the early glow
+of the stars and the red moon he still led on the worn pack until at
+last it stopped on the summit of a mountainous ridge, with a vast plain
+stretching into the north as far as the eyes could see through the white
+gloom. The half-breed came back to where Howland was seated on
+the sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going but a little farther, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;I must replace
+the rawhide over your mouth and the thongs about your wrists. I am
+sorry--but I will leave your legs free.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Howland. &quot;But, really, it is unnecessary, Croisset. I am
+properly subdued to the fact that fate is determined to play out this
+interesting game of ball with me, and no longer knowing where I am, I
+promise you to do nothing more exciting than smoke my pipe if you will
+allow me to go along peaceably at your side.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not attempt to escape--and you will hold your tongue?&quot; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bear in mind, M'seur, that I will kill you if you break your word. You
+may go ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he pointed down the side of the mountain.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE HOUSE OF THE RED DEATH</h3>
+
+<p>Half-way down the ridge a low word from Croisset stopped the engineer.
+Jean had toggled his team with a stout length of babeesh on the mountain
+top and he was looking back when Howland turned toward him. The sharp
+edge of that part of the mountain from which they were descending stood
+out in a clear-cut line against the sky, and on this edge the six dogs
+of the team sat squat on their haunches, silent and motionless, like
+strangely carved gargoyles placed there to guard the limitless plains
+below. Howland took his pipe from his mouth as he watched the staring
+interest of Croisset. From the man he looked up again at the dogs. There
+was something in their sphynx-like attitude, in the moveless reaching of
+their muzzles out into the wonderful starlit mystery of the still night
+that filled him with an indefinable sense of awe. Then there came to his
+ears the sound that had stopped Croisset--a low, moaning whine which
+seemed to have neither beginning nor end, but which was borne in on his
+senses as though it were a part of the soft movement of the air he
+breathed--a note of infinite sadness which held him startled and without
+movement, as it held Jean Croisset. And just as he thought that the
+thing had died away, the wailing came again, rising higher and higher,
+until at last there rose over him a single long howl that chilled the
+blood to his very marrow. It was like the wolf-howl of that first night
+he had looked on the wilderness, and yet unlike it; in the first it had
+been the cry of the savage, of hunger, of the unending desolation of
+life that had thrilled him. In this it was death. He stood shivering as
+Croisset came down to him, his thin face shining white in the starlight.
+There was no other sound save the excited beating of life in their own
+bodies when Jean spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, our dogs howl like that only when some one is dead or about to
+die,&quot; he whispered. &quot;It was Woonga who gave the cry. He has lived for
+eleven years and I have never known him to fail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must tie your hands, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I have given you my word, Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your hands, M'seur. There is already death below us in the plain, or it
+is to come very soon. I must tie your hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong
+of babeesh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe I understand,&quot; he spoke softly, listening again for the
+chilling wail from the mountain top. &quot;You are afraid that I will
+kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a warning, M'seur. You might try. But I should probably kill you.
+As it is--&quot; he shrugged his shoulders as he led the way down the
+ridge--&quot;as it is, there is small chance of Jean Croisset answering
+the call.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May those saints of yours preserve me, Jean, but this is all very
+cheerful!&quot; grunted Howland, half laughing in spite of himself. &quot;Now that
+I'm tied up again, who the devil is there to die--but me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a hard question, M'seur,&quot; replied the half-breed with grim
+seriousness. &quot;Perhaps it is your turn. I half believe that it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when there came again the
+moaning howl from the top of the ridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're getting on my nerves, Jean--you and that accursed dog!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Silence, M'seur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Out of the grim loneliness at the foot of the mountain there loomed a
+shadow which at first Howland took to be a huge mass of rock. A few
+steps farther and he saw that it was a building. Croisset gripped him
+firmly by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stay here,&quot; he commanded. &quot;I will return soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a quarter of an hour Howland waited. Twice in that interval the dog
+howled above him. He was glad when Croisset appeared out of the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is as I thought, M'seur. There is death down here. Come with me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The shadow of the big building shrouded them as they approached. Howland
+could make out that it was built of massive logs and that there seemed
+to be neither door nor window on their side. And yet when Jean hesitated
+for an instant before a blotch of gloom that was deeper than the others,
+he knew that they had come to an entrance. Croisset advanced softly,
+sniffing the air suspiciously with his thin nostrils, and listening,
+with Howland so close to him that their shoulders touched. From the top
+of the mountain there came again the mournful death-song of old Woonga,
+and Jean shivered. Howland stared into the blotch of gloom, and still
+staring he followed Croisset--entered--and disappeared in it. About them
+was the stillness and the damp smell of desertion. There was no visible
+sign of life, no breathing, no movement but their own, and yet Howland
+could feel the half-breed's hand clutch him nervously by the arm as they
+went step by step into the black and silent mystery of the place. Soon
+there came a fumbling of Croisset's hand at a latch and they passed
+through a second door. Then Jean struck a match.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen steps away was a table and on the table a lamp. Croisset
+lighted it, and with a quiet laugh faced the engineer. They were in a
+low, dungeon-like chamber, without a window and with but the one door
+through which they had entered. The table, two chairs, a stove and a
+bunk built against one of the log walls were all that Howland could see.
+But it was not the barrenness of what he imagined was to be his new
+prison that held his eyes in staring inquiry on Croisset. It was the
+look in his companion's face, the yellow pallor of fear--a horror--that
+had taken possession of it. The half-breed closed and bolted the door,
+and then sat down beside the table, his thin face peering up through the
+sickly lamp-glow at the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, it would be hard for you to guess where you are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland waited.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you had lived in this country long, M'seur, you would have heard of
+<i>la Maison de Mort Rouge</i>--the House of the Red Death, as you would call
+it. That is where we are--in the dungeon room. It is a Hudson Bay post,
+abandoned almost since I can remember. When I was a child the smallpox
+plague came this way and killed all the people. Nineteen years ago the
+red plague came again, and not one lived through it in this <i>Poste de
+Mort Rouge.</i> Since then it has been left to the weasels and the owls. It
+is shunned by every living soul between the Athabasca and the bay. That
+is why you are safe here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ye gods!&quot; breathed Howland. &quot;Is there anything more, Croisset? Safe
+from what, man? Safe from what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From those who wish to kill you, M'seur. You would not go into the
+South, so <i>la belle</i> Meleese has compelled you to go into the North,
+<i>Comprenez-vous?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland sat as if stunned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you understand, M'seur?&quot; persisted Croisset, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I--I--think I do,&quot; replied Howland tensely. &quot;You mean--Meleese--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean took the words from him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that you would have died last night, M'seur, had it not been for
+Meleese. You escaped from the coyote--but you would not have escaped
+from the other. That is all I can tell you. But you will be safe here.
+Those who seek your life will soon believe that you are dead, and then
+we will let you go back. Is that not a kind fate for one who deserves to
+be cut into bits and fed to the ravens?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will tell me nothing more, Jean?&quot; the engineer asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--except that while I would like to kill you I have sympathy for
+you. That, perhaps, is because I once lived in the South. For six years
+I was with the company in Montreal, where I went to school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, tying the flap of his caribou skin coat about his
+throat. Then he unbolted and opened the door. Faintly there came to
+them, as if from a great distance, the wailing grief of Woonga, the dog.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You said there was death here,&quot; whispered Howland, leaning close to his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is one who has lived here since the last plague,&quot; replied
+Croisset under his breath. &quot;He lost his wife and children and it drove
+him mad. That is why we came down so quietly. He lived in a little cabin
+out there on the edge of the clearing, and when I went to it to-night
+there was a sapling over the house with a flag at the end of it. When
+the plague comes to us we hang out a red flag as a warning to others.
+That is one of our laws. The flag is blown to tatters by the winds.
+He is dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of the smallpox?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments they stood in silence. Then Croisset added, &quot;You will
+remain here, M'seur, until I return.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went out, closing and barring the door from the other side, and
+Howland seated himself again in the chair beside the table. Fifteen
+minutes later the half-breed returned, bearing with him a good-sized
+pack and a two-gallon jug.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is wood back of the stove, M'seur. Here is food and water for a
+week, and furs for your bed. Now I will cut those thongs about
+your wrists.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean to say you're going to leave me here alone--in this
+wretched prison?&quot; cried Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, is it not better than a grave, M'seur? I will be back at
+the end of a week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The door was partly open and for the last time there came to Howland's
+ears the mourning howl of the old dog on the mountain top. Almost
+threateningly he gripped Croisset's arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean--if you don't come back--what will happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He heard the half-breed chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will die, M'seur, pleasantly and taking your own time at it, which
+is much better than dying over a case of dynamite. But I will come back,
+M'seur. Good-by!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again the door was closed and bolted and the sound of Croisset's
+footsteps quickly died away beyond the log walls. Many minutes passed
+before Howland thought of his pipe, or a fire. Then, shiveringly, he
+went to seek the fuel which Jean had told him was behind the stove. The
+old bay stove was soon roaring with the fire which he built, and as the
+soothing fumes of his pipe impregnated the damp air of the room he
+experienced a sensation of comfort which was in strange contrast to the
+exciting happenings of the past few days.</p>
+
+<p>At last he was alone, with nothing to do for a week but eat, sleep and
+smoke. He had plenty of tobacco and an inspection of the pack showed
+that Croisset had left him well stocked with food. Tilted back in a
+chair, with his feet on the table, he absorbed the cheerful heat from
+the stove, sent up clouds of smoke, and wondered if the half-breed had
+already started back into the South. What would MacDonald say when
+Jackpine came in with the report that he had slipped to his death in the
+waterfall? Probably his first move would be to send the most powerful
+team on the Wekusko in pursuit of Gregson and Thorne. The departing
+engineers would be compelled to return, and then--</p>
+
+<p>He laughed aloud and began pacing back and forth across the rotted floor
+of his prison as he pictured the consternation of the two seniors. And
+then a flush burned in his face and his eyes glowed as he thought of
+Meleese. In spite of himself she had saved him from his enemies, and he
+blessed Croisset for having told him the meaning of this flight into the
+North. Once again she had betrayed him, but this time it was to save his
+life, and his heart leaped in joyous faith at this proof of her love
+for him. He believed that he understood the whole scheme now. Even his
+enemies would think him dead. They would leave the Wekusko and after a
+time, when it was safe for him to return, he would be given his freedom.</p>
+
+<p>With the passing of the hours gloomier thoughts shadowed these
+anticipations. In some mysterious way Meleese was closely associated
+with those who sought his life, and if they disappeared she would
+disappear with them. He was convinced of that. And then--could he find
+her again? Would she go into the South--to civilization--or deeper into
+the untraveled wildernesses of the North? In answer to his question
+there flashed through his mind the words of Jean Croisset: &quot;M'seur, I
+know of a hundred men between Athabasca and the bay who would kill you
+for what you have said.&quot; Yes, she would go into the North. Somewhere in
+that vast desolation of which Jean had spoken he would find her, even
+though he spent half of his life in the search!</p>
+
+<p>It was past midnight when he spread out the furs and undressed for bed.
+He opened the stove door and from the bunk watched the faint flickerings
+of the dying firelight on the log walls. As slumber closed his eyes he
+was conscious of a sound--the faint, hungerful, wailing cry to which he
+had listened that first night near Prince Albert. It was a wolf, and
+drowsily he wondered how he could hear the cry through the thick log
+walls of his prison. The answer came to him the moment he opened his
+eyes, hours later. A bit of pale sunlight was falling into the room and
+he saw that it entered through a narrow aperture close up to the
+ceiling. After he had prepared his breakfast he dragged the table under
+this aperture and by standing on it was enabled to peer through. A
+hundred yards away was the black edge of the spruce and balsam forest.
+Between him and the forest, half smothered in the deep snow, was a
+cabin, and he shuddered as he saw floating over it the little red signal
+of death of which Croisset had told him the night before.</p>
+
+<p>With the breaking of this day the hours seemed of interminable length.
+For a time he amused himself by searching every corner and crevice of
+his prison room, but he found nothing of interest beyond what he had
+already discovered. He examined the door which Croisset had barred on
+him, and gave up all hope of escape in that direction. He could barely
+thrust his arm through the aperture that opened out on the
+plague-stricken cabin. For the first time since the stirring beginning
+of his adventures at Prince Albert a sickening sense of his own
+impotency began to weigh on Howland. He was a prisoner--penned up in a
+desolate room in the heart of a wilderness. And he, Jack Howland, a man
+who had always taken pride in his physical prowess, had allowed one man
+to place him there.</p>
+
+<p>His blood began to boil as he thought of it. Now, as he had time and
+silence in which to look back on what had happened, he was enraged at
+the pictures that flashed one after another before him. He had allowed
+himself to be used as nothing more than a pawn in a strange and
+mysterious game. It was not through his efforts alone that he had been
+saved in the fight on the Saskatchewan trail. Blindly he had walked into
+the trap at the coyote. Still more blindly he had allowed himself to be
+led into the ambush at the Wekusko camp. And more like a child than a
+man he had submitted himself to Jean Croisset!</p>
+
+<p>He stamped back and forth across the room, smoking viciously, and his
+face grew red with the thoughts that were stirring venom within him. He
+placed no weight on circumstances; in these moments he found no excuse
+for himself. In no situation had he displayed the white feather, at no
+time had he felt a thrill of fear. His courage and recklessness had
+terrified Meleese, had astonished Croisset. And yet--what had he done?
+From the beginning--from the moment he first placed his foot in the
+Chinese cafe--his enemies had held the whip-hand. He had been compelled
+to play a passive part. Up to the point of the ambush on the Wekusko
+trail he might have found some vindication for himself. But this
+experience with Jean Croisset--it was enough to madden him, now that he
+was alone, to think about it. Why had <i>he</i> not taken advantage of Jean,
+as Jackpine and the Frenchman had taken advantage of him?</p>
+
+<p>He saw now what he might have done. Somewhere, not very far back, the
+sledge carrying Meleese and Jackpine had turned into the unknown. They
+two were alone. Why had he not made Croisset a prisoner, instead of
+allowing himself to be caged up like a weakling? He swore aloud as there
+dawned on him more and more a realization of the opportunity he had
+lost. At the point of a gun he could have forced Croisset to overtake
+the other sledge. He could have surprised Jackpine, as they had
+surprised him on the trail. And then? He smiled, but there was no humor
+in the smile. He at least would have held the whip-hand. And what would
+Meleese have done?</p>
+
+<p>He asked himself question after question, answering them quickly and
+decisively in the same breath. Meleese loved him. He would have staked
+his life on that. His blood leaped as he felt again the thrill of her
+kisses when she had come to him as he lay bound and gagged beside the
+trail. She had taken his head in her arms, and through the grief of her
+face he had seen shining the light of a great love that had glorified it
+for all time for him. She loved him! And he had let her slip away from
+him, had weakly surrendered himself at a moment when everything that he
+had dreamed of might have been within his grasp. With Jackpine and
+Croisset in his power--</p>
+
+<p>He went no further. Was it too late to do these things now? Croisset
+would return. With a sort of satisfaction it occurred to him that his
+actions had disarmed the Frenchman of suspicion. He believed that it
+would be easy to overcome Croisset, to force him to follow in the trail
+of Meleese and Jackpine. And that trail? It would probably lead to the
+very stronghold of his enemies. But what of that? He loaded his pipe
+again, puffing out clouds of smoke until the room was thick with it.
+That trail would take him to Meleese--wherever she was. Heretofore his
+enemies had come to him; now he would go to them. With Croisset in his
+power, and with none of his enemies aware of his presence, everything
+would be in his favor. He laughed aloud as a sudden thrilling thought
+flashed into his mind. As a last resort he would use Jean as a decoy.</p>
+
+<p>He foresaw how easy it would be to bring Meleese to him--to see
+Croisset. His own presence would be like the dropping of a bomb at her
+feet. In that moment, when she saw what he was risking for her, that he
+was determined to possess her, would she not surrender to the pleading
+of his love? If not he would do the other thing--that which had brought
+the joyous laugh to his lips. All was fair in war and love, and theirs
+was a game of love. Because of her love for him Meleese had kidnapped
+him from his post of duty, had sent him a prisoner to this death-house
+in the wilderness. Love had exculpated her. That same love would
+exculpate him. He would make her a prisoner, and Jean should drive them
+back to the Wekusko. Meleese herself had set the pace and he would
+follow it. And what woman, if she loved a man, would not surrender after
+this? In their sledge trip he would have her to himself, for not only an
+hour or two, but for days. Surely in that time he could win. There would
+be pursuit, perhaps; he might have to fight--but he was willing, and a
+trifle anxious, to fight.</p>
+
+<p>He went to bed that night, and dreamed of things that were to happen. A
+second day, a third night, and a third day came. With each hour grew his
+anxiety for Jean's return. At times he was almost feverish to have the
+affair over with. He was confident of the outcome, and yet he did not
+fail to take the Frenchman's true measurement. He knew that Jean was
+like live wire and steel, as agile as a cat, more than a match with
+himself in open fight despite his own superior weight and size. He
+devised a dozen schemes for Jean's undoing. One was to leap on him
+while he was eating; another to spring on him and choke him into partial
+insensibility as he knelt beside his pack or fed the fire; a third to
+strike a blow from behind that would render him powerless. But there was
+something in this last that was repugnant to him. He remembered that
+Jean had saved his life, that in no instance had he given him physical
+pain. He would watch for an opportunity, take advantage of the
+Frenchman, as Croisset had taken advantage of him, but he would not hurt
+him seriously. It should be as fair a struggle as Jean had offered him,
+and with the handicap in his favor the best man would win.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of the fourth day Howland was awakened by a sound that
+came through the aperture in the wall. It was the sharp yelping bark of
+a dog, followed an instant later by the sharper crack of a whip, and a
+familiar voice.</p>
+
+<p>Jean Croisset had returned!</p>
+
+<p>With a single leap he was out of his bunk. Half dressed he darted to
+the door, and crouched there, the muscles of his arms tightening, his
+body tense with the gathering forces within him.</p>
+
+<p>The spur of the moment had driven him to quick decision. His opportunity
+would come when Jean Croisset passed through that door!</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE FIGHT</h3>
+
+<p>Beyond the door Howland heard Jean pause. There followed a few moments
+silence, as though the other were listening for sound within. Then there
+came a fumbling at the bar and the door swung inward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Bon jour</i>, M'seur,&quot; called Jean's cheerful voice as he stepped inside.
+&quot;Is it possible you are not up, with all this dog-barking and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes had gone to the empty bunk. Despite his cheerful greeting
+Howland saw that the Frenchman's face was haggard and pale as he turned
+quickly toward him. He observed no further than that, but flung his
+whole weight on the unprepared Croisset, and together they crashed to
+the floor. There was scarce a struggle and Jean lay still. He was flat
+on his back, his arms pinioned to his sides, and bringing himself
+astride the Frenchman's body so that each knee imprisoned an arm Howland
+coolly began looping the babeesh thongs that he had snatched from the
+table as he sprang to the door. Behind Howland's back Jean's legs shot
+suddenly upward. In a quick choking clutch of steel-like muscle they
+gripped about his neck like powerful arms and in another instant he was
+twisted backward with a force that sent him half neck-broken to the
+opposite wall. He staggered to his feet, dazed for a moment, and Jean
+Croisset stood in the middle of the floor, his caribou skin coat thrown
+off, his hands clenched, his eyes darkening with a dangerous fire. As
+quickly as it had come, the fire died away, and as he advanced slowly,
+his shoulders punched over, his white teeth gleamed in a smile. Howland
+smiled back, and advanced to meet him. There was no humor, no
+friendliness in the smiles. Both had seen that flash of teeth and deadly
+scintillation of eyes at other times, both knew what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe that I will kill you, M'seur,&quot; said Jean softly. There was
+no excitement, no tremble of passion in his voice. &quot;I have been thinking
+that I ought to kill you. I had almost made up my mind to kill you when
+I came back to this <i>Maison de Mort Rouge</i>. It is the justice of God
+that I kill you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two men circled, like beasts in a pit, Howland in the attitude of a
+boxer, Jean with his shoulders bent, his arms slightly curved at his
+side, the toes of his moccasined feet bearing his weight. Suddenly he
+launched himself at the other's throat.</p>
+
+<p>In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing
+blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his
+back. Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet. It was the first time that
+he had ever come into contact with science. He was puzzled. His head
+rang, and for a few moments he was dizzy. He darted in again, in his
+old, quick, cat-like way, and received a blow that dazed him. This time
+he kept his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure now that I am going to kill you, M'seur,&quot; he said, as coolly
+as before.</p>
+
+<p>There was something terribly calm and decisive in his voice. He was not
+excited. He was not afraid. His fingers did not go near the weapons in
+his belt, and slowly the smile faded from Howland's lips as Jean circled
+about him. He had never fought a man of this kind; never had he looked
+on the appalling confidence that was in his antagonist's eyes. From
+those eyes, rather than from the man, he found himself slowly
+retreating. They followed him, never taking themselves from his face. In
+them the fire returned and grew deeper. Two dull red spots began to glow
+in Croisset's cheeks, and he laughed softly when he suddenly leaped in
+so that Howland struck at him--and missed. He knew what to expect now.
+And Howland knew what to expect.</p>
+
+<p>It was the science of one world pitted against that of another--the
+science of civilization against that of the wilderness. Howland was
+trained in his art. For sport Jean had played with wounded lynx; his was
+the quickness of sight, of instinct--the quickness of the great north
+loon that had often played this same game with his rifle-fire, of the
+sledge-dog whose ripping fangs carried death so quickly that eyes could
+not follow. A third and a fourth time he came within distance and
+Howland struck and missed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to kill you,&quot; he said again.</p>
+
+<p>To this point Howland had remained cool. Self-possession in his science
+he knew to be half the battle. But he felt in him now a slow, swelling
+anger. The smiling flash in Jean's eyes began to irritate him; the
+fearless, taunting gleam of his teeth, his audacious confidence, put him
+on edge. Twice again he struck out swiftly, but Jean had come and gone
+like a dart. His lithe body, fifty pounds lighter than Howland's, seemed
+to be that of a boy dodging him in some tantalizing sport. The Frenchman
+made no effort at attack; his were the tactics of the wolf at the heels
+of the bull moose, of the lynx before the prongs of a cornered
+buck--tiring, worrying, ceaseless.</p>
+
+<p>Howland's striking muscles began to ache and his breath was growing
+shorter with the exertions which seemed to have no effect on Croisset.
+For a few moments he took the aggressive, rushing Jean to the stove,
+behind the table, twice around the room--striving vainly to drive him
+into a corner, to reach him with one of the sweeping blows which
+Croisset evaded with the lightning quickness of a hell-diver. When he
+stopped, his breath came in wind-broken gasps. Jean drew nearer,
+smiling, ferociously cool.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to kill you, M'seur,&quot; he repeated again.</p>
+
+<p>Howland dropped his arms, his fingers relaxed, and he forced his breath
+between his lips as if he were on the point of exhaustion. There were
+still a few tricks in his science, and these, he knew, were about his
+last cards. He backed into a corner, and Jean followed, his eyes
+flashing a steely light, his body growing more and more tense.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, M'seur, I am going to kill you,&quot; he said in the same low voice. &quot;I
+am going to break your neck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland backed against the wall, partly turned as if fearing the other's
+attack, and yet without strength to repel it. There was a contemptuous
+smile on Croisset's lips as he poised himself for an instant. Then he
+leaped in, and as his fingers gripped at the other's throat Howland's
+right arm shot upward in a deadly short-arm punch that caught his
+antagonist under the jaw. Without a sound Jean staggered back, tottered
+for a moment on his feet, and fell to the floor. Fifty seconds later he
+opened his eyes to find his hands bound behind his back and Howland
+standing at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but that was a good one!&quot; he gasped, after he had taken a
+long breath or two. &quot;Will you teach it to me, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get up!&quot; commanded Howland. &quot;I have no time to waste, Croisset.&quot; He
+caught the Frenchman by the shoulders and helped him to a chair near the
+table. Then he took possession of the other's weapons, including the
+revolver which Jean had taken from him, and began to dress. He spoke no
+word until he was done.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you understand what is going to happen Croisset?&quot; he cried then, his
+eyes blazing hotly. &quot;Do you understand that what you have done will put
+you behind prison bars for ten years or more? Does it dawn on you that
+I'm going to take you back to the authorities, and that as soon as we
+reach the Wekusko I'll have twenty men back on the trail of these
+friends of yours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A gray pallor spread itself over Jean's thin face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great God, M'seur, you can not do that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Can not!</i>&quot; Howland's fingers dug into the edge of the table. &quot;By this
+great God of yours, Croisset, but I will! And why not? Is it because
+Meleese is among this gang of cut-throats and murderers? Pish, my dear
+Jean, you must be a fool. They tried to kill me on the trail, tried it
+again in the coyote, and you came back here determined to kill me.
+You've held the whip-hand from the first. Now it's mine. I swear that if
+I take you back to the Wekusko we'll get you all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>If</i>, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--<i>if</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that 'if'--&quot; Jean was straining against the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It rests with you, Croisset. I will bargain with you. Either I shall
+take you back to the Wekusko, hand you over to the authorities and send
+a force after the others--or you shall take me to Meleese. Which
+shall it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I take you to Meleese, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland straightened, his voice trembling a little with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you take me to Meleese, and swear to do as I say, I shall bring no
+harm to you or your friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Meleese--&quot; Jean's eyes darkened again, &quot;You will not harm her,
+M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Harm <i>her</i>!&quot; There was a laughing tremor in Howland's voice. &quot;Good God,
+man, are you so blind that you can't see that I am doing this because of
+her? I tell you that I love her, and that I am willing to die in
+fighting for her. Until now I haven't had the chance. You and your
+friends have played a cowardly underhand game, Croisset. You have taken
+me from behind at every move, and now it's up to you to square yourself
+a little or there's going to be hell to pay. Understand? You take me to
+Meleese or there'll be a clean-up that will put you and the whole bunch
+out of business. <i>Harm her</i>--&quot; Again Howland laughed, leaning his white
+face toward Jean. &quot;Come, which shall it be, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A cold glitter, like the snap of sparks from striking steels, shot from
+the Frenchman's eyes. The grayish pallor went from his face. His teeth
+gleamed in the enigmatic smile that had half undone Howland in
+the fight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are mistaken in some things, M'seur,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;Until
+to-day I have fought for you and not against you. But now you have left
+me but one choice. I will take you to Meleese, and that means--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good!&quot; cried Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;La, la, M'seur--not so good as you think. It means that as surely as
+the dogs carry us there you will never come back. <i>Mon Dieu,</i> your death
+is certain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned briskly to the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hungry, Jean?&quot; he asked more companionably. &quot;Let's not quarrel, man.
+You've had your fun, and now I'm going to have mine. Have you had
+breakfast?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur,&quot; replied Jean with
+grim humor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then--after I had fed you--you were going to kill me, my dear
+Jean,&quot; laughed Howland, flopping a huge caribou steak on the naked top
+of the sheet-iron stove. &quot;Real nice fellow you are, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to be killed, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you've said before. When I see Meleese I'm going to know the reason
+why, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or what, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kill you, Jean. I've just about made up my mind that you ought to be
+killed. If any one dies up where we're going, Croisset, it will be you
+first of all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean remained silent. A few minutes later Howland brought the caribou
+steak, a dish of flour cakes and a big pot of coffee to the table. Then
+he went behind Jean and untied his hands. When he sat down at his own
+side of the table he cocked his revolver and placed it beside his tin
+plate. Jean grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It means business,&quot; said his captor warningly. &quot;If at any time I think
+you deserve it I shall shoot you in your tracks, Croisset, so don't
+arouse my suspicions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I took your word of honor,&quot; said Jean sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will take yours to an extent,&quot; replied Howland, pouring the
+coffee. Suddenly he picked up the revolver. &quot;You never saw me shoot, did
+you? See that cup over there?&quot; He pointed to a small tin pack-cup
+hanging to a nail on the wall a dozen paces from them. Three times
+without missing he drove bullets through it, and smiled across
+at Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to give you the use of your arms and legs, except at night,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, it is safe,&quot; grunted Jean. &quot;I give you my word that I will
+be good, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sun was up when Croisset led the way outside. His dogs and sledge
+were a hundred yards from the building, and Howland's first move was to
+take possession of the Frenchman's rifle and eject the cartridges while
+Jean tossed chunks of caribou flesh to the huskies. When they were ready
+to start Jean turned slowly and half reached out a mittened hand to
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur,&quot; he said softly, &quot;I can not help liking you, though I know that
+I should have killed you long ago. I tell you again that if you go into
+the North there is only one chance in a hundred that you will come back
+alive. Great God, M'seur, up where you wish to go the very trees will
+fall on you and the carrion ravens pick, out your eyes! And that
+chance--that one chance in a hundred, M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will take,&quot; interrupted Howland decisively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was going to say, M'seur,&quot; finished Jean quietly, &quot;that unless
+accident has befallen those who left Wekusko yesterday that one chance
+is gone. If you go South you are safe. If you go into the North you are
+no better than a dead man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will at least be a little fun at the finish,&quot; laughed the young
+engineer. &quot;Come, Jean, hit up the dogs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I say you are a fool--and a brave man,&quot; said Croisset, and
+his whip twisted sinuously in mid-air and cracked in sharp command over
+the yellow backs of the huskies.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE PURSUIT</h3>
+
+<p>Behind the sledge ran Howland, to the right of the team ran Jean. Once
+or twice when Croisset glanced back his eyes met those of the engineer.
+He cracked his whip and smiled, and Howland's teeth gleamed back coldly
+in reply. A mutual understanding flashed between them in these glances.
+In a sudden spurt Howland knew that the Frenchman could quickly put
+distance between them--but not a distance that his bullets could not
+cover in the space of a breath. He had made up his mind to fire,
+deliberately and with his greatest skill, if Croisset made the slightest
+movement toward escape. If he was compelled to kill or wound his
+companion he could still go on alone with the dogs, for the trail of
+Meleese and Jackpine would be as plain as their own, which they were
+following back into the South.</p>
+
+<p>For the second time since coming into the North he felt the blood
+leaping through his veins as on that first night in Prince Albert when
+from the mountain he had heard the lone wolf, and when later he had seen
+the beautiful face through the hotel window. Howland was one of the few
+men who possess unbounded confidence in themselves, who place a certain
+pride in their physical as well as their mental capabilities, and he was
+confident now. His successful and indomitable fight over obstacles in a
+big city had made this confidence a genuine part of his being. It was a
+confidence that flushed his face with joyous enthusiasm as he ran after
+the dogs, and that astonished and puzzled Jean Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but you are a strange man!&quot; exclaimed the Frenchman when he
+brought the dogs down to a walk after a half mile run. &quot;Blessed saints,
+M'seur, you are laughing--and I swear it is no laughing matter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shouldn't a man be happy when he is going to his wedding, Jean?&quot;
+puffed Howland, gasping to get back the breath he had lost.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But not when he's going to his funeral, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I were one of your blessed saints I'd hit you over the head with a
+thunderbolt, Croisset. Good Lord, what sort of a heart have you got
+inside of your jacket, man? Up there where we're going is the sweetest
+little girl in the whole world. I love her. She loves me. Why shouldn't
+I be happy, now that I know I'm going to see her again very soon--and
+take her back into the South with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; grunted Jean.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you're jealous, Croisset,&quot; suggested Howland. &quot;Great Scott, I
+hadn't thought of <i>that!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got one of my own to love, M'seur; and I wouldn't trade her for
+all else in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Damned if I can understand you,&quot; swore the engineer. &quot;You appear to be
+half human; you say you're in love, and yet you'd rather risk your life
+than help out Meleese and me. What the deuce does it mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I'm doing, M'seur--helping Meleese. I would have done her a
+greater service if I had killed you back there on the trail and stripped
+your body for those things that would be foul enough to eat it. I have
+told you a dozen times that it is God's justice that you die. And you
+are going to die--very soon, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I'm not going to die, Jean. I'm going to see Meleese, and she's
+going back into the South with me. And if you're real good you may have
+the pleasure of driving us back to the Wekusko, Croisset, and you can be
+my best man at the wedding. What do you say to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That you are mad--or a fool,&quot; retorted Jean, cracking his whip
+viciously.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs swung sharply from the trail, heading from their southerly
+course into the northwest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will save a day by doing this,&quot; explained Croisset at the other's
+sharp word of inquiry. &quot;We will hit the other trail twenty miles west of
+here, while by following back to where they turned we would travel sixty
+miles to reach the same point. That one chance in a hundred which you
+have depends on this, M'seur. If the other sledge has passed--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders and started the dogs into a trot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here,&quot; cried Howland, running beside him. &quot;Who is with this other
+sledge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those who tried to kill you on the trail and at the coyote, M'seur,&quot; he
+answered quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Howland fell half a dozen paces behind. By the end of the first hour he
+was compelled to rest frequently by taking to the sledge, and their
+progress was much slower. Jean no longer made answer to his occasional
+questions. Doggedly he swung on ahead to the right and a little behind
+the team leader, and Howland could see that for some reason Croisset was
+as anxious as himself to make the best time possible. His own
+impatience increased as the morning lengthened. Jean's assurance that
+the mysterious enemies who had twice attempted his life were only a
+short distance behind them, or a short distance ahead, set a new and
+desperate idea at work in his brain. He was confident that these men
+from the Wekusko were his chief menace, and that with them once out of
+the way, and with the Frenchman in his power, the fight which he was
+carrying into the enemy's country would be half won. There would then be
+no one to recognize him but Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>His heart leaped with joyous hope, and he leaned forward on the sledge
+to examine Croisset's empty gun. It was an automatic, and Croisset,
+glancing back over the loping backs of the huskies, caught him smiling.
+He ran more frequently now, and longer distances, and with the passing
+of each mile his determination to strike a decisive blow increased. If
+they reached the trail of Meleese and Jackpine before the crossing of
+the second sledge he would lay in wait for his old enemies; if they had
+preceded them he would pursue and surprise them in camp. In either case
+he would possess an overwhelming advantage.</p>
+
+<p>With the same calculating attention to detail that he would have shown
+in the arrangement of plans for the building of a tunnel or a bridge, he
+drew a mental map of his scheme and its possibilities. There would be at
+least two men with the sledge, and possibly three. If they surrendered
+at the point of his rifle without a fight he would compel Jean to tie
+them up with dog-traces while he held them under cover. If they made a
+move to offer resistance he would shoot. With the automatic he could
+kill or wound the three before they could reach their rifles, which
+would undoubtedly be on the sledge. The situation had now reached a
+point where he no longer took into consideration what these men might be
+to Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>As they continued into the northwest Howland noted that the thicker
+forest was gradually clearing into wide areas of small banskian pine,
+and that the rock ridges and dense swamps which had impeded their
+progress were becoming less numerous. An hour before noon, after a
+tedious climb to the top of a frozen ridge, Croisset pointed down into a
+vast level plain lying between them and other great ridges far to
+the north.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a bit of the Barren Lands that creeps down between those
+mountains off there, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;Do you see that black forest
+that looks like a charred log in the snow to the south and west of the
+mountains? That is the break that leads into the country of the
+Athabasca. Somewhere between this point and that we will strike the
+trail. Mon Dieu, I had half expected to see them out there on
+the plain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who? Meleese and Jackpine, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, the others, M'seur. Shall we have dinner here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not until we hit the trail,&quot; replied Howland. &quot;I'm anxious to know
+about that one chance in a hundred you've given me hope of, Croisset. If
+they have passed--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they are ahead of us you might just as well stand out there and let
+me put a bullet through you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the head of the dogs, guiding them down the rough side of the
+ridge, while Howland steadied the toboggan from behind. For
+three-quarters of an hour they traversed the low bush of the plain in
+silence. From every rising snow hummock Jean scanned the white
+desolation about them, and each time, as nothing that was human came
+within his vision, he turned toward the engineer with a sinister shrug
+of his shoulders. Once three moving caribou, a mile or more away,
+brought a quick cry to his lips and Howland noticed that a sudden flush
+of excitement came into his face, replaced in the next instant by a look
+of disappointment. After this he maintained a more careful guard over
+the Frenchman. They had covered less than half of the distance to the
+caribou trail when in a small open space free of bush Croisset's voice
+rose sharply and the team stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think of it, M'seur?&quot; he cried, pointing to the snow.
+&quot;What do you think of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Barely cutting into the edge of the open was the broken crust of two
+sledge trails. For a moment Howland forgot his caution and bent over to
+examine the trails, with his back to his companion. When he looked up
+there was a curious laughing gleam in Jean's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but you are careless!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Be more careful,
+M'seur. I may give myself up to another temptation like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce you say!&quot; cried Howland, springing back quickly. &quot;I'm much
+obliged, Jean. If it wasn't for the moral effect of the thing I'd shake
+hands with you on that. How far ahead of us do you suppose they are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had fallen on his knees in the trail.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The crust is freshly broken,&quot; he said after a moment. &quot;They have been
+gone not less than two or three hours, perhaps since morning. See this
+white glistening surface over the first trail, M'seur, like a billion
+needle-points growing out of it? That is the work of three or four
+days' cold. The first sledge passed that long ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned and picked up Croisset's rifle. The Frenchman watched him
+as he slipped a clip full of cartridges into the breech.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If there's a snack of cold stuff in the pack dig it out,&quot; he commanded.
+&quot;We'll eat on the run, if you've got anything to eat. If you haven't,
+we'll go hungry. We're going to overtake that sledge sometime this
+afternoon or to-night--or bust!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The saints be blessed, then we are most certain to bust, M'seur,&quot;
+gasped Jean. &quot;And if we don't the dogs will. Non, it is impossible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there anything to eat?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A morsel of cold meat--that is all. But I say that it is impossible.
+That sledge--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland interrupted him with an impatient gesture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I say that if there is anything to eat in there, get it out, and be
+quick about it, Croisset. We're going to overtake those precious
+friends of yours, and I warn you that if you make any attempt to lose
+time something unpleasant is going to happen. Understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean had bent to unstrap one end of the sledge pack and an angry flash
+leaped into his eyes at the threatening tone of the engineer's voice.
+For a moment he seemed on the point of speech, but caught himself and in
+silence divided the small chunk of meat which he drew from the pack,
+giving the larger share to Howland as he went to the head of the dogs.
+Only once or twice during the next hour did he look back, and after each
+of these glances he redoubled his efforts at urging on the huskies.
+Before they had come to the edge of the black banskian forest which Jean
+had pointed out from the farther side of the plain, Howland saw that the
+pace was telling on the team. The leader was trailing lame, and now and
+then the whole pack would settle back in their traces, to be urged on
+again by the fierce cracking of Croisset's long whip. To add to his own
+discomfiture Howland found that he could no longer keep up with Jean
+and the dogs, and with his weight added to the sledge the huskies
+settled down into a tugging walk.</p>
+
+<p>Thus they came into the deep low forest, and Jean, apparently oblivious
+of the exhaustion of both man and dogs, walked now in advance of the
+team, his eyes constantly on the thin trail ahead. Howland could not
+fail to see that his unnecessary threat of a few hours before still
+rankled in the Frenchman's mind, and several times he made an effort to
+break the other's taciturnity. But Jean strode on in moody silence,
+answering only those things which were put to him directly, and speaking
+not an unnecessary word. At last the engineer jumped from the sledge and
+overtook his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on, Jean,&quot; he cried. &quot;I've got enough. You're right, and I want to
+apologize. We're busted--that is, the dogs and I are busted, and we
+might as well give it up until we've had a feed. What do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say that you have stopped just in time, M'seur,&quot; replied Croisset
+with purring softness. &quot;Another half hour and we would have been through
+the forest, and just beyond that--in the edge of the plain--are those
+whom you seek, Meleese and her people. That is what I started to tell
+you back there when you shut me up. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, if it were not for
+Meleese I would let you go on. And then--what would happen then, M'seur,
+if you made your visit to them in broad day? Listen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean lifted a warning hand. Faintly there came to them through the
+forest the distant baying of a hound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is one of our dogs from the Mackenzie country,&quot; he went on softly,
+an insinuating triumph in his low voice. &quot;Now, M'seur, that I have
+brought you here what are you going to do? Shall we go on and take
+dinner with those who are going to kill you, or will you wait a few
+hours? Eh, which shall it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland stood motionless, stunned by the Frenchman's words.
+Quickly he recovered himself. His eyes burned with a metallic gleam as
+they met the half taunt in Croisset's cool smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I had not stopped you--we would have gone on?&quot; he questioned
+tensely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To be sure, M'seur,&quot; retorted Croisset, still smiling. &quot;You warned me
+to lose no time--that something would happen if I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a quick movement Howland drew his revolver and leveled it at the
+Frenchman's heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you ever prayed to those blessed saints of yours, do it now, Jean
+Croisset. I'm going to kill you!&quot; he cried fiercely.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE GLEAM OF THE LIGHT</h3>
+
+<p>In a single breath the face of Jean Croisset became no more than a mask
+of what it had been. The taunting smile left his lips and a gray pallor
+spread over his face as he saw Howland's finger crooked firmly on the
+trigger of his revolver. In another instant there came the sound of a
+metallic snap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Damnation! An empty cartridge!&quot; Howland exclaimed. &quot;I forgot to load
+after those three shots at the cup. It's coming this time, Jean!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Purposely he snapped the second empty cartridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great God!&quot; gasped Jean. &quot;M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From deep in the forest came again the baying of the Mackenzie hound.
+This time it was much nearer, and for a moment Howland's eyes left the
+Frenchman's terrified face as he turned his head to listen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are coming!&quot; exclaimed Croisset. &quot;M'seur, I swear to--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again Howland's pistol covered his heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then it is even more necessary that I kill you,&quot; he said with frightful
+calmness. &quot;I warned you that I would kill you if you led me into a trap,
+Croisset. The dogs are bushed. There is no way out of this but to
+fight--if there are people coming down the trail. Listen to that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time, from still nearer, came the shout of a man, and then of
+another, followed by the huskies' sharp yelping as they started afresh
+on the trail. The flush of excitement that had come into Howland's face
+paled until he stood as white as the Frenchman. But it was not the
+whiteness of fear. His eyes were like blue steel flashing in
+the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is nothing to do but fight,&quot; he repeated, even more calmly than
+before. &quot;If we were a mile or two back there it could all happen as I
+planned it. But here--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They will hear the shots,&quot; cried Jean. &quot;The post is no more than a
+gunshot beyond the forest, and there are plenty there who would come out
+to see what it means. Quick, M'seur--follow me. Possibly they are
+hunters going out to the trap-lines. If it comes to the worst--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What then?&quot; demanded Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can shoot me a little later,&quot; temporized the Frenchman with a show
+of his old coolness. &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I am afraid of that gun, M'seur. I
+will get you out of this if I can. Will you give me the chance--or will
+you shoot?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will shoot--if you fail,&quot; replied the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Barely were the words out of his mouth when Croisset sprang to the head
+of the dogs, seized the leader by his neck-trace and half dragged the
+team and sledge through the thick bush that edged the trail. A dozen
+paces farther on the dense scrub opened into the clearer run of the
+low-hanging banskian through which Jean started at a slow trot, with
+Howland a yard behind him, and the huskies following with human-like
+cleverness in the sinuous twistings of the trail which the Frenchman
+marked out for them. They had progressed not more than three hundred
+yards when there came to them for a third time the hallooing of a voice.
+With a sharp &quot;hup, hup,&quot; and a low crack of his whip Jean stopped
+the dogs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Virgin be praised, but that is luck!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;They have
+turned off into another trail to the east, M'seur. If they had come on
+to that break in the bush where we dragged the sledge through--&quot; He
+shrugged his shoulders with a gasp of relief. &quot;<i>Sacre</i>, they would not
+be fools enough to pass it without wondering!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland had broken the breech of his revolver and was replacing the
+three empty cartridges with fresh ones.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no mistake next time,&quot; he said, holding out the weapon.
+&quot;You were as near your death a few moments ago as ever before in your
+life, Croisset--and now for a little plain understanding between us.
+Until we stopped out there I had some faith in you. Now I have none. I
+regard you as my worst enemy, and though you are deuced near to your
+friends I tell you that you were never in a tighter box in your life. If
+I fail in my mission here, you shall die. If others come along that
+trail before dark, and run us down, I will kill you. Unless you make it
+possible for me to see and talk with Meleese I will kill you. Your life
+hangs on my success; with my failure your death is as certain as the
+coming of night. I am going to put a bullet through you at the slightest
+suspicion of treachery. Under the circumstances what do you propose
+to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad that you changed your mind, M'seur, and I will not tempt you
+again. I will do the best that I can,&quot; said Jean. Through a narrow break
+in the tops of the banskian pines a few feathery flakes of snow were
+falling, and Jean lifted his eyes to the slit of gray sky above them.
+&quot;Within an hour it will be snowing heavily,&quot; he affirmed. &quot;If they do
+not run across our trail by that time, M'seur, we shall be safe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way through the forest again, more slowly and with greater
+caution than before, and whenever he looked over his shoulder he caught
+the dull gleam of Howland's revolver as it pointed at the hollow of
+his back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil, but you make me uncomfortable,&quot; he protested. &quot;The hammer is
+up, too, M'seur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is up,&quot; said Howland grimly. &quot;And it never leaves your back,
+Croisset. If the gun should go off accidentally it would bore a hole
+clean through you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later the Frenchman halted where the banskians climbed the
+side of a sloping ridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you could trust me I would ask to go on ahead,&quot; whispered Jean.
+&quot;This ridge shuts in the plain, M'seur, and just over the top of it is
+an old cabin which has been abandoned for many years. There is not one
+chance in a thousand of there being any one there, though it is a good
+fox ridge at this season. From it you may see the light in Meleese's
+window at night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did not stop to watch the effect of his last words, but began picking
+his way up the ridge with the dogs tugging at his heels. At the top he
+swung sharply between two huge masses of snow-covered rock, and in the
+lee of the largest of these, almost entirely sheltered from the drifts
+piled up by easterly winds, they came suddenly on a small log hut. About
+it there were no signs of life. With unusual eagerness Jean scanned the
+surface of the snow, and when he saw that there was trail of neither man
+nor beast in the unbroken crust a look of relief came into his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, so far I have saved my hide,&quot; he grinned. &quot;Now, M'seur,
+look for yourself and see if Jean Croisset has not kept his word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A dozen steps had taken him through a screen of shrub to the opposite
+slope of the ridge. With outstretched arm he pointed down into the
+plain, and as Howland's eyes followed its direction he stood throbbing
+with sudden excitement. Less than a quarter of a mile away, sheltered in
+a dip of the plain, were three or four log buildings rising black and
+desolate out of the white waste. One of these buildings was a large
+structure similar to that in which Howland had been imprisoned, and as
+he looked a team and sledge appeared from behind one of the cabins and
+halted close to the wall of the large building. The driver was plainly
+visible, and to Howland's astonishment he suddenly began to ascend the
+side of this wall. For the moment Howland had not thought of a stair.</p>
+
+<p>Jean's attitude drew his eyes. The Frenchman had thrust himself half out
+of the screening bushes and was staring through the telescope of his
+hands. With an exclamation he turned quickly to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look, M'seur! Do you see that man climbing the stair? I don't mind
+telling you that he is the one who hit you over the head on the trail,
+and also one of those who shut you up in the coyote. Those are his
+quarters at the post, and possibly he is going up to see Meleese. If you
+were much of a shot you could settle a score or two from here, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The figure had stopped, evidently on a platform midway up the side of
+the building. He stood for a moment as if scanning the plain between him
+and the mountain, then disappeared. Howland had not spoken a word, but
+every nerve in his body tingled strangely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You say Meleese--is there?&quot; he questioned hesitatingly. &quot;And he--who is
+that man, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning
+leisurely toward the old cabin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur, I will not tell you that,&quot; he protested. &quot;I have brought
+you to this place. I have pointed out to you the stair that leads to the
+room where you will find Meleese. You may cut me into ribbons for the
+ravens, but I will tell you no more!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again the threatening fire leaped into Howland's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will trouble you to put your hands behind your back, Croisset,&quot; he
+commanded. &quot;I am going to return a certain compliment of yours by tying
+your hands with this piece of babeesh, which you used on me.
+After that--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And after that, M'seur--&quot; urged Jean, with a touch of the old taunt in
+his voice, and stopping with his back to the engineer and his hands
+behind him. &quot;After that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will tell me all that I want to know,&quot; finished Howland, tightening
+the thong about his wrists.</p>
+
+<p>He led the way then to the cabin. The door was closed, but opened
+readily as he put his weight against it. The single room was lighted by
+a window through which a mass of snow had drifted, and contained nothing
+more than a rude table built against one of the log walls, three supply
+boxes that had evidently been employed as stools, and a cracked and
+rust-eaten sheet-iron stove that had from all appearances long passed
+into disuse. He motioned the Frenchman to a seat at one end of the
+table. Without a word he then went outside, securely toggled the leading
+dog, and returning, closed the door and seated himself at the end of the
+table opposite Jean.</p>
+
+<p>The light from the open window fell full on Croisset's dark face and
+shone in a silvery streak along the top of Howland's revolver as the
+muzzle of it rested casually on a line with the other's breast. There
+was a menacing click as the engineer drew back the hammer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, my dear Jean, we're ready to begin the real game,&quot; he explained.
+&quot;Here we are, high and dry, and down there--just far enough away to be
+out of hearing of this revolver when I shoot--are those we're going to
+play against. So far I've been completely in the dark. I know of no
+reason why I shouldn't go down there openly and be welcomed and given a
+good supper. And yet at the same time I know that my life wouldn't be
+worth a tinker's damn if I <i>did</i> go down. You can clear up the whole
+business, and that's what you're going to do. When I understand why I am
+scheduled to be murdered on sight I won't be handicapped as I now am. So
+go ahead and spiel. If you don't, I'll blow your head off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and
+defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may shoot, M'seur,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;I have sworn on a cross of
+the Virgin to tell you no more than I have. You could not torture me
+into revealing what you ask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Howland raised his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Once more, Croisset--will you tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A deafening explosion filled the little cabin. From the lobe of Jean's
+ear there ran a red trickle of blood. His face had gone deathly pale.
+But even as the bullet had stung him within an inch of his brain he had
+not flinched.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you tell me, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely
+between the Frenchman's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel. With a cry Howland
+slowly lowered his weapon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!&quot; he cried. &quot;I'd sooner
+kill a dozen men that I know than you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet and went to the door. There was still but little
+snow in the air. To the north the horizon was growing black with the
+early approach of the northern night. With a nervous laugh he
+returned to Jean.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Deuce take it if I don't feel like apologizing to you,&quot; he exclaimed.
+&quot;Does your ear hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No more than if I had scratched it with a thorn,&quot; returned Jean
+politely. &quot;You are good with the pistol, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would not profit by killing you--just now,&quot; mused Howland, seating
+himself again on the box and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as
+he looked across at the other. &quot;But that's a pretty good intimation that
+I'm desperate and mean business, Croisset. We won't quarrel about the
+things I've asked you. What I'm here for is to see Meleese. Now--how is
+that to happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For the life of me I don't know,&quot; replied Jean, as calmly as though a
+bullet had not nipped the edge of his ear a moment before. &quot;There is
+only one way I can see, M'seur, and that is to wait and watch from this
+mountain top until Meleese drives out her dogs. She has her own team,
+and in ordinary seasons frequently goes out alone or with one of the
+women at the post. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, she has had enough sledge-riding of late,
+and I doubt if she will find pleasure in her dogs for a long time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had planned to use you,&quot; said Howland, &quot;but I've lost faith in you.
+Honestly, Croisset, I believe you would stick me in the back almost as
+quickly as those murderers down there.&quot; &quot;Not in the back, M'seur,&quot;
+smiled the Frenchman, unmoved. &quot;I have had opportunities to do that.
+<i>Non</i>, since that fight back there I do not believe that I want to
+kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I would be a fool to trust you. Isn't that so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not if I gave you my word. That is something we do not break up here as
+you do down among the Wekusko people, and farther south.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you murder people for pastime--eh, my dear Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset shrugged his shoulders without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See here, Croisset,&quot; said Howland with sudden earnestness, &quot;I'm almost
+tempted to take a chance with you. Will you go down to the post
+to-night, in some way gain access to Meleese, and give her a
+message from me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the message--what would it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would bring Meleese up to this cabin--to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you sure, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am certain that it would. Will you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil take you!&quot; cried Howland angrily. &quot;If I was not certain that
+I would need you later I'd garrote you where you sit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose and went to the old stove. It was still capable of holding fire,
+and as it had grown too dark outside for the smoke to be observed from
+the post, he proceeded to prepare a supper of hot coffee and meat. Jean
+watched him in silence, and not until food and drink were on the table
+did the engineer himself break silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course, I'm not going to feed you,&quot; he said curtly, &quot;so I'll have to
+free your hands. But be careful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He placed his revolver on the table beside him after he had freed
+Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I might assassinate you with a fork!&quot; chuckled the Frenchman softly,
+his black eyes laughing over his coffee cup. &quot;I drink your health,
+M'seur, and wish you happiness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You lie!&quot; snapped Howland.</p>
+
+<p>Jean lowered the cup without drinking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's the truth, M'seur,&quot; he insisted. &quot;Since that <i>bee</i>-utiful fight
+back there I can not help but wish you happiness. I drink also to the
+happiness of Meleese, also to the happiness of those who tried to kill
+you on the trail and at the coyote. But, <i>Mon Dieu</i>, how is it all to
+come? Those at the post are happy because they believe that you are
+dead. You will not be happy until they are dead. And Meleese--how will
+all this bring happiness to her? I tell you that I am as deep in trouble
+as you, M'seur Howland. May the Virgin strike me dead if I'm not!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drank, his eyes darkening gloomily. In that moment there flashed into
+Howland's mind a memory of the battle that Jean had fought for him on
+the Great North Trail.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You nearly killed one of them--that night--at Prince Albert,&quot; he said
+slowly. &quot;I can't understand why you fought for me then and won't help me
+now. But you did. And you're afraid to go down there--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Until I have regrown a beard,&quot; interrupted Jean with a low chuckling
+laugh. &quot;You would not be the only one to die if they saw me again like
+this. But that is enough, M'seur. I will say no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jean,&quot; Howland
+apologized, as he secured the Frenchman's hands again after they had
+satisfied their hearty appetites, &quot;but unless you swear by your Virgin
+or something else that you will make no attempt to call assistance I
+shall have to gag you. What do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will make no outcry, M'seur. I give you my word for that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With another length of babeesh Howland tied his companion's legs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to investigate a little,&quot; he explained. &quot;I am not afraid of
+your voice, for if you begin to shout I will hear you first. But with
+your legs free you might take it into your head to run away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you mind spreading a blanket on the floor, M'seur? If you are
+gone long this box will grow hard and sharp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later, after he had made his prisoner as comfortable as
+possible in the cabin, Howland went again through the fringe of scrub
+bush to the edge of the ridge. Below him the plain was lost in the gloom
+of night. He could see nothing of the buildings at the post but two or
+three lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. Overhead there were
+no stars; thickening snow shut out what illumination there might have
+been in the north, and even as he stood looking into the desolation to
+the west the snow fell faster and the lights grew fainter and fainter
+until all was a chaos of blackness.</p>
+
+<p>In these moments a desire that was almost madness swept over him. Since
+his fight with Jean the swift passing of events had confined his
+thoughts to their one objective--the finding of Meleese and her people.
+He had assured himself that his every move was to be a cool and
+calculating one, that nothing--not even his great love--should urge him
+beyond that reason which had made him a master-builder among men. As he
+stood with the snow falling heavily on him he knew that his trail would
+be covered before another day--that for an indefinite period he might
+safely wait and watch for Meleese on the mountain top. And yet, slowly,
+he made his way down the side of the ridge. A little way out there in
+the gloom, barely beyond the call of his voice, was the girl for whom he
+was willing to sacrifice all that he had ever achieved in life. With
+each step the desire in him grew--the impulse to bring himself nearer to
+her, to steal across the plain, to approach in the silent smother of the
+storm until he could look on the light which Jean Croisset had told him
+would gleam from her window.</p>
+
+<p>He descended to the foot of the ridge and headed into the plain, taking
+the caution to bury his feet deep in the snow that he might have a trail
+to guide him back to the cabin. At first he found himself impeded by low
+bush. Then the plain became more open, and he knew that there was
+nothing but the night and the snow to shut out his vision ahead. Still
+he had no motive, no reason for what he did. The snow would cover his
+tracks before morning. There would be no harm done, and he might get a
+glimpse of the light, of <i>her</i> light.</p>
+
+<p>It came on his vision with a suddenness that set his heart leaping. A
+dog barked ahead of him, so near that he stopped in his tracks, and then
+suddenly there shot through the snow-gloom the bright gleam of a lamp.
+Before he had taken another breath he was aware of what had happened. A
+curtain had been drawn aside in the chaos ahead. He was almost on the
+walls of the post--and the light gleamed from high, up, from the head of
+the stair!</p>
+
+<p>For a space he stood still, listening and watching. There was no other
+light, no other sound after the barking of the dog. About him the snow
+fell with fluttering noiselessness and it filled him with a sensation of
+safety. The sharpest eyes could not see him, the keenest ears could not
+hear him--and he advanced again until before him there rose out of the
+gloom a huge shadowy mass that was blacker than the night itself. The
+one lighted window was plainly visible now, its curtain two-thirds
+drawn, and as he looked a shadow passed over it. Was it a woman's
+shadow? The window darkened as the figure within came nearer to it, and
+Howland stood with clenched hands and wildly beating heart, almost ready
+to call out softly a name. A little nearer--one more step--and he would
+know. He might throw a chunk of snow-crust, a cartridge from his
+belt--and then--</p>
+
+<p>The shadow disappeared. Dimly Howland made out the snow-covered stair,
+and he went to it and looked up. Ten feet above him the light shone out.</p>
+
+<p>He looked into the gloom behind him, into the gloom out of which he had
+come. Nothing--nothing but the storm. Swiftly he mounted the stair.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>IN THE BEDROOM CHAMBER</h3>
+
+<p>Flattening himself closely against the black logs of the wall Howland
+paused on the platform at the top of the stair. His groping hand touched
+the jam of a door and he held his breath when his fingers incautiously
+rattled the steel of a latch. In another moment he passed on, three
+paces---four--along the platform, at last sinking on his knees in the
+snow, close under the window, his eyes searched the lighted room an inch
+at a time. He saw a section of wall at first, dimly illuminated; then a
+small table near the window covered with books and magazines, and beside
+it a reclining chair buried thick under a great white bear robe. On the
+table, but beyond his vision, was the lamp. He drew himself a few inches
+more through the snow, leaning still farther ahead, until he saw the
+foot of a white bed. A little more and he stopped, his white face close
+to the window-pane.</p>
+
+<p>On the bed, facing him, sat Meleese. Her chin was buried in the cup of
+her hands, and he noticed that she was in a dressing-gown and that her
+beautiful hair was loosed and flowing in glistening waves about her, as
+though she had just brushed it for the night. A movement, a slight
+shifting of her eyes, and she would have seen him.</p>
+
+<p>He was filled with an almost mastering impulse to press his face closer,
+to tap on the window, to draw her eyes to him, but even as his hand rose
+to do the bidding of that impulse something restrained him. Slowly the
+girl lifted her head, and he was thrilled to find that another impulse
+drew him back until his ghostly face was a part of the elusive
+snow-gloom. He watched her as she turned from him and threw back the
+glory of her hair until it half hid her in a mass of copper and gold;
+from his distance he still gazed at her, choking and undecided, while
+she gathered it in three heavy strands and plaited it into a
+shining braid.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant his eyes wandered. Beyond her presence the room was
+empty. He saw a door, and observed that it opened into another room,
+which in turn could be entered through the platform door behind him.
+With his old exactness for detail he leaped to definite conclusion.
+These were Meleese's apartments at the post, separated from all
+others--and Meleese was preparing to retire for the night. If the outer
+door was not locked, and he entered, what danger could there be of
+interruption? It was late. The post was asleep. He had seen no light but
+that in the window through which he was staring.</p>
+
+<p>The thought was scarcely born before he was at the platform door. The
+latch clicked gently under his fingers; cautiously he pushed the door
+inward and thrust in his head and shoulders. The air inside was cold and
+frosty. He reached out an arm to the right and his hand encountered the
+rough-hewn surface of a wall; he advanced a step and reached out to the
+left. There, too, his hand touched a wall. He was in a narrow: corridor.
+Ahead of him there shone a thin ray of light from under the door that
+opened into Meleese's room. Nerving himself for the last move, he went
+boldly to the door, knocked lightly to give some warning of his
+presence, and entered. Meleese was gone. He closed the door behind him,
+scarce believing his eyes. Then at the far end of the room he saw a
+curtain, undulating slightly as if from the movement of a person on the
+other side of it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot; he called softly.</p>
+
+<p>White and dripping with snow, his face bloodless in the tense excitement
+of the moment, he stood with his arms half reaching out when the curtain
+was thrust aside and the girl stood before him. At first she did not
+recognize him in his ghostly storm-covered disguise. But before the
+startled cry that was on her lips found utterance the fear that had
+blanched her face gave place to a swift sweeping flood of color. For a
+space there was no word between them as they stood separated by the
+breadth of the room, Howland with his arms held out to her in pleading
+silence, Meleese with her hands clutched to her bosom, her throat
+atremble with strange sobbing notes that made no more sound than the
+fluttering of a bird's wing.</p>
+
+<p>And Howland, as he came across the room to her, found no words to
+say--none of the things that he had meant to whisper to her, but drew
+her to him and crushed her close to his breast, knowing that in this
+moment nothing could tell her more eloquently than the throbbing of his
+own heart, the passionate pressure of his face to her face, of his great
+love which seemed to stir into life the very silence that
+encompassed them.</p>
+
+<p>It was a silence broken after a moment by a short choking cry, the
+quick-breathing terror of a face turned suddenly up to him robbed of its
+flush and quivering with a fear that still found no voice in words. He
+felt the girl's arms straining against him for freedom; her eyes were
+filled with a staring, questioning horror, as though his presence had
+grown into a thing of which she was afraid. The change was tonic to him.
+This was what he had expected---the first terror at his presence, the
+struggle against his will, and there surged back over him the forces he
+had reserved for this moment. He opened his arms and Meleese slipped
+from them, her hands clutched again in the clinging drapery of
+her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come for you, Meleese,&quot; he said as calmly as though his arrival
+had been expected. &quot;Jean is my prisoner. I forced him to drive me to the
+old cabin up on the mountain, and he is waiting there with the dogs. We
+will start back to-night--<i>now</i>.&quot; Suddenly he sprang to her again, his
+voice breaking in a low pleading cry. &quot;My God, don't you see now how I
+love you?&quot; he went on, taking her white face between his two hands.
+&quot;Don't you understand, Meleese? Jean and I have fought--he is bound hand
+and foot up there in the cabin--and I am waiting for you--for you--&quot; He
+pressed her face against him, her lips so close that he could feel
+their quavering breath. &quot;I have come to fight for you--if you won't go,&quot;
+he whispered tensely. &quot;I don't know why your people have tried to kill
+me, I don't know why they want to kill me, and it makes no difference to
+me now. I want you. I've wanted you since that first glimpse of your
+face through the window, since the fight on the trail--every minute,
+every hour, and I won't give you up as long as I'm alive. If you won't
+go with me--if you won't go now--to-night--&quot; He held her closer, his
+voice trembling in her hair. &quot;If you won't go--I'm going to stay
+with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a thrillingly decisive note in his last words, a note that
+carried with it more than all he had said before, and as Meleese partly
+drew away from him again she gave a sharp cry of protest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No--no--no--&quot; she panted, her hands clutching at his arm. &quot;You must go
+back now--now--&quot; She pushed him toward the door, and as he backed a
+step, looking down into her face, he saw the choking tremble of her
+white throat, heard again the fluttering terror in her breath. &quot;They
+will kill you if they find you here,&quot; she urged. &quot;They think you are
+dead--that you fell through the ice and were drowned. If you don't
+believe me, if you don't believe that I can never go with you,
+tell Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her words seemed to choke her as she struggled to finish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell Jean what?&quot; he questioned softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go--then?&quot; she cried with sobbing eagerness, as if
+he already understood her. &quot;Will you go back if Jean tells you
+everything--everything about me--about--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you only knew--then you would go back, and never see me again. You
+would understand--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will never understand,&quot; He interrupted again. &quot;I say that it is you
+who do not understand, Meleese! I don't care what Jean would tell me.
+Nothing that has ever happened can make me not want you. Don't you
+understand? Nothing, I say--nothing that has happened--that can ever
+happen--unless--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stopped, looking straight into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--nothing in the world, Meleese,&quot; he repeated almost in a
+whisper, &quot;unless you did not tell me the truth back on the trail at
+Wekusko when you said that it was not a sin to love you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I tell you--if I confess that it is a sin, that I lied back
+there--then will you go?&quot; she demanded quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes flamed on him with a strange light.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he said calmly. &quot;I would not believe you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it is the truth. I lied--lied terribly to you. I have sinned even
+more terribly, and--and you must go. Don't you understand me now? If
+some one should come--and find you here--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There would be a fight,&quot; he said grimly. &quot;I have come prepared to
+fight.&quot; He waited a moment, and in the silence the brown head in front
+of him dropped slowly and he saw a tremor pass through the slender form,
+as if it had been torn by an instant's pain. The pallor had gone from
+Howland's face. The mute surrender in the bowed head, the soft sobbing
+notes that he heard now in the girl's breath, the confession that he
+read in her voiceless grief set his heart leaping, and again he drew her
+close into his arms and turned her face up to his own. There was no
+resistance now, no words, no pleading for him to go; but in her eyes he
+saw the prayerful entreaty with which she had come to him on the Wekusko
+trail, and in the quivering red mouth the same torture and love and
+half-surrender that had burned themselves into his soul there. Love,
+triumph, undying faith shone in his eyes, and he crushed her face closer
+until the lovely mouth lay pouted like a crimson rose for him to kiss.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You--you told me something that wasn't true--once--back there,&quot; he
+whispered, &quot;and you promised that you wouldn't do it again. You haven't
+sinned--in the way that I mean, and in the way that you want me to
+believe.&quot; His arms tightened still more about her, and his voice was
+suddenly filled with a tense quick eagerness. &quot;Why don't you tell me
+everything?&quot; he asked. &quot;You believe that if I knew certain things I
+would never want to see you again, that I would go back into the South.
+You have told me that. Then--if you want me to go--why don't you reveal
+these things to me? If you can't do that, go with me to-night. We will
+go anywhere--to the ends of the earth--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped at the look that had come into her face. Her eyes were turned
+to the window. He saw them filled with a strange terror, and
+involuntarily his own followed them to where the storm was beating
+softly against the window-pane. Close to the lighted glass was pressed a
+man's face. He caught a flashing glimpse of a pair of eyes staring in
+at them, of a thick, wild beard whitened by the snow. He knew the face.
+When life seemed slipping out of his throat he had looked up into it
+that night of the ambush on the Great North Trail. There was the same
+hatred, the same demoniac fierceness in it now.</p>
+
+<p>With a quick movement Howland sprang away from the girl and leveled his
+revolver to where the face had been. Over the shining barrel he saw only
+the taunting emptiness of the storm. Scarcely had the face disappeared
+when there came the loud shout of a man, the hoarse calling of a name,
+and then of another, and after that the quick, furious opening of the
+outer door.</p>
+
+<p>Howland whirled, his weapon pointing to the only entrance. The girl was
+ahead of him and with a warning cry he swung the muzzle of his gun
+upward. In a moment she had pushed the bolt that locked the room from
+the inside, and had leaped back to him, her face white, her breath
+breaking in fear. She spoke no word, but with a moan of terror caught
+him by the arm and pulled him past the light and beyond the thick
+curtain that had hidden her when he had entered the room a few minutes
+before. They were in a second room, palely lighted by a mass of coals
+gleaming through the open door of a box stove, and with a second window
+looking out into the thick night. Fiercely she dragged him to this
+window, her fingers biting deep into the flesh of his arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must go--through this!&quot; she cried chokingly. &quot;Quick! O, my God,
+won't you hurry? Won't you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland had stopped. From the blackness of the corridor there came the
+beat of heavy fists on the door and the rage of a thundering voice
+demanding admittance. From out in the night it was answered by the sharp
+barking of a dog and the shout of a second voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why should I go?&quot; he asked. &quot;I told you a few moments ago that I had
+come prepared to fight, Meleese. I shall stay--and fight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please--please go!&quot; she sobbed, striving to pull him nearer to the
+window. &quot;You can get away in the storm. The snow will cover your trail.
+If you stay they will kill you--kill you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I prefer to fight and be killed rather than to run away without you,&quot;
+he interrupted. &quot;If you will go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She crushed herself against his breast.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't go--now--this way--&quot; she urged. &quot;But I will come to you. I
+promise that--I will come to you.&quot; For an instant her hands clasped his
+face. &quot;Will you go--if I promise you that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You swear that you will follow me--that you will come down to the
+Wekusko? My God, are you telling me the truth, Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, I will come to you--if you go now.&quot; She broke from him and he
+heard her fumbling at the window. &quot;I will come--I will come--but not to
+Wekusko. They will follow you there. Go back to Prince Albert--to the
+hotel where I looked at you through the window. I will come
+there--sometime--as soon as I can--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A blast of cold air swept into his face. He had thrust his revolver
+into its holster and now again for an instant he held Meleese close
+in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be my wife?&quot; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>He felt her throbbing against him. Suddenly her arms tightened around
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, if you want me then--if you want me after you know what I am. Now,
+go--please, please go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself through the window, hanging for a last moment to the
+ledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you fail to come--within a month--I shall return,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands were at his face again. Once more, as on the trail at Le Pas,
+he felt the sweet pressure of her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will come,&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands thrust him back and he was forced to drop to the snow below.
+Scarcely had his feet touched when there sounded the fierce yelp of a
+dog close to him, and as he darted away into the smother of the storm
+the brute followed at his heels, barking excitedly in the manner of the
+mongrel curs that had found their way up from the South. Between the
+dog's alarm and the loud outcry of men there was barely time in which to
+draw a breath. From the stair platform came a rapid fusillade of rifle
+shots that sang through the air above Howland's head, and mingled with
+the fire was a hoarse voice urging on the cur that followed within a
+leap of his heels.</p>
+
+<p>The presence of the dog filled the engineer with a fear that he had not
+anticipated. Not for an instant did the brute give slack to his tongue
+as they raced through the night, and Howland knew now that the storm and
+the darkness were of little avail in his race for life. There was but
+one chance, and he determined to take it. Gradually he slackened his
+pace, drawing and cocking his revolver; then he turned suddenly to
+confront the yelping Nemesis behind him. Three times he fired in quick
+succession at a moving blot in the snow-gloom, and there went up from
+that blot a wailing cry that he knew was caused by the deep bite
+of lead.</p>
+
+<p>Again he plunged on, a muffled shout of defiance on his lips. Never had
+the fire of battle raged in his veins as now. Back in the window,
+listening in terror, praying for him, was Meleese. The knowledge that
+she was there, that at last he had won her and was fighting for her,
+stirred him with a joy that was next to madness. Nothing could stop him
+now. He loaded his revolver as he ran, slackening his pace as he covered
+greater distance, for he knew that in the storm his trail could be
+followed scarcely faster than a walk.</p>
+
+<p>He gave no thought to Jean Croisset, bound hand and foot in the little
+cabin on the mountain. Even as he had clung to the window for that last
+moment it had occurred to him that it would be folly to return to the
+Frenchman. Meleese had promised to come to him, and he believed her, and
+for that reason Jean was no longer of use to him. Alone he would lose
+himself in that wilderness, alone work his way into the South, trusting
+to his revolver for food, and to his compass and the matches in his
+pocket for life. There would be no sledge-trail for his enemies to
+follow, no treachery to fear. It would take a thousand men to find him
+after the night's storm had covered up his retreat, and if one should
+find him they two would be alone to fight it out.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stopped to listen and stare futilely into the blackness
+behind him. When he turned to go on his heart stood still. A shadow had
+loomed out of the night half a dozen paces ahead of him, and before he
+could raise his revolver the shadow was lightened by a sharp flash of
+fire. Howland staggered back, his fingers loosening their grip on his
+pistol, and as he crumpled down into the snow he heard over him the
+hoarse voice that had urged on the dog. After that there was a space of
+silence, of black chaos in which he neither reasoned nor lived, and when
+there came to him faintly the sound of other voices. Finally all of
+them were lost in one--a moaning, sobbing voice that was calling his
+name again and again, a voice that seemed to reach to him from out of an
+infinity of distance, and that he knew was the voice of Meleese. He
+strove to speak, to lift his arms, but his tongue was as lead, his arms
+as though fettered with steel bands.</p>
+
+<p>The voice died away. He lived through a cycle of speechless, painless
+night into which finally a gleam of dawn returned. He felt as if years
+were passing in his efforts to move, to lift himself out of chaos. But
+at last he won. His eyes opened, he raised himself. His first sensation
+was that he was no longer in the snow and that the storm was not beating
+into his face. Instead there encompassed him a damp dungeon-like chill.
+Everywhere there was blackness--everywhere except in one spot, where a
+little yellow eye of fire watched him and blinked at him. At first he
+thought that the eye must be miles and miles away. But it came quickly
+nearer--and still nearer--until at last he knew that it was a candle
+burning with the silence of a death taper a yard or two beyond his feet.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>JEAN'S STORY</h3>
+
+<p>It was the candle-light that dragged Howland quickly back into
+consciousness and pain. He knew that he was no longer in the snow. His
+fingers dug into damp earth as he made an effort to raise himself, and
+with that effort it seemed as though a red-hot knife had cleft him from
+the top of his skull to his chest. The agony of that instant's pain drew
+a sharp cry from him and he clutched both hands to his head, waiting and
+fearing. It did not come again and he sat up. A hundred candles danced
+and blinked before him like so many taunting eyes and turned him dizzy
+with a sickening nausea. One by one the lights faded away after that
+until there was left only the steady glow of the real candle.</p>
+
+<p>The fingers of Howland's right hand were sticky when he drew them away
+from his head, and he shivered. The tongue of flame leaping out of the
+night, the thunderous report, the deluge of fire that had filled his
+brain, all bore their meaning for him now. It had been a close call, so
+close that shivering chills ran up and down his spine as he struggled
+little by little to lift himself to his knees. His enemy's shot had
+grazed his head. A quarter of an inch more, an eighth of an inch even,
+and there would have been no awakening. He closed his eyes for a few
+moments, and when he opened them his vision had gained distance. About
+him he made out indistinctly the black encompassing walls of his prison.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed an interminable time before he could rise and stand on his
+feet and reach the candle. Slowly he felt his way along the wall until
+he came to a low, heavy door, barred from the outside, and just beyond
+this door he found a narrow aperture cut through the decaying logs. It
+was a yard in length and barely wide enough for him to thrust through an
+arm. Three more of these narrow slits in his prison walls he found
+before he came back again to the door. They reminded him of the hole
+through which he had looked out on the plague-stricken cabin at the
+<i>Maison de Mort Rouge</i>, and he guessed that through them came what
+little fresh air found its way into the dungeon.</p>
+
+<p>Near the table on which he replaced the candle was a stool, and he sat
+down. Carefully he went through his pockets. His belt and revolver were
+gone. He had been stripped of letters and papers. Not so much as a match
+had been left him by his captors.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped in his search and listened. Faintly there came to him the
+ticking of his watch. He felt in his watch pocket. It was empty. Again
+he listened. This time he was sure that the sound came from his feet and
+he lowered the candle until the light of it glistened on something
+yellow an arm's distance away. It was his watch, and close beside it lay
+his leather wallet. What money he had carried in the pocketbook was
+untouched, but his personal cards and half a dozen papers that it had
+contained were gone.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the time. The hour hand pointed to four. Was it possible
+that he had been unconscious for more than six hours? He had left Jean
+on the mountain top soon after nightfall--it was not later than nine
+o'clock when he had seen Meleese. Seven hours! Again he lifted his hands
+to his head. His hair was stiff and matted with blood. It had congealed
+thickly on his cheek and neck and had soaked the top of his coat. He had
+bled a great deal, so much that he wondered he was alive, and yet during
+those hours his captors had given him no assistance, had not even bound
+a cloth about his head.</p>
+
+<p>Did they believe that the shot had killed him, that he was already dead
+when they flung him into the dungeon? Or was this only one other
+instance of the barbaric brutishness of those who so insistently sought
+his life? The fighting blood rose in him with returning strength. If
+they had left him a weapon, even the small knife they had taken from
+his pocket, he would still make an effort to settle a last score or two.
+But now he was helpless.</p>
+
+<p>There was, however, a ray of hope in the possibility that they believed
+him dead. If they who had flung him into the dungeon believed this, then
+he was safe for several hours. No one would come for his body until
+broad day, and possibly not until the following night, when a grave
+could be dug and he could be carried out with some secrecy. In that
+time, if he could escape from his prison, he would be well on his way to
+the Wekusko. He had no doubt that Jean was still a prisoner on the
+mountain top. The dogs and sledge were there and both rifles were where
+he had concealed them. It would be a hard race--a running fight
+perhaps--but he would win, and after a time Meleese would come to him,
+away down at the little hotel on the Saskatchewan.</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, his blood growing warm, his eyes shining in the
+candle-light. The thought of the girl as she had come to him out in the
+night put back into him all of his old fighting strength, all of his
+unconquerable hope and confidence. She had followed him when the dog
+yelped at his heels, as the first shots had been fired; she had knelt
+beside him in the snow as he lay bleeding at the feet of his enemies. He
+had heard her voice calling to him, had felt the thrilling touch of her
+arms, the terror and love of her lips as she thought him dying. She had
+given herself to him; and she would come to him--his lady of the
+snows--if he could escape.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the door and shoved against it with his shoulder. It was
+immovable. Again he thrust his hand and arm through the first of the
+narrow ventilating apertures. The wood with which his fingers came in
+contact was rotting from moisture and age and he found that he could
+tear out handfuls of it. He fell to work, digging with the fierce
+eagerness of an animal. At the rate the soft pulpy wood gave way he
+could win his freedom long before the earliest risers at the post
+were awake.</p>
+
+<p>A sound stopped him, a hollow cough from out of the blackness beyond
+the dungeon wall. It was followed an instant later by a gleam of light
+and Howland darted quickly back to the table. He heard the slipping of a
+bolt outside the door and it flashed on him then that he should have
+thrown himself back into his old position on the floor. It was too late
+for this action now. The door swung open and a shaft of light shot into
+the chamber. For a space Howland was blinded by it and it was not until
+the bearer of the lamp had advanced half-way to the table that he
+recognized his visitor as Jean Croisset. The Frenchman's face was wild
+and haggard. His eyes gleamed red and bloodshot as he stared at
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I had hoped to find you dead,&quot; he whispered huskily.</p>
+
+<p>He reached up to hang the big oil lamp he carried to a hook in the log
+ceiling, and Howland sat amazed at the expression on his face. Jean's
+great eyes gleamed like living coals from out of a death-mask. Either
+fear or pain had wrought deep lines in his face. His hands trembled as
+he steadied the lamp. The few hours that had passed since Howland had
+left him a prisoner on the mountain top had transformed him into an old
+man. Even his shoulders were hunched forward with an air of weakness and
+despair as he turned from the lamp to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had hoped to find you dead, M'seur,&quot; he repeated in a voice so low it
+could not have been heard beyond the door. &quot;That is why I did not bind
+your wound and give you water when they turned you over to my care. I
+wanted you to bleed to death. It would have been easier--for both
+of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From under the table he drew forth a second stool and sat down opposite
+Howland. The two men stared at each other over the sputtering remnant of
+the candle. Before the engineer had recovered from his astonishment at
+the sudden appearance of the man whom he believed to be safely
+imprisoned in the old cabin, Croisset's shifting eyes fell on the mass
+of torn wood under the aperture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Too late, M'seur,&quot; he said meaningly. &quot;They are waiting up there now.
+It is impossible for you to escape.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is what I thought about you,&quot; replied Howland, forcing himself to
+speak coolly. &quot;How did you manage it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They came up to free me soon after they got you, M'seur. I am grateful
+to you for thinking of me, for if you had not told them I might have
+stayed there and starved like a beast in a trap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was Meleese,&quot; said Howland. &quot;I told her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean dropped his head in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have just come from Meleese,&quot; he whispered softly. &quot;She sends you her
+love, M'seur, and tells you not to give up hope. The great God, if she
+only knew--if she only knew what is about to happen! No one has told
+her. She is a prisoner in her room, and after that--after that out on
+the plain--when she came to you and fought like one gone mad to save
+you--they will not give her freedom until all is over. What time is
+it, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A clammy chill passed over Howland as he read the time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-past four.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman shivered; his fingers clasped and unclasped nervously as
+he leaned nearer his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Virgin bear me witness that I wish I might strike ten years off my
+life and give you freedom,&quot; he breathed quickly. &quot;I would do it this
+instant, M'seur. I would help you to escape if it were in any way
+possible. But they are in the room at the head of the stair--waiting.
+At six--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something seemed to choke him and he stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At six--what then?&quot; urged Howland. &quot;My God, man, what makes you look
+so? What is to happen at six?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean stiffened. A flash of the old fire gleamed in his eyes, and his
+voice was steady and clear when he spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have no time to lose in further talk like this, M'seur,&quot; he said
+almost harshly. &quot;They know now that it was I who fought for you and for
+Meleese on the Great North Trail. They know that it is I who saved you
+at Wekusko. Meleese can no more save me than she can save you, and to
+make my task a little harder they have made me their messenger, and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again he stopped, choking for words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot; insisted Howland, leaning toward him, his face as white as the
+tallow in the little dish on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Their executioner, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With his hands gripped tightly on the table in front of him Jack Howland
+sat as rigid as though an electric shock had passed through him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Great God!&quot; he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First I am to tell you a story, M'seur,&quot; continued Croisset, leveling
+his reddened eyes to the engineer's. &quot;It will not be long, and I pray
+the Virgin to make you understand it as we people of the North
+understand it. It begins sixteen years ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall understand, Jean,&quot; whispered Howland. &quot;Go on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was at one of the company's posts that it happened,&quot; Jean began,
+&quot;and the story has to do with Le M'seur, the Factor, and his wife,
+<i>L'Ange Blanc</i>--that is what she was called, M'seur--the White Angel.
+<i>Mon Dieu</i>, how we loved her! Not with a wicked love, M'seur, but with
+something very near to that which we give our Blessed Virgin. And our
+love was but a pitiful thing when compared with the love of these two,
+each for the other. She was beautiful, gloriously beautiful as we know
+women up in the big snows; like Meleese, who was the youngest of
+their children.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ours was the happiest post in all this great northland, M'seur,&quot;
+continued Croisset after a moment's pause; &quot;and it was all because of
+this woman and the man, but mostly because of the woman. And when the
+little Meleese came--she was the first white girl baby that any of us
+had ever seen--our love for these two became something that I fear was
+almost a sacrilege to our dear Lady of God. Perhaps you can not
+understand such a love, M'seur; I know that it can not be understood
+down in that world which you call civilization, for I have been there
+and have seen. We would have died for the little Meleese, and the other
+Meleese, her mother. And also, M'seur, we would have killed our own
+brothers had they as much as spoken a word against them or cast at the
+mother even as much as a look which was not the purest. That is how we
+loved her sixteen years ago this winter, M'seur, and that is how we love
+her memory still.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is dead,&quot; uttered Howland, forgetting in these tense moments the
+significance Jean's story might hold for him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; she is dead. M'seur, shall I tell you how she died?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, his lithe body
+twitching like a wolf's as he stood for an instant half leaning over
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I tell you how she died, M'seur?&quot; he repeated, falling back on
+his stool, his long arms stretched over the table. &quot;It happened like
+this, sixteen years ago, when the little Meleese was four years old and
+the oldest of the three sons was fourteen. That winter a man and his boy
+came up from Churchill. He had letters from the Factor at the Bay, and
+our Factor and his wife opened their doors to him and to his son, and
+gave them all that it was in their power to give.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, this man was from that glorious civilization of yours,
+M'seur--from that land to the south where they say that Christ's temples
+stand on every four corners, but he could not understand the strange God
+and the strange laws of our people! For months he had been away from the
+companionship of women, and in this great wilderness the Factor's wife
+came into his life as the flower blossoms in the desert. Ah, M'seur, I
+can see now how his wicked heart strove to accomplish the things, and
+how he failed because the glory of our womanhood up here has come
+straight down from Heaven. And in failing he went mad--mad with that
+passion of the race I have seen in Montreal, and then--ah, the Great
+God, M'seur, do you not understand what happened next?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset lifted his head, his face twisted in a torture that was half
+grief, half madness, and stared at Howland, with quivering nostrils and
+heaving chest. In his companion's face he saw only a dead white pallor
+of waiting, of half comprehension. He leaned over the table again,
+controlling himself by a mighty effort.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was at that time when most of us were out among the trappers, just
+before our big spring caribou roast, when the forest people came in with
+their furs, M'seur. The post was almost deserted. Do you understand? The
+woman was alone in her cabin with the little Meleese--and when we came
+back at night she was dead. Yes, M'seur, she killed herself, leaving a
+few written words to the Factor telling him what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The man and the boy escaped on a sledge after the crime. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, how
+the forest people leaped in pursuit! Runners carried the word over the
+mountains and through the swamps, and a hundred sledge parties searched
+the forest trails for the man-fiend and his son. It was the Factor
+himself and his youngest boy who found them, far out on the Churchill
+trail. And what happened then, M'seur? Just this: While the man-fiend
+urged on his dogs the son fired back with a rifle, and one of his
+bullets went straight through the heart of the pursuing Factor, so that
+in the space of one day and one night the little Meleese was made both
+motherless and fatherless by these two whom the devil had sent to
+destroy the most beautiful thing we have ever known in this North. Ah,
+M'seur, you turn white! Does it bring a vision to you now? Do you hear
+the crack of that rifle? Can you see--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My God!&quot; gasped Howland. Even now he understood nothing of what this
+tragedy might mean to him--forgot everything but that he was listening
+to the terrible tragedy that had come to the woman who was the mother of
+the girl he loved. He half rose from his seat as Croisset paused; his
+eyes glittered, his death-white face was set in tense fierce lines, his
+finger-nails dug into the board table, as he demanded, &quot;What happened
+then, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean was eying him like an animal. His voice was low.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They escaped, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a deep breath Howland sank back. In a moment he leaned again toward
+Jean as he saw come into the Frenchman's eyes a slumbering fire that a
+few seconds later blazed into vengeful malignity when he drew slowly
+from an inside pocket of his coat a small parcel wrapped and tied in
+soft buckskin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have sent you this, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;'At the very last,' they
+told me, 'let him read this.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With his eyes on the parcel, scarcely breathing, Howland waited while
+with exasperating slowness Croisset's brown fingers untied the cord that
+secured it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First you must understand what this meant to us in the North, M'seur,&quot;
+said Jean, his hands covering the parcel after he had finished with the
+cord. &quot;We are different who live up here--different from those who live
+in Montreal, and beyond. With us a lifetime is not too long to spend in
+avenging a cruel wrong. It is our honor of the North. I was fifteen
+then, and had been fostered by the Factor and his wife since the day my
+mother died of the smallpox and I dragged myself into the post, almost
+dead of starvation. So it happened that I was like a brother to Meleese
+and the other three. The years passed, and the desire for vengeance grew
+in us as we became older, until it was the one thing that we most
+desired in life, even filling the gentle heart of Meleese, whom we sent
+to school in Montreal when she was eleven, M'seur. It was three years
+later--while she was still in Montreal--that I went on one of my
+wandering searches to a post at the head of the Great Slave, and there,
+M'seur--there--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had risen. His long arms were stretched high, his head thrown
+back, his upturned face aflame with a passion that was almost that
+of prayer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I thank the great God in Heaven that it was given to Jean
+Croisset to meet one of those whom we had pledged our lives to find--and
+I slew him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stood silent, eyes partly closed, still as if in prayer. When he sank
+into his chair again the look of hatred had gone from his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was the father, and I killed him, M'seur--killed him slowly, telling
+him of what he had done as I choked the life from him; and then, a
+little at a time, I let the life back into him, forcing him to tell me
+where I would find his son, the slayer of Meleese's father. And after
+that I closed on his throat until he was dead, and my dogs dragged his
+body through three hundred miles of snow that the others might look on
+him and know that he was dead. That was six years ago, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland was scarcely breathing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the other--the son--&quot; he whispered densely. &quot;You found him,
+Croisset? You killed him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What would you have done, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland's hands gripped those that guarded the little parcel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have killed him, Jean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke slowly, deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have killed him,&quot; he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad of that, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean was unwrapping the buckskin, fold after fold of it, until at last
+there was revealed a roll of paper, soiled and yellow along the edges.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These pages are taken from the day-book at the post where the woman
+lived,&quot; he explained softly, smoothing them under his hands. &quot;Each day
+the Factor of a post keeps a reckoning of incidents as they pass, as I
+have heard that sea captains do on shipboard. It has been a company law
+for hundreds of years. We have kept these pages to ourselves, M'seur.
+They tell of what happened at our post sixteen years ago this winter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the half-breed came to Howland's side, smoothing the first
+page on the table in front of him, his slim forefinger pointing to the
+first few lines.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They came on this day,&quot; he said, his breath close to the engineer's
+ear. &quot;These are their names, M'seur--the names of the two who destroyed
+the paradise that our Blessed Lady gave to us many years ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In an instant Howland had read the lines. His blood seemed to dry in his
+veins and his heart to stand still. For these were the words he read:
+&quot;On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John
+Howland and his son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a sharp cry he sprang to his feet, overturning the stool, facing
+Croisset, his hands clenched, his body bent as if about to spring. Jean
+stood calmly, his white teeth agleam. Then, slowly, he stretched out
+a hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur John Howland, will you read what happened to the father and
+mother of the little Meleese sixteen years ago? Will you read, and
+understand why your life was sought on the Great North Trail, why you
+were placed on a case of dynamite in the Wekusko coyote, and why, with
+the coming of this morning's dawn--at six--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused, shivering. Howland seemed not to notice the tremendous effort
+Croisset was making to control himself. With the dazed speechlessness of
+one recovering from a sudden blow he turned to the table and bent over
+the papers that the Frenchman had laid out before him. Five minutes
+later he raised his head. His face was as white as chalk. Deep lines had
+settled about his mouth. As a sick man might, he lifted his hand and
+passed it over his face and through his hair. But his eyes were afire.
+Involuntarily Jean's body gathered itself as if to meet attack.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have read it,&quot; he said huskily, as though the speaking of the words
+caused him a great effort. &quot;I understand now. My name is John Howland.
+And my father's name was John Howland. I understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I understand,&quot; repeated the engineer, advancing a step. &quot;And you, Jean
+Croisset--do you believe that I am <i>that</i> John Howland--the John
+Howland--the son who--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
+thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you,&quot; replied Jean.
+&quot;Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
+their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
+beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
+are waiting above no torture is too great for you. They have condemned
+you to death. This morning, exactly as the minute hand of your watch
+counts off the hour of six, you will be shot to death through one of
+these holes in the dungeon walls. And this--this note from Meleese--is
+the last thing I have to give you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped a folded bit of paper on the table. Mechanically Howland
+reached for it. Stunned and speechless, cold with the horror of his
+death sentence, he smoothed out the note. There were only a few words,
+apparently written in great haste.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have been praying for you all night. If God fails to answer my
+prayers I will still do as I have promised--and follow you.&quot;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;Meleese.&quot;<br>
+
+<p>He heard a movement and lifted his eyes. Jean was gone. The door was
+swinging slowly inward. He heard the wooden bolt slip into place, and
+after that there was not even the sound of a moccasined foot stealing
+through the outer darkness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>MELEESE</h3>
+
+<p>For many minutes Howland stood waiting as if life had left him. His eyes
+were on the door, but unseeing. He made no sound, no movement again
+toward the aperture in the wall. Fate had dealt him the final blow, and
+when at last he roused himself from its first terrible effect there
+remained no glimmering of hope in his breast, no thought of the battle
+he had been making for freedom a short time before. The note fluttered
+from his fingers and he drew his watch from his pocket and placed it on
+the table. It was a quarter after five. There still remained
+forty-five minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Three-quarters of an hour and then--death. There was no doubt in his
+mind this time. Ever in the coyote, with eternity staring him in the
+face, he had hoped and fought for life. But here there was no hope,
+there was to be no fighting. Through one of the black holes in the wall
+he was to be shot down, with no chance to defend himself, to prove
+himself innocent. And Meleese--did she, too, believe him guilty of
+that crime?</p>
+
+<p>He groaned aloud, and picked up the note again. Softly he repeated her
+last words to him: &quot;If God fails to answer my prayers I will still do as
+I have promised, and follow you.&quot; Those words seemed to cry aloud his
+doom. Even Meleese had given up hope. And yet, was there not a deeper
+significance in her words? He started as if some one had struck him, his
+eyes agleam.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>'I will follow you.</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He almost sobbed the words this time. His hands trembled and he dropped
+the paper again on the table and turned his eyes in staring horror
+toward the door. What did she mean? Would Meleese kill herself if he was
+murdered by her brothers? He could see no other meaning in her last
+message to him, and for a time after the chilling significance of her
+words struck his heart he scarce restrained himself from calling aloud
+for Jean. If he could but send a word back to her, tell her once more of
+his great love--that the winning of that love was ample reward for all
+that he had lost and was about to lose, and that it gave him such
+happiness as he had never known even in this last hour of his torture!</p>
+
+<p>Twice he shouted for Croisset, but there came no response save the
+hollow echoings of his own voice in the subterranean chambers. After
+that he began to think more sanely. If Meleese was a prisoner in her
+room it was probable that Croisset, who was now fully recognized as a
+traitor at the post, could no longer gain access to her. In some secret
+way Meleese had contrived to give him the note, and he had performed his
+last mission for her.</p>
+
+<p>In Howland's breast there grew slowly a feeling of sympathy for the
+Frenchman. Much that he had not understood was clear to him now. He
+understood why Meleese had not revealed the names of his assailants at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, he understood why she had fled from him
+after his abduction, and why Jean had so faithfully kept secrecy for her
+sake. She had fought to save him from her own flesh and blood, and Jean
+had fought to save him, and in these last minutes of his life he would
+liked to have had Croisset with him that he might have taken has hand
+and thanked him for what he had done. And because he had fought for him
+and Meleese the Frenchman's fate was to be almost as terrible as his
+own. It was he who would fire the fatal shot at six o'clock. Not the
+brothers, but Jean Croisset, would be his executioner and murderer.</p>
+
+<p>The minutes passed swiftly, and as they went Howland was astonished to
+find how coolly he awaited the end. He even began to debate with himself
+as to through which hole the fatal shot would be fired. No matter where
+he stood he was in the light of the big hanging lamp. There was no
+obscure or shadowy corner in which for a few moments he might elude his
+executioner. He even smiled when the thought occurred to him that it
+was possible to extinguish the light and crawl under the table, thus
+gaining a momentary delay. But what would that delay avail him? He was
+anxious for the fatal minute to arrive, and be over.</p>
+
+<p>There were moments of happiness when in the damp horror of his
+death-chamber there came before him visions of Meleese, grown even
+sweeter and more lovable, now that he knew how she had sacrificed
+herself between two great loves--the love of her own people and the love
+of himself. And at last she had surrendered to him. Was it possible that
+she could have made that surrender if she, like her brothers, believed
+him to be the murderer of her father--the son of the man-fiend who had
+robbed her of a mother? It was impossible, he told himself. She did not
+believe him guilty. And yet--why had she not given him some such word in
+her last message to him?</p>
+
+<p>His eyes traveled to the note on the table and he began searching in his
+coat pockets. In one of them he found the worn stub of a pencil, and
+for many minutes after that he was oblivious to the passing of time as
+he wrote his last words to Meleese. When he had finished he folded the
+paper and placed it under his watch. At the final moment, before the
+shot was fired, he would ask Jean to take it. His eyes fell on his watch
+dial and a cry burst from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>It lacked but ten minutes of the final hour!</p>
+
+<p>Above him he heard faintly the sharp barking of dogs, the hollow sound
+of men's voices. A moment later there came to him an echo as of swiftly
+tramping feet, and after that silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean,&quot; he called tensely. &quot;Ho, Jean--Jean Croisset--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught up the paper and ran from one black opening to another,
+calling the Frenchman's name.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As you love your God, Jean, as you have a hope of Heaven, take this
+note to Meleese!&quot; he pleaded. &quot;Jean--Jean Croisset--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There came no answer, no movement outside, and Howland stilled the
+beating of his heart to listen. Surely Croisset was there! He looked
+again at the watch he held in his hand. In four minutes the shot would
+be fired. A cold sweat bathed his face. He tried to cry out again, but
+something rose in his throat and choked him until his voice was only a
+gasp. He sprang back to the table and placed the note once more under
+the watch. Two minutes! One and a half! One!</p>
+
+<p>With a sudden fearless cry he sprang into the very center of his prison,
+and flung out his arms with his face to the hole next the door. This
+time his voice was almost a shout.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean Croisset, there is a note under my watch on the table. After you
+have killed me take it to Meleese. If you fail I shall haunt you to
+your grave!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Still no sound--no gleam of steel pointing at aim through the black
+aperture. Would the shot come from behind?</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick--tick--</p>
+
+<p>He counted the beating of his watch up to twenty. A sound stopped him
+then, and he closed his eyes, and a great shiver passed through
+his body.</p>
+
+<p>It was the tiny bell of his watch tinkling off the hour of six!</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had that sound ceased to ring in his brain when from far
+through the darkness beyond the wall of his prison there came a creaking
+noise, as if a heavy door had been swung slowly on its hinges, or a trap
+opened--then voices, low, quick, excited voices, the hurrying tread of
+feet, a flash of light shooting through the gloom. They were coming!
+After all it was not to be a private affair, and Jean was to do his
+killing as the hangman's job is done in civilization--before a crowd.
+Howland's arms dropped to his side. This was more terrible than the
+other--this seeing and hearing of preparation, in which he fancied that
+he heard the click of Croisset's gun as he lifted the hammer.</p>
+
+<p>Instead it was a hand fumbling at the door. There were no voices now,
+only a strange moaning sound that he could not account for. In another
+moment it was made clear to him. The door swung open, and the
+white-robed figure of Meleese sprang toward him with a cry that echoed
+through the dungeon chambers. What happened then--the passing of white
+faces beyond the doorway, the subdued murmur of voices, were all lost to
+Howland in the knowledge that at the last moment they had let her come
+to him, that he held her in his arms, and that she was crushing her face
+to his breast and sobbing things to him which he could not understand.
+Once or twice in his life he had wondered if realities might not be
+dreams, and the thought came to him now when he felt the warmth of her
+hands, her face, her hair, and then the passionate pressure of her lips
+on his own. He lifted his eyes, and in the doorway he saw Jean Croisset,
+and behind him a wild, bearded face--the face that had been over him
+when life was almost choked from him on the Great North Trail. And
+beyond these two he saw still others, shining ghostly and indistinct in
+the deeper gloom of the outer darkness. He strained Meleese to him, and
+when he looked down into her face he saw her beautiful eyes flooded with
+tears, and yet shining with a great joy. Her lips trembled as she
+struggled to speak. Then suddenly she broke from his arms and ran to the
+door, and Jean Croisset came between them, with the wild bearded man
+still staring over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, will you come with us?&quot; said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>The bearded man dropped back into the thick gloom, and without speaking
+Howland followed Croisset, his eyes on the shadowy form of Meleese. The
+ghostly faces turned from the light, and the tread of their retreating
+feet marked the passage through the blackness. Jean fell back beside
+Howland, the huge bulk of the bearded man three paces ahead. A dozen
+steps more and they came to a stair down which a light shone. The
+Frenchman's hand fell detainingly on Howland's arm, and when a moment
+later they reached the top of the stairs all had disappeared but Jean
+and the bearded man. Dawn was breaking, and a pale light fell through
+the two windows of the room they had entered. On a table burned a lamp,
+and near the table were several chairs. To one of these Croisset
+motioned the engineer, and as Howland sat down the bearded man turned
+slowly and passed through a door. Jean shrugged his shoulders as the
+other disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, that means that he leaves it all to me,&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;I
+don't wonder that it is hard for him to talk, M'seur. Perhaps you have
+begun to understand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, a little,&quot; replied Howland. His heart was throbbing as if he had
+just finished climbing a long hill. &quot;That was the man who tried to kill
+me. But Meleese--the--&quot; He could go no further. Scarce breathing, he
+waited for Jean to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is Pierre Thoreau,&quot; he said, &quot;eldest brother to Meleese. It is he
+who should say what I am about to tell you, M'seur. But he is too full
+of grief to speak. You wonder at that? And yet I tell you that a man
+with a better soul than Pierre Thoreau never lived, though three times
+he has tried to kill you. Do you remember what you asked me a short time
+ago, M'seur--if I thought that <i>you</i> were the John Howland who murdered
+the father of Meleese sixteen years ago? God's saints, and I did until
+hardly more than half an hour ago, when some one came from the South and
+exploded a mine under our feet. It was the youngest of the three
+brothers. M'seur we have made a great mistake, and we ask your
+forgiveness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the silence the eyes of the two men met across the table. To Howland
+it was not the thought that his life was saved that came with the
+greatest force, but the thought of Meleese, the knowledge that in that
+hour when all seemed to be lost she was nearer to him than ever. He
+leaned half over the table, his hands clenched, his eyes blazing. Jean
+did not understand, for he went on quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it is hard, M'seur. Perhaps it will be impossible for you to
+forgive a thing like this. We have tried to kill you--kill you by a slow
+torture, as we thought you deserved. But think for a moment, M'seur, of
+what happened up here sixteen years ago this winter. I have told you how
+I choked life from the man-fiend. So I would have choked life from you
+if it had not been for Meleese. I, too, am guilty. Only six years ago we
+knew that the right John Howland--the son of the man I slew--was in
+Montreal, and we sent to seek him this youngest brother, for he had been
+a long time at school with Meleese and knew the ways of the South better
+than the others. But he failed to find him at that time, and it was only
+a short while ago that this brother located you.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As Our Blessed Lady is my witness, M'seur, it is not strange that he
+should have taken you for the man we sought, for it is singular that you
+bear him out like a brother in looks, as I remember the boy. It is true
+that Fran&ccedil;ois made a great error when he sent word to his brothers
+suggesting that if either Gregson or Thorne was put out of the way you
+would probably be sent into the North. I swear by the Virgin that
+Meleese knew nothing of this, M'seur. She knew nothing of the schemes by
+which her brothers drove Gregson and Thorne back into the South. They
+did not wish to kill them, and yet it was necessary to do something that
+you might replace one of them, M'seur. They did not make a move alone
+but that something happened. Gregson lost a finger. Thorne was badly
+hurt--as you know. Bullets came through their window at night. With
+Jackpine in their employ it was easy to work on them, and it was not
+long before they sent down asking for another man to replace them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time a surge of anger swept through Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The cowards!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;A pretty pair, Croisset--to crawl out from
+under a trap to let another in at the top!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps not so bad as that,&quot; said Jean. &quot;They were given to understand
+that they--and they alone--were not wanted in the country. It may be
+that they did not think harm would come to you, and so kept quiet about
+what had happened. It may be, too, that they did not like to have it
+known that they were running away from danger. Is not that human,
+M'seur? Anyway, you were detailed to come, and not until then did
+Meleese know of all that had occurred.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman stopped for a moment. The glare had faded from Howland's
+eyes. The tense lines in his face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I--I--believe I understand everything now, Jean,&quot; he said. &quot;You traced
+the wrong John Howland, that's all. I love Meleese, Jean. I would kill
+John Howland for her. I want to meet her brothers and shake their hands.
+I don't blame them. They're men. But, somehow, it hurts to think of
+her--of Meleese--as--as almost a murderer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, M'seur, has she not saved your life! Listen to this! It
+was then--when she knew what had happened--that Meleese came to me--whom
+she had made the happiest man in the world because it was she who
+brought my Mariane over from Churchill on a visit especially that I
+might see her and fall in love with her, M'seur--which I did. Meleese
+came to me--to Jean Croisset--and instead of planning your murder,
+M'seur, she schemed to save your life--with me--who would have cut you
+into bits no larger than my finger and fed you to the carrion ravens,
+who would have choked the life out of you until your eyes bulged in
+death, as I choked that one up on the Great Slave! Do you understand,
+M'seur? It was Meleese who came and pleaded with me to save your
+life--before you had left Chicago, before she had heard more of you than
+your name, before--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset hesitated, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Before what, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Before she had learned to love you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God bless her!&quot; exclaimed Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You believe this, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As I believe in a God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will tell you what she did, M'seur,&quot; he continued in a low
+voice. &quot;The plan of the brothers was to make you a prisoner near Prince
+Albert and bring you north. I knew what was to happen then. It was to be
+a beautiful vengeance, M'seur--a slow torturing death on the spot where
+the crime was committed sixteen years ago. But Meleese knew nothing of
+this. She was made to believe that up here, where the mother and father
+died, you would be given over to the proper law--to the mounted police
+who come this way now and then. She is only a girl, M'seur, easily made
+to believe strange things in such matters as these, else she would have
+wondered why you were not given to the officers in Prince Albert. It was
+the eldest brother who thought of her as a lure to bring you out of the
+town into their hands, and not until the last moment, when they were
+ready to leave for the South, did she overhear words that aroused her
+suspicions that they were about to kill you. It was then, M'seur, that
+she came to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the day that Mariane promised to become my wife, M'seur, I promised
+in Our Blessed Lady's name to repay my debt to Meleese, and the manner
+of payment came in this fashion. Jackpine, too, was her slave, and so we
+worked together. Two hours after Meleese and her brothers had left for
+the South I was following them, shaven of beard and so changed that I
+was not recognized in the fight on the Great North Trail. Meleese
+thought that her brothers would make you a prisoner that night without
+harming you. Her brothers told her how to bring you to their camp. She
+knew nothing of the ambush until they leaped on you from cover. Not
+until after the fight, when in their rage at your escape the brothers
+told her that they had intended to kill you, did she realize fully what
+she had done. That is all, M'seur. You know what happened after that.
+She dared not tell you at Wekusko who your enemies were, for those
+enemies were of her own flesh and blood, and dearer to her than life.
+She was between two great loves, M'seur--the love for her
+brothers and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again Jean hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And her love for me,&quot; finished Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, her love for you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two men rose from the table, and for a moment stood with clasped
+hands in the smoky light of lamp and dawn. In that moment neither heard
+a tap at the door leading to the room beyond, nor saw the door move
+gently inward, and Meleese, hesitating, framed in the opening.</p>
+
+<p>It was Howland who spoke first.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thank God that all these things have happened, Jean,&quot; he said
+earnestly. &quot;I am glad that for a time you took me for that other John
+Howland, and that Pierre Thoreau and his brothers schemed to kill me at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, for if these things had not occurred as they
+have I would never have seen Meleese. And now, Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His ears caught sound of movement, and he turned in time to see Meleese
+slipping quietly out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot; he called softly. &quot;Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In an instant he had darted after her, leaving Jean beside the table.
+Beyond the door there was only the breaking gloom of the gray mornings
+but it was enough for him to see faintly the figure of the girl he
+loved, half turned, half waiting for him. With a cry of joy he sprang
+forward and gathered her close in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese--my Meleese--&quot; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>After that there came no sound from the dawn-lit room beyond, but Jean
+Croisset, still standing by the table, murmured softly to himself: &quot;Our
+Blessed Lady be praised, for it is all as Jean Croisset would have
+it--and now I can go to my Mariane!&quot;</p>
+
+<br>
+<hr class="full">
+<pre>
+
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10696 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+Title: The Danger Trail
+
+Author: James Oliver Curwood
+
+Release Date: January 12, 2004  [eBook #10696]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: iso-8859-1
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DANGER TRAIL***
+
+</pre>
+<center><h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Charlie Kirschner,<br>
+            and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3></center>
+
+<hr class="full">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>THE DANGER TRAIL</h2>
+
+<h3>By</h3>
+
+<h2>JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD</h2>
+
+<h3>1910</h3>
+
+
+
+<br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br><br>
+<h3>CONTENTS</h3>
+<br>
+
+
+<table>
+
+<tr><td align="right">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</td> <td></td>
+<tr><td align="right">I.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER I" >The Girl of the Snows</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">II.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_II" >Lips That Speak Not</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">III.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_III" >The Mysterious Attack</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">IV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV" >The Warning</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">V.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER_V" >Howland's Midnight Visitor</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI" >The Love of a Man</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII" >The Blowing of the Coyote</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">VIII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII" >The Hour of Death</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">IX.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX" >The Tryst</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">X.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>      <td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">A Race Into the North</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The House of the Red Death</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Fight</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XIII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Pursuit</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XIV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Gleam of the Light</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XV.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>     <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">In the Bedroom Chamber</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XVI.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>    <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Jean's Story</a></td>
+<tr><td align="right">XVII.&nbsp;&nbsp;</td>   <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">Meleese</a></td>
+
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h1>THE DANGER TRAIL</h1>
+<br>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE GIRL OF THE SNOWS</h3>
+
+<p>For perhaps the first time in his life Howland felt the spirit of
+romance, of adventure, of sympathy for the picturesque and the unknown
+surging through his veins. A billion stars glowed like yellow,
+passionless eyes in the polar cold of the skies. Behind him, white in
+its sinuous twisting through the snow-smothered wilderness, lay the icy
+Saskatchewan, with a few scattered lights visible where Prince Albert,
+the last outpost of civilization, came down to the river half a
+mile away.</p>
+
+<p>But it was into the North that Howland looked. From the top of the great
+ridge which he had climbed he gazed steadily into the white gloom which
+reached for a thousand miles from where he stood to the Arctic Sea.
+Faintly in the grim silence of the winter night there came to his ears
+the soft hissing sound of the aurora borealis as it played in its
+age-old song over the dome of the earth, and as he watched the cold
+flashes shooting like pale arrows through the distant sky and listened
+to its whispering music of unending loneliness and mystery, there came
+on him a strange feeling that it was beckoning to him and calling to
+him--telling him that up there very near to the end of the earth lay all
+that he had dreamed of and hoped for since he had grown old enough to
+begin the shaping of a destiny of his own.</p>
+
+<p>He shivered as the cold nipped at his blood, and lighted a fresh cigar,
+half-turning to shield himself from a wind that was growing out of the
+east. As the match flared in the cup of his hands for an instant there
+came from the black gloom of the balsam and spruce at his feet a
+wailing, hungerful cry that brought a startled breath from his lips. It
+was a cry such as Indian dogs make about the tepees of masters who are
+newly dead. He had never heard such a cry before, and yet he knew that
+it was a wolf's. It impressed him with an awe which was new to him and
+he stood as motionless as the trees about him until, from out the gray
+night-gloom to the west, there came an answering cry, and then, from far
+to the north, still another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sounds as though I'd better go back to town,&quot; he said to himself,
+speaking aloud. &quot;By George, but it's lonely!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He descended the ridge, walked rapidly over the hard crust of the snow
+across the Saskatchewan, and assured himself that he felt considerably
+easier when the lights of Prince Albert gleamed a few hundred yards
+ahead of him.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Howland was a Chicago man, which means that he was a hustler, and
+not overburdened with sentiment. For fifteen of his thirty-one years he
+had been hustling. Since he could easily remember, he had possessed to
+a large measure but one ambition and one hope. With a persistence which
+had left him peculiarly a stranger to the more frivolous and human sides
+of life he had worked toward the achievement of this ambition, and
+to-night, because that achievement was very near at hand, he was happy.
+He had never been happier. There flashed across his mental vision a
+swiftly moving picture of the fight he had made for success. It had been
+a magnificent fight. Without vanity he was proud of it, for fate had
+handicapped him at the beginning, and still he had won out. He saw
+himself again the homeless little farmer boy setting out from his
+Illinois village to take up life in a great city; as though it had all
+happened but yesterday he remembered how for days and weeks he had
+nearly starved, how he had sold papers at first, and then, by lucky
+chance, became errand boy in a big drafting establishment. It was there
+that the ambition was born in him. He saw great engineers come and
+go--men who were greater than presidents to him, and who sought out the
+ends of the earth in the following of their vocation. He made a slave of
+himself in the nurturing and strengthening of his ambition to become one
+of them--to be a builder of railroads and bridges, a tunneler of
+mountains, a creator of new things in new lands. His slavery had not
+lessened as his years increased. Voluntarily he had kept himself in
+bondage, fighting ceaselessly the obstacles in his way, triumphing over
+his handicaps as few other men had triumphed, rising, slowly, steadily,
+resistlessly, until now--. He flung back his head and the pulse of his
+heart quickened as he heard again the words of Van Horn, president of
+the greatest engineering company on the continent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland, we've decided to put you in charge Of the building of the
+Hudson Bay Railroad. It's one of the wildest jobs we've ever had, and
+Gregson and Thorne don't seem to catch on. They're bridge builders and
+not wilderness men. We've got to lay a single line of steel through
+three hundred miles of the wildest country in North America, and from
+this hour your motto is 'Do it or bust!' You can report at Le Pas as
+soon as you get your traps together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Those words had broken the slavedom for Howland. He had been fighting
+for an opportunity, and now that the opportunity had come he was sure
+that he would succeed. Swiftly, with his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets, he walked down the one main street of Prince Albert, puffing
+out odorous clouds of smoke from his cigar, every fiber in him tingling
+with the new joy that had come into his life. Another night would see
+him in Le Pas, the little outpost sixty miles farther east on the
+Saskatchewan. Then a hundred miles by dog-sledge and he would be in the
+big wilderness camp where three hundred men were already at work
+clearing a way to the great bay to the north. What a glorious
+achievement that road would be! It would remain for all time as a
+cenotaph to his ability, his courage and indomitable persistence.</p>
+
+<p>It was past nine o'clock when Howland entered the little old Windsor
+Hotel. The big room, through the windows of which he could look out on
+the street and across the frozen Saskatchewan, was almost empty. The
+clerk had locked his cigar-case and had gone to bed. In one corner,
+partly shrouded in gloom, sat a half-breed trapper who had come in that
+day from the Lac la Ronge country, and at his feet crouched one of his
+wolfish sledge-dogs. Both were wide-awake and stared curiously at
+Howland as he came in. In front of the two large windows sat half a
+dozen men, as silent as the half-breed, clad in moccasins and thick
+caribou skin coats. One of them was the factor from a Hudson Bay post at
+Lac Bain who had not been down to the edge of civilization for three
+years; the others, including two Crees and a Chippewayan, were hunters
+and Post men who had driven in their furs from a hundred miles to
+the north.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland paused in the middle of the room and looked about
+him. Ordinarily he would have liked this quiet, and would have gone to
+one of the two rude tables to write a letter or work out a problem of
+some sort, for he always carried a pocketful of problems about with him.
+His fifteen years of study and unceasing slavery to his ambition had
+made him naturally as taciturn as these grim men of the North, who were
+born to silence. But to-night there had come a change over him. He
+wanted to talk. He wanted to ask questions. He longed for human
+companionship, for some kind of mental exhilaration beyond that
+furnished by his own thoughts. Feeling in his pocket for a cigar he
+seated himself before one of the windows and proffered it to the factor
+from Lac Bain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You smoke?&quot; he asked companionably.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was born in a wigwam,&quot; said the factor slowly, taking the cigar.
+&quot;Thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Deuced polite for a man who hasn't seen civilization for three years,&quot;
+thought Howland, seating himself comfortably, with his feet on the
+window-sill. Aloud he said, &quot;The clerk tells me you are from Lac Bain.
+That's a good distance north, isn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Four hundred miles,&quot; replied the factor with quiet terseness. &quot;We're on
+the edge of the Barren Lands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Whew!&quot; Howland shrugged his shoulders. Then he volunteered, &quot;I'm going
+north myself to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Post man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; engineer. I'm putting through the Hudson Bay Railroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the words quite clearly and as they fell from his lips the
+half-breed, partly concealed in the gloom behind him, straightened with
+the alert quickness of a cat. He leaned forward eagerly, his black eyes
+gleaming, and then rose softly from his seat. His moccasined feet made
+no sound as he came up behind Howland. It was the big huskie who first
+gave a sign of his presence. For a moment the upturned eyes of the young
+engineer met those of the half-breed. That look gave Howland a glimpse
+of a face which he could never forget--a thin, dark, sensitive face
+framed in shining, jet-black hair, and a pair of eyes that were the most
+beautiful he had ever seen in a man. Sometimes a look decides great
+friendship or bitter hatred between men. And something, nameless,
+unaccountable, passed between these two. Not until the half-breed had
+turned and was walking swiftly away did Howland realize that he wanted
+to speak to him, to grip him by the hand, to know him by name. He
+watched the slender form of the Northerner, as lithe and as graceful in
+its movement as a wild thing of the forests, until it passed from the
+door out into the night.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who was that?&quot; he asked, turning to the factor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His name is Croisset. He comes from the Wholdaia country, beyond Lac la
+Ronge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;French?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half French, half Cree.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The factor resumed his steady gaze out into the white distance of the
+night, and Howland gave up his effort at conversation. After a little
+his companion shoved back his chair and bade him good night. The Crees
+and Chippewayan followed him, and a few minutes later the two white
+hunters left the engineer alone before the windows.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mighty funny people,&quot; he said half aloud. &quot;Wonder if they ever talk!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face resting in his hands, and
+stared to catch a sign of moving life outside. In him there was no
+desire for sleep. Often he had called himself a night-bird, but seldom
+had he been more wakeful than on this night. The elation of his triumph,
+of his success, had not yet worn itself down to a normal and reasoning
+satisfaction, and his chief longing was for the day, and the day after
+that, and the next day, when he would take the place of Gregson and
+Thorne. Every muscle in his body was vibrant in its desire for action.
+He looked at his watch. It was only ten o'clock. Since supper he had
+smoked almost ceaselessly. Now he lighted another cigar and stood up
+close to one of the windows.</p>
+
+<p>Faintly he caught the sound of a step on the board walk outside. It was
+a light, quick step, and for an instant it hesitated, just out of his
+vision. Then it approached, and suddenly the figure of a woman stopped
+in front of the window. How she was dressed Howland could not have told
+a moment later. All that he saw was the face, white in the white
+night--a face on which the shimmering starlight fell as it was lifted to
+his gaze, beautiful, as clear-cut as a cameo, with eyes that looked up
+at him half-pleadingly, half-luringly, and lips parted, as if about to
+speak to him. He stared, moveless in his astonishment, and in another
+breath the face was gone.</p>
+
+<p>With a hurried exclamation he ran across the empty room to the door and
+looked down the starlit street. To go from the window to the door took
+him but a few seconds, yet he found the street deserted--deserted except
+for a solitary figure three blocks away and a dog that growled at him
+as he thrust out his head and shoulders. He heard no sound of footsteps,
+no opening or closing of a door. Only there came to him that faint,
+hissing music of the northern skies, and once more, from the black
+forest beyond the Saskatchewan, the infinite sadness of the wolf-howl.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>LIPS THAT SPEAK NOT</h3>
+
+<p>Howland was not a man easily susceptible to a pair of eyes and a pretty
+face. The practical side of his nature was too much absorbed in its
+devices and schemes for the building of material things to allow the
+breaking in of romance. At least Howland had always complimented himself
+on this fact, and he laughed a little nervously as he went back to his
+seat near the window. He was conscious that a flush of unusual
+excitement had leaped into his cheeks and already the practical side of
+him was ashamed of that to which the romantic side had surrendered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce, but she was pretty!&quot; he excused himself. &quot;And those eyes--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he checked himself. There had been more than the eyes; more
+than the pretty face! Why had the girl paused in front of the window?
+Why had she looked at him so intently, as though on the point of speech?
+The smile and the flush left his face as these questions came to him and
+he wondered if he had failed to comprehend something which she had meant
+him to understand. After all, might it not have been a case of mistaken
+identity? For a moment she had believed that she recognized him--then,
+seeing her mistake, had passed swiftly down the street. Under ordinary
+circumstances Howland would have accepted this solution of the incident.
+But to-night he was in an unusual mood, and it quickly occurred to him
+that even if his supposition were true it did not explain the pallor in
+the girl's face and the strange entreaty which had glowed for an instant
+in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Anyway it was none of his business, and he walked casually to the door.
+At the end of the street, a quarter of a mile distant, a red light
+burned feebly over the front of a Chinese restaurant, and in a
+mechanical fashion his footsteps led him in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll drop in and have a cup of tea,&quot; he assured himself, throwing away
+the stub of his cigar and filling his lungs with great breaths of the
+cold, dry air. &quot;Lord, but it's a glorious night! I wish Van Horn
+could see it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped and turned his eyes again into the North. Its myriad stars,
+white and unshivering, the elusive play of the mysterious lights
+hovering over the pole, and the black edge of the wilderness beyond the
+river were holding a greater and greater fascination for him. Since
+morning, when he had looked on that wilderness for the first time in his
+life, new blood had entered into him, and he rejoiced that it was this
+wonderful world which was to hold for him success and fortune. Never had
+he dreamed that the mere joy of living would appeal to him as it did
+now; that the act of breathing, of seeing, of looking on wonders in
+which his hands had taken no part in the making, would fill him with the
+indefinable pleasure which had suddenly become his experience. He
+wondered, as he still stood gazing into the infinity of that other
+world beyond the Saskatchewan, if romance was really quite dead in him.
+Always he had laughed at romance. Work--the grim reality of action, of
+brain fighting brain, of cleverness pitted against other men's
+cleverness--had almost brought him to the point of regarding romance in
+life as a peculiar illusion of fools--and women. But he was fair in his
+concessions, and to-night he acknowledged that he had enjoyed the
+romance of what he had seen and heard. And most of all, his blood had
+been stirred by the beautiful face that had looked at him from out of
+the night.</p>
+
+<p>The tuneless thrumming of a piano sounded behind him. As he passed
+through the low door of the restaurant a man and woman lurched past him
+and in their irresolute faces and leering stare he read the verification
+of his suspicions of the place. Through a second door he entered a large
+room filled with tables and chairs, and pregnant with strange odors. At
+one of the farther tables sat a long-queued Chinaman with his head
+bowed in his arms. Behind a counter stood a second, as motionless as an
+obelisk in the half gloom of the dimly illuminated room, his evil face
+challenging Howland as he entered. The sound of a piano came from above
+and with a bold and friendly nod the young engineer mounted a pair
+of stairs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tough joint,&quot; he muttered, falling into his old habit of communing with
+himself. &quot;Hope they make good tea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of his footsteps on the stair the playing of the piano
+ceased. He was surprised at what greeted him above. In startling
+contrast to the loathsome environment below he entered a luxuriously
+appointed room, heavily hung with oriental tapestries, and with half a
+dozen onyx tables partially concealed behind screens and gorgeously
+embroidered silk curtains. At one of these he seated himself and
+signaled for service with the tiny bell near his hand. In response there
+appeared a young Chinaman with close-cropped hair and attired in
+evening dress.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A pot of tea,&quot; ordered Howland; and under his breath he added, &quot;Pretty
+deuced good for a wilderness town! I wonder--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked about him curiously. Although it was only eleven o'clock the
+place appeared to be empty. Yet Howland was reasonably assured that it
+was not empty. He was conscious of sensing in a vague sort of way the
+presence of others somewhere near him. He was sure that there was a
+faint, acrid odor lurking above that of burned incense, and he shrugged
+his shoulders with conviction when he paid a dollar for his pot of tea.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Opium, as sure as your name is Jack Howland,&quot; he said, when the waiter
+was gone. &quot;I wonder again--how many pots of tea do they sell in
+a night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He sipped his own leisurely, listening with all the eagerness of the new
+sense of freedom which had taken possession of him. The Chinaman had
+scarcely disappeared when he heard footsteps on the stair. In another
+instant a low word of surprise almost leaped from his lips. Hesitating
+for a moment in the doorway, her face staring straight into his own,
+was the girl whom he had seen through the hotel window!</p>
+
+<p>For perhaps no more than five seconds their eyes met. Yet in that time
+there was painted on his memory a picture that Howland knew he would
+never forget. His was a nature, because of the ambition imposed on it,
+that had never taken more than a casual interest in the form and feature
+of women. He had looked on beautiful faces and had admired them in a
+cool, dispassionate way, judging them--when he judged at all--as he
+might have judged the more material workmanship of his own hands. But
+this face that was framed for a few brief moments in the door reached
+out to him and stirred an interest within him which was as new as it was
+pleasurable. It was a beautiful face. He knew that in a fraction of the
+first second. It was not white, as he had first seen it through the
+window. The girl's cheeks were flushed. Her lips were parted, and she
+was breathing quickly, as though from the effect of climbing the stair.
+But it was her eyes that sent Howland's blood a little faster through
+his veins. They were glorious eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The girl turned from his gaze and seated herself at a table so that he
+caught only her profile. The change delighted him. It afforded him
+another view of the picture that had appeared to him in the doorway, and
+he could study it without being observed in the act, though he was
+confident that the girl knew his eyes were on her. He refilled his tiny
+cup with tea and smiled when he noticed that she could easily have
+seated herself behind one of the screens. From the flush in her cheeks
+his eyes traveled critically to the rich glow of the light in her
+shining brown hair, which swept half over her ears in thick, soft waves,
+caught in a heavy coil low on her neck. Then, for the first time, he
+noticed her dress. It puzzled him. Her turban and muff were of deep gray
+lynx fur. Around her shoulders was a collarette of the same material.
+Her hands were immaculately gloved. In every feature of her lovely face,
+in every point of her dress, she bore the indisputable mark of
+refinement. The quizzical smile left his lips. The thoughts which at
+first had filled his mind as quickly disappeared. Who was she? Why
+was she here?</p>
+
+<p>With cat-like quietness the young Chinaman entered between the screens
+and stood beside her. On a small tablet which Howland had not before
+observed she wrote her order. It was for tea. He noticed that she gave
+the waiter a dollar bill in payment and that the Chinaman returned
+seventy-five cents to her in change.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Discrimination,&quot; he chuckled to himself. &quot;Proof that she's not a
+stranger here, and knows the price of things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He poured his last half cup of tea and when he lifted his eyes he was
+surprised to find that the girl was looking at him. For a brief interval
+her gaze was steady and clear; then the flush deepened in her cheeks;
+her long lashes drooped as the cold gray of Howland's eyes met hers in
+unflinching challenge, and she turned to her tea. Howland noted that the
+hand which lifted the little Japanese pot was trembling slightly. He
+leaned forward, and as if impelled by the movement, the girl turned her
+face to him again, the tea-urn poised above her cup. In her dark eyes
+was an expression which half brought him to his feet, a wistful glow, a
+pathetic and yet half-frightened appeal to him. He rose, his eyes
+questioning her, and to his unspoken inquiry her lips formed themselves
+into a round, red O, and she nodded to the opposite side of her table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; he said, seating himself. &quot;May I give you my card?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He felt as if there was something brutally indecent in what he was doing
+and the knowledge of it sent a red flush to his cheeks. The girl read
+his name, smiled across the table at him, and with a pretty gesture,
+motioned him to bring his cup and share her tea with her. He returned to
+his table and when he came back with the cup in his hand she was writing
+on one of the pages of the tablet, which she passed across to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must pardon me for not talking,&quot; he read. &quot;I can hear you very
+well, but I, unfortunately, am a mute.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could not repress the low ejaculation of astonishment that came to
+his lips, and as his companion lifted her cup he saw in her face again
+the look that had stirred him so strangely when he stood in the window
+of the Hotel Windsor. Howland was not a man educated in the trivialities
+of chance flirtations. He lacked finesse, and now he spoke boldly and to
+the point, the honest candor of his gray eyes shining full on the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw you from the hotel window to-night,&quot; he began, &quot;and something in
+your face led me to believe that you were in trouble. That is why I have
+ventured to be so bold. I am the engineer in charge of the new Hudson
+Bay Railroad, just on my way to Le Pas from Chicago. I'm a stranger in
+town. I've never been in this--this place before. It's a very nice
+tea-room, an admirable blind for the opium stalls behind those walls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In a few terse words he had covered the situation, as he would have
+covered a similar situation in a business deal. He had told the girl
+who and what he was, had revealed the cause of his interest in her, and
+at the same time had given her to understand that he was aware of the
+nature of their present environment. Closely he watched the effect of
+his words and in another breath was sorry that he had been so blunt. The
+girl's eyes traveled swiftly about her; he saw the quick rise and fall
+of her bosom, the swift fading of the color in her cheeks, the
+affrighted glow in her eyes as they came back big and questioning
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I didn't know,&quot; she wrote quickly, and hesitated. Her face was as white
+now as when Howland had looked on it through the window. Her hand
+trembled nervously and for an instant her lip quivered in a way that set
+Howland's heart pounding tumultuously within him. &quot;I am a stranger,
+too,&quot; she added. &quot;I have never been in this place before. I came
+because--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She stopped, and the catching breath in her throat was almost a sob as
+she looked at Howland. He knew that it took an effort for her to write
+the next words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I came because you came.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot; he asked. His voice was low and assuring. &quot;Tell me--why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He read her words as she wrote them, leaning half across the table in
+his eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am a stranger,&quot; she repeated. &quot;I want some one to help me.
+Accidentally I learned who you were and made up my mind to see you at
+the hotel, but when I got there I was afraid to go in. Then I saw you in
+the window. After a little you came out and I saw you enter here. I
+didn't know what kind of place it was and I followed you. Won't you
+please go with me--to where I am staying--and I will tell you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She left the sentence unfinished, her eyes pleading with him. Without a
+word he rose and seized his hat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go, Miss--&quot; He laughed frankly into her face, inviting her to
+write her name. For a moment she smiled back at him, the color
+brightening her cheeks. Then she turned and hurried down the stair.</p>
+
+<p>Outside Howland gave her his arm. His eyes, passing above her, caught
+again the luring play of the aurora in the north. He flung back his
+shoulders, drank in the fresh air, and laughed in the buoyancy of the
+new life that he felt.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a glorious night!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>The girl nodded, and smiled up at him. Her face was very near to his
+shoulder, ever more beautiful in the white light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>They did not look behind them. Neither heard the quiet fall of
+moccasined feet a dozen yards away. Neither saw the gleaming eyes and
+the thin, dark face of Jean Croisset, the half-breed, as they walked
+swiftly in the direction of the Saskatchewan.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE MYSTERIOUS ATTACK</h3>
+
+<p>Howland was glad that for a time there was an excuse for his silence. It
+began to dawn on him that this was an extraordinary adventure for a man
+on whose shoulders rested the responsibilities of one of the greatest
+engineering tasks on the continent, and who was due to take a train for
+the seat of his operations at eight o'clock in the morning. Inwardly he
+was experiencing some strange emotions; outwardly he smiled as he
+thought of what Van Horn would say if he knew the circumstances. He
+looked down at his companion; saw the sheen of her hair as it rippled
+out from under her fur turban, studied the soft contour of her cheek and
+chin, without himself being observed, and noticed, incidentally, that
+the top of the bewitching head beside him came just about to a level
+with his cigar which he was smoking. He wondered if he were making a
+fool of himself. If so, he assured himself that there was at least one
+compensation. This night in Prince Albert would not be so uninteresting
+as it had promised to be earlier in the evening.</p>
+
+<p>Where the river ferry was half drawn up on the shore, its stern frozen
+in the ice, he paused and looked down at the girl in quiet surprise. She
+nodded, smiling, and motioned across the river.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was over there once to-night,&quot; said Howland aloud. &quot;Didn't see any
+houses and heard nothing but wolves. Is that where we're going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her white teeth gleamed at him and he was conscious of a warm pressure
+against his arm as the girl signified that they were to cross. His
+perplexity increased. On the farther shore the forest came down to the
+river's edge in a black wall of spruce and balsam. Beyond that edge of
+the wilderness he knew that no part of Prince Albert intruded. It was
+possible that across from them was a squatter's cabin; and yet if this
+were so, and the girl was going to it, why had she told him that she was
+a stranger in the town? And why had she come to him for the assistance
+she promised to request of him instead of seeking it of those whom
+she knew?</p>
+
+<p>He asked himself these questions without putting them in words, and not
+until they were climbing up the frozen bank of the stream, with the
+shadows of the forest growing deeper about them, did he speak again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You told me you were a stranger,&quot; he said, stopping his companion where
+the light of the stars fell on the face which she turned up to him. She
+smiled, and nodded affirmatively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You seem pretty well acquainted over here,&quot; he persisted. &quot;Where are we
+going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time she responded with an emphatic negative shake of her head, at
+the same time pointing with her free hand to the well-defined trail that
+wound up from the ferry landing into the forest. Earlier in the day
+Howland had been told that this was the Great North Trail that led into
+the vast wildernesses beyond the Saskatchewan. Two days before, the
+factor from Lac Bain, the Chippewayan and the Crees had come in over it.
+Its hard crust bore the marks of the sledges of Jean Croisset and the
+men from the Lac la Ronge country. Since the big snow, which had fallen
+four feet deep ten days before, a forest man had now and then used this
+trail on his way down to the edge of civilization; but none from Prince
+Albert had traveled it in the other direction. Howland had been told
+this at the hotel, and he shrugged his shoulders in candid bewilderment
+as he stared down into the girl's face. She seemed to understand his
+thoughts, and again her mouth rounded itself into that bewitching red O,
+which gave to her face an expression of tender entreaty, of pathetic
+grief that the soft lips were powerless to voice, the words which she
+wished to speak. Then, suddenly, she darted a few steps from Howland and
+with the toe of her shoe formed a single word in the surface of the
+snow. She rested her hand lightly on Howland's shoulder as he bent over
+to make it out in the elusive starlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Camp!&quot; he cried, straightening himself. &quot;Do you mean to say you're
+camping out here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She nodded again and again, delighted that he understood her. There was
+something so childishly sweet in her face, in the gladness of her eyes,
+that Howland stretched out both his hands to her, laughing aloud. &quot;You!&quot;
+he exclaimed. &quot;<i>You</i>--camping out here!&quot; With a quick little movement
+she came to him, still laughing with her eyes and lips, and for an
+instant he held both her hands tight in his own. Her lovely face was
+dangerously near to him. He felt the touch of her breath on his face,
+for an instant caught the sweet scent of her hair. Never had he seen
+eyes like those that glowed up at him softly, filled with the gentle
+starlight; never in his life had he dreamed of a face like this, so near
+to him that it sent the blood leaping through his veins in strange
+excitement. He held the hands tighter, and the movement drew the girl
+closer to him, until for no more than a breath he felt her against his
+breast. In that moment he forgot all sense of time and place; forgot his
+old self--Jack Howland--practical, unromantic, master-builder of
+railroads; forgot everything but this presence of the girl, the warm
+pressure against his breast, the lure of the great brown eyes that had
+come so unexpectedly into his life. In another moment he had recovered
+himself. He drew a step back, freeing the girl's hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I beg your pardon,&quot; he said softly. His cheeks burned hotly at what he
+had done, and turning squarely about he strode up the trail. He had not
+taken a dozen paces, when far ahead of him he saw the red glow of a
+fire. Then a hand caught his arm, clutching at it almost fiercely, and
+he turned to meet the girl's face, white now with a strange terror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; he cried. &quot;Tell me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught her hands again, startled by the look in her eyes. Quickly she
+pulled herself away. A dozen feet behind her, in the thick shadows of
+the forest trees, something took shape and movement. In a flash Howland
+saw a huge form leap from the gloom and caught the gleam of an uplifted
+knife. There was no time for him to leap aside, no time for him to reach
+for the revolver which he carried in his pocket. In such a crisis one's
+actions are involuntary, machine-like, as if life, hovering by a thread,
+preserves itself in its own manner and without thought or reasoning on
+the part of the creature it animates.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Howland neither thought nor reasoned. Had he done so he
+would probably have met his mysterious assailant, pitting his naked
+fists against the knife. But the very mainspring of his existence--which
+is self-preservation--called on him to do otherwise. Before the startled
+cry on his lips found utterance he flung himself face downward in the
+snow. The move saved him, and as the other stumbled over his body,
+pitching headlong into the trail, he snatched forth his revolver. Before
+he could fire there came a roar like that of a beast from behind him
+and a terrific blow fell on his head. Under the weight of a second
+assailant he was crushed to the snow, his pistol slipped from his grasp,
+and two great hands choked a despairing cry from his throat. He saw a
+face over him, distorted with passion, a huge neck, eyes that named like
+angry garnets. He struggled to free his pinioned arms, to wrench off the
+death-grip at his throat, but his efforts were like those of a child
+against a giant. In a last terrible attempt he drew up his knees inch by
+inch under the weight of his enemy; it was his only chance, his only
+hope. Even as he felt the fingers about his throat, sinking like hot
+iron into his flesh, and the breath slipping from his body, he
+remembered this murderous knee-punch taught to him by the rough fighters
+of the Inland Seas, and with all the life that remained in him he sent
+it crushing into the other's abdomen. It was a moment before he knew
+that it had been successful, before the film cleared from his eyes and
+he saw his assailant groveling in the snow. He rose to his feet, dazed
+and staggering from the effect of the blow on his head and the murderous
+grip at his throat. Half a pistol shot down the trail he saw
+indistinctly the twisting of black objects in the snow, and as he stared
+one of the objects came toward him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not fire, M'seur Howland,&quot; he heard a voice call. &quot;It ees I--Jean
+Croisset, a friend! Blessed Saints, that was--what you call heem?--close
+heem?--close call?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The half-breed's thin dark face came up smiling out of the white gloom.
+For a moment Howland did not see him, scarcely heard his words. Wildly
+he looked about him for the girl. She was gone.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I happened here--just in time--with a club,&quot; continued Croisset. &quot;Come,
+we must go.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The smile had gone from his face and there was a commanding firmness in
+the grip that fell on the young engineer's arm. Howland was conscious
+that things were twisting about him and that there was a strange
+weakness in his limbs. Dumbly he raised his hands to his head, which
+hurt him until he felt as if he must cry out in his pain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The girl--&quot; he gasped weakly.</p>
+
+<p>Croisset's arm tightened about his waist.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She ees gone!&quot; Howland heard him say; and there was something in the
+half-breed's low voice that caused him to turn unquestioningly and
+stagger along beside him in the direction of Prince Albert.</p>
+
+<p>And yet as he went, only half-conscious of what he was doing, and
+leaning more and more heavily on his companion, he knew that it was more
+than the girl's disappearance that he wanted to understand. For as the
+blow had fallen on his head he was sure that he had heard a woman's
+scream; and as he lay in the snow, dazed and choking, spending his last
+effort in his struggle for life, there had come to him, as if from an
+infinite distance, a woman's voice, and the words that it had uttered
+pounded in his tortured brain now as his head dropped weakly against
+Croisset's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He tried to repeat them aloud, but his voice sounded only in an
+incoherent murmur. Where the forest came down to the edge of the river
+the half-breed stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must carry you, M'seur Howland,&quot; he said; and as he staggered out on
+the ice with his inanimate burden, he spoke softly to himself, &quot;The
+saints preserve me, but what would the sweet Meleese say if she knew
+that Jean Croisset had come so near to losing the life of this M'seur le
+engineer? <i>Ce monde est plein de fous!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE WARNING</h3>
+
+<p>In only a subconscious sort of way was Howland cognizant of anything
+more that happened that night. When he came back into a full sense of
+his existence he found himself in his bed at the hotel. A lamp was
+burning low on the table. A glance showed him that the room was empty.
+He raised his head and shoulders from the pillows on which they were
+resting and the movement helped to bring him at once into a realization
+of what had happened. He was hurt. There was a dull, aching pain in his
+head and neck and when he raised an inquiring hand it came in contact
+with a thick bandage. He wondered if he were badly hurt and sank back
+again on the pillows, lying with his eyes staring at the faint glow of
+the lamp. Soon there came a sound at the door and he twisted his head,
+grimacing with the pain it caused him. Jean was looking in at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, M'seur ees awake!&quot; he said, seeing the wide-open eyes. He came in
+softly, closing the door behind him. &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but if it had been a
+heavier club by the weight of a pound you would have gone into the
+blessed hereafter,&quot; he smiled, approaching with noiseless tread. He held
+a glass of water to Howland's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it bad, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So bad that you will be in bed for a day or so, M'seur. That is all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Impossible!&quot; cried the young engineer. &quot;I must take the eight o'clock
+train in the morning. I must be in Le Pas--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is five o'clock now,&quot; interrupted Jean softly. &quot;Do you feel like
+going?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland straightened himself and fell back suddenly with a sharp cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; he exclaimed. After a moment he added, &quot;There will be no
+other train for two days.&quot; As he raised a hand to his aching head, his
+other closed tightly about Jean's lithe brown fingers. &quot;I want to thank
+you for what you did, Croisset. I don't know what happened. I don't know
+who they were or why they tried to kill me. There was a girl--I was
+going with her--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped his hand in time to see the strange fire that had leaped into
+the half-breed's eyes. In astonishment he half lifted himself again, his
+white face questioning Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know?&quot; he whispered eagerly. &quot;Who was she? Why did she lead me
+into that ambush? Why did they attempt to kill me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The questions shot from him excitedly, and he knew from what he saw in
+the other's face that Croisset could have answered them. Yet from the
+thin tense lips above him there came no response. With a quick movement
+the half-breed drew away his hand and moved toward the door. Half way he
+paused and turned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I have come to you with a warning. Do not go to Le Pas. Do not
+go to the big railroad camp on the Wekusko. Return into the South.&quot; For
+an instant he leaned forward, his black eyes flashing, his hands
+clenched tightly at his sides. &quot;Perhaps you will understand,&quot; he cried
+tensely, &quot;when I tell you this warning is sent to you--by the
+little Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before Howland could recover from his surprise Croisset had passed
+swiftly through the door. The engineer called his name, but there came
+no response other than the rapidly retreating sound of the Northerner's
+moccasined feet. With a grumble of vexation he sank back on his pillows.
+The fresh excitement had set his head in a whirl again and a feverish
+heat mounted into his face. For a long time he lay with his eyes closed,
+trying to clear for himself the mystery of the preceding night. The one
+thought which obsessed him was that he had been duped. His lovely
+acquaintance of the preceding evening had ensnared him completely with
+her gentle smile and her winsome mouth, and he gritted his teeth grimly
+as he reflected how easy he had been. Deliberately she had lured him
+into the ambush which would have proved fatal for him had it not been
+for Jean Croisset. And she was not a mute! He had heard her voice; when
+that death-grip was tightest about his throat there had come to him that
+terrified cry: &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His breath came a little faster as he whispered the words to himself.
+They appealed to him now with a significance which he had not understood
+at first. He was sure that in that cry there had been real terror;
+almost, he fancied, as he lay with his eyes shut tight, that he could
+still hear the shrill note of despair in the voice. The more he tried to
+reason the situation, the more inexplicable grew the mystery of it all.
+If the girl had calmly led him into the ambush, why, in the last moment,
+when success seemed about to crown her duplicity, had she cried out in
+that agony of terror? In Howland's heated brain there came suddenly a
+vision of her as she stood beside him in the white trail; he felt again
+the thrill of her hands, the touch of her breast for a moment against
+his own; saw the gentle look that had come into her deep, pure eyes; the
+pathetic tremor of the lips which seemed bravely striving to speak to
+him. Was it possible that face and eyes like those could have led him
+into a deathtrap! Despite the evidence of what had happened he found
+himself filled with doubt. And yet, after all, she had lied to him--for
+she was not a mute!</p>
+
+<p>He turned over with a groan and watched the door. When Croisset returned
+he would insist on knowing more about the strange occurrence, for he was
+sure that the half-breed could clear away at least a part of the
+mystery. Vainly, as he watched and waited, he racked his mind to find
+some reason for the murderous attack on himself. Who was &quot;the little
+Meleese,&quot; whom Croisset declared had sent the warning? So far as he
+could remember he had never known a person by that name. And yet the
+half-breed had uttered it as though it would carry a vital meaning to
+him. &quot;Perhaps you will understand,&quot; he had said, and Howland strove to
+understand, until his brain grew dizzy and a nauseous sickness
+overcame him.</p>
+
+<p>The first light of the day was falling faintly through the window when
+footsteps sounded outside the door again. It was not Croisset who
+appeared this time, but the proprietor himself, bearing with him a tray
+on which there was toast and a steaming pot of coffee. He nodded and
+smiled as he saw Howland half sitting up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad fall you had,&quot; he greeted, drawing a small table close beside the
+bed. &quot;This snow is treacherous when you're climbing among the rocks.
+When it caves in with you on the side of a mountain you might as well
+make up your mind you're going to get a good bump. Good thing Croisset
+was with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments Howland was speechless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--it--was--a--bad--fall,&quot; he replied at last, looking sharply at the
+other. &quot;Where is Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gone. He left an hour ago with his dogs. Funny fellow--that Croisset!
+Came in yesterday from the Lac la Ronge country a hundred miles north;
+goes back to-day. No apparent reason for his coming, none for his going,
+that I can see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know anything about him?&quot; asked Howland a little eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No. He comes in about once or twice a year.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The young engineer munched his toast and drank his coffee for some
+moments in silence. Then, casually, he asked,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese--Meleese--Meleese--&quot; repeated the hotel man, running a hand
+through his hair. &quot;It seems to me that the name is familiar--and yet I
+can't remember--&quot; He caught himself in sudden triumph. &quot;Ah, I have it!
+Two years ago I had a kitchen woman named Meleese.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This was a young woman,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Meleese we had is dead,&quot; replied the proprietor cheerfully, rising
+to go. &quot;I'll send up for your tray in half an hour or so, Mr. Howland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Several hours later Howland crawled from his bed and bathed his head in
+cold water. After that he felt better, dressed himself, and went below.
+His head pained him considerably, but beyond that and an occasional
+nauseous sensation the injury he had received in the fight caused him no
+very great distress. He went in to dinner and by the middle of the
+afternoon was so much improved that he lighted his first cigar and
+ventured out into the bracing air for a short walk. At first it occurred
+to him that he might make inquiries at the Chinese restaurant regarding
+the identity of the girl whom he had met there, but he quickly changed
+his mind, and crossing the river he followed the trail which they had
+taken the preceding night. For a few moments he contemplated the marks
+of the conflict in the snow. Where he had first seen the half-breed
+there were blotches of blood on the crust.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good for Croisset!&quot; Howland muttered; &quot;good for Croisset. It looks as
+though he used a knife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He could see where the wounded man had dragged himself up the trail,
+finally staggering to his feet, and with a caution which he had not
+exercised a few hours before Howland continued slowly between the thick
+forest walls, one hand clutching the butt of the revolver in his coat
+pocket. Where the trail twisted abruptly into the north he found the
+charred remains of a camp-fire in a small open, and just beyond it a
+number of birch toggles, which had undoubtedly been used in place of
+tent-stakes. With the toe of his boot he kicked among the ashes and
+half-burned bits of wood. There was no sign of smoke, not a living spark
+to give evidence that human presence had been there for many hours.
+There was but one conclusion to make; soon after their unsuccessful
+attempt on his life his strange assailants had broken camp and fled.
+With them, in all probability, had gone the girl whose soft eyes and
+sweet face had lured him within their reach.</p>
+
+<p>But where had they gone?</p>
+
+<p>Carefully he examined the abandoned camp. In the hard crust were the
+imprints of dogs' claws. In several places he found the faint, broad
+impression made by a toboggan. The marks at least cleared away the
+mystery of their disappearance. Sometime during the night they had fled
+by dog-sledge into the North.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired when he returned to the hotel and it was rather with a
+sense of disappointment than pleasure that he learned the work-train was
+to leave for Le Pas late that night instead of the next day. After a
+quiet hour's rest in his room, however, his old enthusiasm returned to
+him. He found himself feverishly anxious to reach Le Pas and the big
+camp on the Wekusko. Croisset's warning for him to turn back into the
+South, instead of deterring him, urged him on. He was born a fighter. It
+was by fighting that he had forced his way round by round up the ladder
+of success. And now the fact that his life was in danger, that some
+mysterious peril awaited him in the depths of the wilderness, but added
+a new and thrilling fascination to the tremendous task which was ahead
+of him. He wondered if this same peril had beset Gregson and Thorne, and
+if it was the cause of their failure, of their anxiety to return to
+civilization. He assured himself that he would know when he met them at
+Le Pas. He would discover more when he became a part of the camp on the
+Wekusko; that is, if the half-breed's warning held any significance at
+all, and he believed that it did. Anyway, he would prepare for
+developments. So he went to a gun-shop, bought a long-barreled
+six-shooter and a holster, and added to it a hunting-knife like that he
+had seen carried by Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>It was near midnight when he boarded the work-train and dawn was just
+beginning to break over the wilderness when it stopped at Etomami, from
+which point he was to travel by hand-car over the sixty miles of new
+road that had been constructed as far north as Le Pas. For three days
+the car had been waiting for the new chief of the road, but neither
+Gregson nor Thorne was with it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Gregson is waiting for you at Le Pas,&quot; said one of the men who had
+come with it. &quot;Thorne is at Wekusko.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in his life Howland now plunged into the heart of the
+wilderness, and as mile after mile slipped behind them and he sped
+deeper into the peopleless desolation of ice and snow and forest his
+blood leaped in swift excitement, in the new joy of life which he was
+finding up here under the far northern skies. Seated on the front of the
+car, with the four men pumping behind him, he drank in the wild beauties
+of the forests and swamps through which they slipped, his eyes
+constantly on the alert for signs of the big game which his companions
+told him was on all sides of them.</p>
+
+<p>Everywhere about them lay white winter. The rocks, the trees, and the
+great ridges, which in this north country are called mountains, were
+covered with four feet of snow and on it the sun shone with dazzling
+brilliancy. But it was not until a long grade brought them to the top of
+one of these ridges and Howland looked into the north that he saw the
+wilderness in all of its grandeur. As the car stopped he sprang to his
+feet with a joyous cry, his face aflame with what he saw ahead of him.
+Stretching away under his eyes, mile after mile, was the vast white
+desolation that reached to Hudson Bay. In speechless wonder he gazed
+down on the unblazed forests, saw plains and hills unfold themselves as
+his vision gained distance, followed a frozen river until it was lost in
+the bewildering picture, and let his eyes rest here and there on the
+glistening, snow-smothered bosoms of lakes, rimmed in by walls of black
+forest. This was not the wilderness as he had expected it to be, nor as
+he had often read of it in books. It was not the wilderness that Gregson
+and Thorne had described in their letters. It was beautiful! It was
+magnificent! His heart throbbed with pleasure as he gazed down on it,
+the flush grew deeper in his face, and he seemed hardly to breathe in
+his tense interest.</p>
+
+<p>One of the four on the car was an old Indian and it was he, strangely
+enough, who broke the silence. He had seen the look in Howland's face,
+and he spoke softly, close to his ear, &quot;Twent' t'ousand moose down
+there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No man--no house--more twent'
+t'ousand miles!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland, even quivering in his new emotion, looked into the old
+warrior's eyes, filled with the curious, thrilling gleam of the spirit
+which was stirring within himself. Then again he stared straight out
+into the unending distance as though his vision would penetrate far
+beyond the last of that visible desolation--on and on, even to the grim
+and uttermost fastnesses of Hudson Bay; and as he looked he knew that in
+these moments there had been born in him a new spirit, a new being; that
+no longer was he the old Jack Howland whose world had been confined by
+office walls and into whose conception of life there had seldom entered
+things other than those which led directly toward the achievement of his
+ambitions.</p>
+
+<p>The short northern day was nearing an end when once more they saw the
+broad Saskatchewan twisting through a plain below them, and on its
+southern shore the few log buildings of Le Pas hemmed in on three sides
+by the black forests of balsam and spruce. Lights were burning in the
+cabins and in the Hudson Bay Post's store when the car was brought to a
+halt half a hundred paces from a squat, log-built structure, which was
+more brilliantly illuminated than any of the others.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's the hotel,&quot; said one of the men. &quot;Gregson's there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A tall, fur-clad figure hurried forth to meet Howland as he walked
+briskly across the open. It was Gregson. As the two men gripped hands
+the young engineer stared at the other in astonishment. This was not
+the Gregson he had known in the Chicago office, round-faced, full of
+life, as active as a cricket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never so glad to see any one in my life, Howland!&quot; he cried, shaking
+the other's hand again and again. &quot;Another month and I'd be dead. Isn't
+this a hell of a country?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm falling more in love with it at every breath, Gregson. What's the
+matter? Have you been sick?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gregson laughed as they turned toward the lighted building. It was a
+short, nervous laugh, and with it he gave a curious sidewise glance at
+his companion's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sick?--yes, sick of the job! If the old man hadn't sent us relief
+Thorne and I would have thrown up the whole thing in another four weeks.
+I'll warrant you'll get your everlasting fill of log shanties and
+half-breeds and moose meat and this infernal snow and ice before spring
+comes. But I don't want to discourage you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can't discourage me!&quot; laughed Howland cheerfully. &quot;You know I never
+cared much for theaters and girls,&quot; he added slyly, giving Gregson a
+good-natured nudge. &quot;How about 'em up here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--not a cursed thing.&quot; Suddenly his eyes lighted up. &quot;By George,
+Howland, but I <i>did</i> see the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on
+to-day! I'd give a box of pure Havanas--and we haven't had one for a
+month!--if I could know who she is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They had entered through the low door of the log boarding-house and
+Gregson was throwing off his heavy coat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A tall girl, with a fur hat and muff?&quot; queried Howland eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing of the sort. She was a typical Northerner if there ever was
+one--straight as a birch, dressed in fur cap and coat, short caribou
+skin skirt and moccasins, and with a braid hanging down her back as long
+as my arm. Lord, but she was pretty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Isn't there a girl somewhere up around our camp named Meleese?&quot; asked
+Howland casually.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never heard of her,&quot; said Gregson.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or a man named Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never heard of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce, but you're interesting,&quot; laughed the young engineer,
+sniffing at the odors of cooking supper. &quot;I'm as hungry as a bear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From outside there came the sharp cracking of a sledge-driver's whip and
+Gregson went to one of the small windows looking out upon the clearing.
+In another instant he sprang toward the door, crying out to Howland,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By the god of love, there she is, old man! Quick, if you want to get a
+glimpse of her!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He flung the door open and Howland hurried to his side. There came
+another crack of the whip, a loud shout, and a sledge drawn by six dogs
+sped past them into the gathering gloom of the early night.</p>
+
+<p>From Howland's lips, too, there fell a sudden cry; for one of the two
+faces that were turned toward him for an instant was that of Croisset,
+and the other--white and staring as he had seen it that first night in
+Prince Albert--was the face of the beautiful girl who had lured him into
+the ambush on the Great North Trail!</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>HOWLAND'S MIDNIGHT VISITOR</h3>
+
+<p>For a moment after the swift passing of the sledge it was on Howland's
+lips to shout Croisset's name; as he thrust Gregson aside and leaped out
+into the night he was impelled with a desire to give chase, to overtake
+in some way the two people who, within the space of forty-eight hours,
+had become so mysteriously associated with his own life, and who were
+now escaping him again.</p>
+
+<p>It was Gregson who recalled him to his senses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought you didn't care for theaters--<i>and girls</i>, Howland,&quot; he
+exclaimed banteringly, repeating Howland's words of a few minutes
+before. &quot;A pretty face affects you a little differently up here, eh?
+Well, after you've been in this fag-end of the universe for a month or
+so you'll learn--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland interrupted him sharply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did you ever see either of them before, Gregson?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never until to-day. But there's hope, old man. Surely we can find some
+one in the place who knows them. Wouldn't it be jolly good fun if Jack
+Howland, Esquire, who has never been interested in theaters and girls,
+should come up into these God-forsaken regions and develop a case of
+love at first sight? By the Great North Trail, I tell you it may not be
+as uninteresting for you as it has been for Thorne and me! If I had only
+seen her sooner--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shut up!&quot; growled Howland, betraying irritability for the first time.
+&quot;Let's go in to supper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good. And I move that we investigate these people while we are smoking
+our after-supper cigars. It will pass our time away, at least.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your taste is good, Gregson,&quot; said Howland, recovering his good-humor
+as they seated themselves at one of the rough board tables in the
+dining-room. Inwardly he was convinced it would be best to keep to
+himself the incidents of the past two days and nights. &quot;It was a
+beautiful face.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the eyes!&quot; added Gregson, his own gleaming with enthusiasm. &quot;She
+looked at me squarely this afternoon when she and that dark fellow
+passed, and I swear they're the most beautiful eyes I ever saw. And
+her hair--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you think that she knew you?&quot; asked Howland quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Gregson hunched his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How the deuce could she know me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then why did she look at you so 'squarely?' Trying to flirt, do you
+suppose?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Surprise shot into Gregson's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By thunder, no, she wasn't flirting!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;I'd stake my life
+on that. A man never got a clearer, more sinless look than she gave me,
+and yet--Why, deuce take it, she <i>stared</i> at me! I didn't see her again
+after that, but the dark fellow was in here half of the afternoon, and
+now that I come to think of it he did show some interest in me. Why
+do you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just curiosity,&quot; replied Howland, &quot;I don't like flirts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Neither do I,&quot; said Gregson musingly. Their supper came on and they
+conversed but little until its end. Howland had watched his companion
+closely and was satisfied that he knew nothing of Croisset or the girl.
+The fact puzzled him more than ever. How Gregson and Thorne, two of the
+best engineers in the country, could voluntarily surrender a task like
+the building of the Hudson Bay Railroad simply because they were &quot;tired
+of the country&quot; was more than he could understand.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until they were about to leave the table that Howland's eyes
+accidentally fell on Gregson's left hand. He gave an exclamation of
+astonishment when he saw that the little finger was missing. Gregson
+jerked the hand to his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little accident,&quot; he explained. &quot;You'll meet 'em up here, Howland.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before he could move, the young engineer had caught his arm and was
+looking closely at the hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A curious wound,&quot; he remarked, without looking up. &quot;Funny I didn't
+notice it before. Your finger was cut off lengthwise, and here's the
+scar running half way to your wrist. How did you do it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped the hand in time to see a nervous flush in the other's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why--er--fact is, Howland, it was shot off several months ago--in an
+accident, of course.&quot; He hurried through the door, continuing to speak
+over his shoulder as he went, &quot;Now for those after-supper cigars and our
+investigation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As they passed from the dining-room into that part of the inn which was
+half bar and half lounging-room, already filled with smoke and a dozen
+or so picturesque citizens of Le Pas, the rough-jowled proprietor of the
+place motioned to Howland and held out a letter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This came while you was at supper, Mr. Howland,&quot; he explained.</p>
+
+<p>The engineer gave an inward start when he saw the writing on the
+envelope, and as he tore it open he turned so that Gregson could see
+neither his face nor the slip of paper which he drew forth. There was no
+name at the bottom of what he read. It was not necessary, for a glance
+had told him that the writing was that of the girl whose face he had
+seen again that night; and her words to him this time, despite his
+caution, drew a low whistle from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Forgive me for what I have done,&quot; the note ran. &quot;Believe me now. Your
+life is in danger and you must go back to Etomami to-morrow. If you go
+to the Wekusko camp you will not live to come back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's that?&quot; asked Gregson, edging around him curiously.</p>
+
+<p>Howland crushed the note in his hand and thrust it into one of his
+pockets.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A little private affair,&quot; he laughed. &quot;Comes Gregson, let's see what
+we can discover.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the gloom outside one of his hands slipped under his coat and rested
+on the butt of his revolver. Until ten o'clock they mixed casually among
+the populace of Le Pas. Half a hundred people had seen Croisset and his
+beautiful companion, but no one knew anything about them. They had come
+that forenoon on a sledge, had eaten their dinner and supper at the
+cabin of a Scotch tie-cutter named MacDonald, and had left on a sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She was the sweetest thing I ever saw,&quot; exclaimed Mrs. MacDonald
+rapturously. &quot;Only she couldn't talk. Two or three times she wrote
+things to me on a slip of paper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Couldn't talk!&quot; repeated Gregson, as the two men walked leisurely back
+to the boarding-house. &quot;What the deuce do you suppose that means, Jack?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not supposing,&quot; replied Howland indifferently. &quot;We've had enough of
+this pretty face, Gregson. I'm going to bed. What time do we start in
+the morning?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As soon as we've had breakfast--if you're anxious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am. Good night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland went to his room, but it was not to sleep. For hours he sat
+wide-awake, smoking cigar after cigar, and thinking. One by one he went
+over the bewildering incidents of the past two days. At first they had
+stirred his blood with a certain exhilaration--a spice of excitement
+which was not at all unpleasant; but with this excitement there was now
+a peculiar sense of oppression. The attempt that had already been made
+on his life together with the persistent warnings for him to return into
+the South began to have their effect. But Howland was not a man to
+surrender to his fears, if they could be called fears. He was satisfied
+that a mysterious peril of some kind awaited him at the camp on the
+Wekusko, but he gave up trying to fathom the reason for this peril,
+accepting in his businesslike way the fact that it did exist, and that
+in a short time it would probably explain itself. The one puzzling
+factor which he could not drive out of his thoughts was the girl. Her
+sweet face haunted him. At every turn he saw it--now over the table in
+the opium den, now in the white starlight of the trail, again as it had
+looked at him for an instant from the sledge. Vainly he strove to
+discover for himself the lurking of sin in the pure eyes that had seemed
+to plead for his friendship, in the soft lips that had lied to him
+because of their silence. &quot;Please forgive me for what I have done--&quot; He
+unfolded the crumpled note and read the words again and again. &quot;Believe
+me now--&quot; She knew that he knew that she had lied to him, that she had
+lured him into the danger from which she now wished to save him. His
+cheeks burned. If a thousand perils threatened him on the Wekusko he
+would still go. He would meet the girl again. Despite his strongest
+efforts he found it impossible to destroy the vision of her beautiful
+face. The eyes, soft with appeal; the red mouth, quivering, and with
+lips parted as if about to speak to him; the head as he had looked down
+on it with its glory of shining hair--all had burned themselves on his
+soul in a picture too deep to be eradicated. If the wilderness was
+interesting to him before it was doubly so now because that face was a
+part of it, because the secret of its life, of the misery that it had
+half confessed to him, was hidden somewhere out in the black mystery of
+the spruce and balsam forests.</p>
+
+<p>He went to bed, but it was a long time before he fell asleep. It seemed
+to him that he had scarcely closed his eyes when a pounding on the door
+aroused him and he awoke to find the early light of dawn creeping
+through the narrow window of his room. A few minutes later he joined
+Gregson, who was ready for breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The sledge and dogs are waiting,&quot; he greeted. As they seated themselves
+at the table he added, &quot;I've changed my mind since last night, Howland.
+I'm not going back with you. It's absolutely unnecessary, for Thorne
+can put you on to everything at the camp, and I'd rather lose six
+months' salary than take that sledge ride again. You won't mind,
+will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland hunched his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To be honest, Gregson, I don't believe you'd be particularly cheerful
+company. What sort of fellow is the driver?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We call him Jackpine--a Cree Indian--and he's the one faithful slave of
+Thorne and myself at Wekusko. Hunts for us, cooks for us, and watches
+after things generally. You'll like him all right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland did. When they went out to the sledge after their breakfast he
+gave Jackpine a hearty grip of the hand and the Cree's dark face lighted
+up with something like pleasure when he saw the enthusiasm in the young
+engineer's eyes. When the moment for parting came Gregson pulled his
+companion a little to one side. His eyes shifted nervously and Howland
+saw that he was making a strong effort to assume an indifference which
+was not at all Gregson's natural self.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just a word, Howland,&quot; he said. &quot;You know this is a pretty rough
+country up here--some tough people in it, who wouldn't mind cutting a
+man's throat or sending a bullet through him for a good team of dogs and
+a rifle. I'm just telling you this so you'll be on your guard. Have
+Jackpine watch your camp nights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in a low voice and cut himself short when the Indian
+approached. Howland seated himself in the middle of the six-foot
+toboggan, waved his hand to Gregson, then with a wild halloo and a
+snapping of his long caribou-gut whip Jackpine started his dogs on a
+trot down the street, running close beside the sledge. Howland had
+lighted a cigar, and leaning back in a soft mass of furs began to enjoy
+his new experience hugely. Day was just fairly breaking over the forests
+when they turned into the white trail, already beaten hard by the
+passing of many dogs and sledges, that led from Le Pas for a hundred
+miles to the camp on the Wekusko. As they struck the trail the dogs
+strained harder at their traces, with Jackpine's whip curling and
+snapping over their backs until they were leaping swiftly and with
+unbroken rhythm of motion over the snow. Then the Cree gathered in his
+whip and ran close to the leader's flank, his moccasined feet taking the
+short, quick, light steps of the trained forest runner, his chest thrown
+a little out, his eyes on the twisting trail ahead. It was a glorious
+ride, and in the exhilaration of it Howland forgot to smoke the cigar
+that he held between his fingers. His blood thrilled to the tireless
+effort of the grayish-yellow pack of magnificent brutes ahead of him; he
+watched the muscular play of their backs and legs, the eager
+out-reaching of their wolfish heads, their half-gaping jaws, and from
+them he looked at Jackpine. There was no effort in his running. His
+black hair swept back from the gray of his cap; like the dogs there was
+music in his movement, the beauty of strength, of endurance, of manhood
+born to the forests, and when the dogs finally stopped at the foot of a
+huge ridge, panting and half exhausted, Howland quickly leaped from the
+sledge and for the first time spoke to the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was glorious, Jackpine!&quot; he cried. &quot;But, good Lord, man, you'll
+kill the dogs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jackpine grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They go sixt' mile in day lak dat,&quot; He grinned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sixty miles!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In his admiration for the wolfish looking beasts that were carrying him
+through the wilderness Howland put out a hand to stroke one of them on
+the head. With a warning cry the Indian jerked him back just as the dog
+snapped fiercely at the extended hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No touch huskie!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Heem half wolf--half dog--work hard
+but no lak to be touch!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wow!&quot; exclaimed Howland. &quot;And they're the sweetest looking pups I ever
+laid eyes on. I'm certainly running up against some strange things in
+this country!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was dead tired when night came. And yet never in all his life had he
+enjoyed a day so much as this one. Twenty times he had joined Jackpine
+in running beside the sledge. In their intervals of rest he had even
+learned to snap the thirty-foot caribou-gut lash of the dog-whip. He had
+asked a hundred questions, had insisted on Jackpine's smoking a cigar at
+every stop, and had been so happy and so altogether companionable that
+half of the Cree's hereditary reticence had been swept away before his
+unbounded enthusiasm. He helped to build their balsam shelter for the
+night, ate a huge supper of moose meat, hot-stone biscuits, beans and
+coffee, and then, just as he had stretched himself out in his furs for
+the night, he remembered Gregson's warning. He sat up and called to
+Jackpine, who was putting a fresh log on the big fire in front of
+the shelter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night,
+Jackpine. What do you think about it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a
+grin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson--heem ver' much 'fraid,&quot; he replied. &quot;No bad man here--all down
+there and in camp. We kep' watch evr' night. Heem 'fraid--I guess
+so, mebby.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid of what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Jackpine was silent, half bending over the fire. Then he
+held out his left hand, with the little finger doubled out of sight, and
+pointed to it with his other hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mebby heem finger ax'dent--mebby not,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen eager questions brought no further suggestions from Jackpine. In
+fact, no sooner had the words fallen from his driver's lips than Howland
+saw that the Indian was sorry he had spoken them. What he had said
+strengthened the conviction which was slowly growing within him. He had
+wondered at Gregson's strange demeanor, his evident anxiety to get out
+of the country, and lastly at his desire not to return to the camp on
+the Wekusko with him. There was but one solution that came to him. In
+some way which he could not fathom Gregson was associated with the
+mystery which enveloped him, and adding the senior engineer's
+nervousness to the significance of Jackpine's words he was confident
+that the missing finger had become a factor in the enigma. How should he
+find Thorne? Surely he would give him an explanation--if there was an
+explanation to give. Or was it possible that they would leave him
+without warning to face a situation which was driving them back to
+civilization?</p>
+
+<p>He went to sleep, giving no further thought to the guarding of the camp.
+A piping hot breakfast was ready when Jackpine awakened him, and once
+more the exhilarating excitement of their swift race through the forests
+relieved him of the uncomfortable mental tension under which he began to
+find himself. During the whole of the day Jackpine urged the dogs
+almost to the limit of their endurance, and early in the afternoon
+assured his companion that they would reach the Wekusko by nightfall. It
+was already dark when they came out of the forest into a broad stretch
+of cutting beyond which Howland caught the glimmer of scattered lights.
+At the farther edge of the clearing the Cree brought his dogs to a halt
+close to a large log-built cabin half sheltered among the trees. It was
+situated several hundred yards from the nearest of the lights ahead, and
+the unbroken snow about it showed that it had not been used as a
+habitation for some time. Jackpine drew a key from his pocket and
+without a word unlocked and swung open the heavy door.</p>
+
+<p>Damp, cold air swept into the faces of the two as they stood for a
+moment peering into the gloom. Howland could hear the Cree chuckling in
+his inimitable way as he struck a match, and as a big hanging oil lamp
+flared slowly into light he turned a grinning face to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson um Thorne--heem mak' thees cabin when first kam to camp,&quot; he
+said softly. &quot;No be near much noise--fine place in woods where be quiet
+nights. Live here time--then Gregson um Thorne go live in camp. Say too
+far 'way from man. But that not so. Thorne 'fraid--Gregson 'fraid--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He hunched his shoulders again as he opened the door of the big box
+stove which stood in the room.</p>
+
+<p>Howland asked no questions, but stared about him. Everywhere he saw
+evidences of the taste and one-time tenancies of the two senior
+engineers. Heavy bear rugs lay on the board floor; the log walls, hewn
+almost to polished smoothness, were hung with half a dozen pictures; in
+one corner was a bookcase still filled with books, in another a lounge
+covered with furs, and in this side of the room was a door which Howland
+supposed must open into the sleeping apartment. A fire was roaring in
+the big stove before he finished his inspection and as he squared his
+shivering back to the heat he pulled out his pipe and smiled cheerfully
+at Jackpine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid, eh? And am I to stay here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Gregson um Thorne say yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Jackpine, you just hustle over to the camp and tell Thorne I'm
+here, will you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the Indian hesitated, then went out and closed the door
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Afraid!&quot; exclaimed Howland when he had gone. &quot;Now what the devil are
+they afraid of? It's deuced queer, Gregson--and ditto, Thorne. If you're
+not the cowards I'm half believing you to be you won't leave me in the
+dark to face something from which you are running away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He lighted a small lamp and opened the door leading into the other room.
+It was, as he had surmised, the sleeping chamber. The bed, a single
+chair and a mirror and stand were its sole furnishing.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to the larger room, he threw off his coat and hat and seated
+himself comfortably before the fire. Ten minutes later the door opened
+again and Jackpine entered. He was supporting another figure by the arm,
+and as Howland stared into the bloodless face of the man who came with
+him, he could not repress the exclamation of astonishment which rose to
+his lips. Three months before he had last seen Thorne in Chicago; a man
+in the prime of life, powerfully built, as straight as a tree, the most
+efficient and highest paid man in the company's employ. How often had he
+envied Thorne! For years he had been his ideal of a great engineer.
+And now--</p>
+
+<p>He stood speechless. Slowly, as if the movement gave him pain, Thorne
+slipped off the great fur coat from about his shoulders. One of his arms
+was suspended in a sling. His huge shoulders were bent, his eyes wild
+and haggard. The smile that came to his lips as he held out a hand to
+Howland gave to his death-white face an appearance even more ghastly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, Jack!&quot; he greeted. &quot;What's the matter, man? Do I look like a
+ghost?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter, Thorne? I found Gregson half dying at Le Pas, and
+now you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a wonder you're not reading my name on a little board slab instead
+of seeing yours truly in flesh and blood, Jack,&quot; laughed Thorne
+nervously. &quot;A ton of rock, man--a ton of rock, and I was under it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Over Thorne's shoulder the young engineer caught a glimpse of the Cree's
+face. A dark flash had shot into his eyes. His teeth gleamed for an
+instant between his tense lips in something that might have been
+a sneer.</p>
+
+<p>Thorne sat down, rubbing his hands before the fire.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We've been unfortunate, Jack,&quot; he said slowly. &quot;Gregson and I have had
+the worst kind of luck since the day we struck this camp, and we're no
+longer fit for the job. It will take us six months to get on our feet
+again. You'll find everything here in good condition. The line is blazed
+straight to the bay; we've got three hundred good men, plenty of
+supplies, and so far as I know you'll not find a disaffected hand on
+the Wekusko. Probably Gregson and I will take hold of the Le Pas end of
+the line in the spring. It's certainly up to you to build the roadway
+to the bay.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sorry things have gone badly,&quot; replied Howland. He leaned forward
+until his face was close to his companion's. &quot;Thorne, is there a man up
+here named Croisset--or a girl called Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He watched the senior engineer closely. Nothing to confirm his
+suspicions came into Thorne's face. Thorne looked up, a little surprised
+at the tone of the other's voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not that I know of, Jack. There may be a man named Croisset among our
+three hundred workers--you can tell by looking at the pay-roll. There
+are fifteen or twenty married men among us and they have families.
+Gregson knows more about the girls than I. Anything particular?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just a word I've got for them--if they're here,&quot; replied Howland
+carelessly. &quot;Are these my quarters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you like them. When I got hurt we moved up among the men. Brought us
+into closer touch with the working end, you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You and Gregson must have been laid up at about the same time,&quot; said
+the young engineer. &quot;That was a painful wound of Gregson's. I wonder who
+the deuce it was who shot him? Funny that a man like Gregson should have
+an enemy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thorne sat up with a jerk. There came the rattle of a pan from the
+stove, and Howland turned his head in time to see Jackpine staring at
+him as though he had exploded a mine under his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who shot him?&quot; gasped the senior engineer. &quot;Why--er--didn't Gregson
+tell you that it was an accident?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why should he lie, Thorne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A faint flush swept into the other's pallid face. For a moment there was
+a penetrating glare in his eyes as he looked at Howland. Jackpine still
+stood silent and motionless beside the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He told me that it was an accident,&quot; said Thorne at last.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Funny,&quot; was all that Howland said, turning to the Indian as though the
+matter was of no importance. &quot;Ah, Jackpine, I'm glad to see the
+coffee-pot on. I've got a box of the blackest and mildest Porto Ricans
+you ever laid eyes on in my kit, Thorne, and we'll open 'em up for a
+good smoke after supper. Hello, why have you got boards nailed over
+that window?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Howland noticed that the thin muslin curtain, which
+he thought had screened a window, concealed, in place of a window, a
+carefully fitted barricade of plank. A sudden thrill shot through him as
+he rose to examine it. With his back toward Thorne he said, half
+laughing, &quot;Perhaps Gregson was afraid that the fellow who clipped off
+his finger would get him through the window, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pretended not to perceive the effect of his words on the senior
+engineer. The two sat down to supper and for an hour after they had
+finished they smoked and talked on the business of the camp. It was ten
+o'clock when Thorne and Jackpine left the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner had they gone than Howland closed and barred the door, lighted
+another cigar, and began pacing rapidly up and down the room. Already
+there were developments. Gregson had lied to him about his finger.
+Thorne had lied to him about his own injuries, whatever they were. He
+was certain of these two things--and of more. The two senior engineers
+were not leaving the Wekusko because of mere dissatisfaction with the
+work and country. They were fleeing. And for some reason they were
+keeping from him the real motive for their flight. Was it possible that
+they were deliberately sacrificing him in order to save themselves? He
+could not bring himself to believe this, notwithstanding the evidence
+against them. Both were men of irreproachable honor. Thorne,
+especially, was a man of indomitable nerve--a man who would be the last
+in the world to prove treacherous to a business associate or a friend.
+He was sure that neither of them knew of Croisset or of the beautiful
+girl whom he had met at Prince Albert, which led him to believe that
+there were other characters in the strange plot in which he had become
+involved besides those whom he had encountered on the Great North Trail.
+Again he examined the barricaded window and he was more than ever
+convinced that his chance hit at Thorne had struck true.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired from his long day's travel but little inclination to sleep
+came to him, and stretching himself out on the lounge with his head and
+shoulders bolstered up with furs, he continued to smoke and think. He
+was surprised when a little clock tinkled the hour of eleven. He had not
+seen the clock before. Now he listened to the faint monotonous ticking
+it made close to his head until he felt an impelling drowsiness creeping
+over him and he closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when it struck
+again--softly, and yet with sufficient loudness to arouse him. It had
+struck twelve.</p>
+
+<p>With an effort Howland overcame his drowsiness and dragged himself to a
+sitting posture, knowing that he should undress and go to bed. The lamp
+was still burning brightly and he arose to turn down the wick. Suddenly
+he stopped. To his dulled senses there came distinctly the sound of a
+knock at the door. For a few moments he waited, silent and motionless.
+It came again, louder than before, and yet in it there was something of
+caution. It was not the heavy tattoo of one who had come to awaken him
+on a matter of business.</p>
+
+<p>Who could be his midnight visitor? Softly Howland went back to his heavy
+coat and slipped his small revolver into his hip pocket. The knock came
+again. Then he walked to the door, shot back the bolt, and, with his
+right hand gripping the butt of his pistol, flung it wide open.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stood transfixed, staring speechlessly at a white,
+startled face lighted up by the glow of the oil lamp. Bewildered to the
+point of dumbness, he backed slowly, holding the door open, and there
+entered the one person in all the world whom he wished most to see--she
+who had become so strangely a part of his life since that first night at
+Prince Albert, and whose sweet face was holding a deeper meaning for him
+with every hour that he lived. He closed the door and turned, still
+without speaking; and, impelled by a sudden spirit that sent the blood
+thrilling through his veins, he held out both hands to the girl for whom
+he now knew that he was willing to face all of the perils that might
+await him between civilization and the bay.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE LOVE OF A MAN</h3>
+
+<p>For a moment the girl hesitated, her ungloved hands clenched on her
+breast, her bloodless face tense with a strange grief, as she saw the
+outstretched arms of the man whom her treachery had almost lured to his
+death. Then, slowly, she approached, and once more Howland held her
+hands clasped to him and gazed questioningly down into the wild eyes
+that stared into his own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why did you run away from me?&quot; were the first words that he spoke. They
+came from him gently, as if he had known her for a long time. In them
+there was no tone of bitterness; in the warmth of his gray eyes there
+was none of the denunciation which she might have expected. He repeated
+the question, bending his head until he felt the soft touch of her hair
+on his lips. &quot;Why did you run away from me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him, her eyes searching his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I lied to you,&quot; she breathed, her words coming to him in a whisper. &quot;I
+lied--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The words caught in her throat. He saw her struggling to control
+herself, to stop the quivering of her lip, the tremble in her voice. In
+another moment she had broken down, and with a low, sobbing cry sank in
+a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms. As Howland saw
+the convulsive trembling of her shoulders, his soul was flooded with a
+strange joy--not at this sight of her grief, but at the knowledge that
+she was sorry for what she had done. Softly he approached. The girl's
+fur cap had fallen off. Her long, shining braid was half undone and its
+silken strands fell over her shoulder and glistened in the lamp-glow on
+the table. His hand hesitated, and then fell gently on the bowed head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true,&quot; he said.
+&quot;I believe that it was necessary for you to--lie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just once his hand stroked her soft hair, then, catching himself, he
+went to the opposite side of the narrow table and sat down. When the
+girl raised her head there was a bright flush in her cheeks. He could
+see the damp stain of tears on her face, but there was no sign of them
+now in the eyes that seemed seeking in his own the truth of his words,
+spoken a few moments before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You believe that?&quot; she questioned eagerly. &quot;You believe that it was
+necessary for me to--lie?&quot; She leaned a little toward him, her fingers
+twining themselves about one another nervously, as she waited for him
+to answer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Howland. He spoke the one word with a finality that sent a
+gladness into the soft brown eyes across from him. &quot;I believe that you
+<i>had</i> to lie to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His low voice was vibrant with unbounded faith. Other words were on his
+lips, but he forced them back. A part of what he might have said--a part
+of the strange, joyous tumult in his heart--betrayed itself in his face,
+and before that betrayal the girl drew back slowly, the color fading
+from her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I believe you will not lie to me again,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>She rose to her feet and flung back her hair, looking down on him in the
+manner of one who had never before met this kind of man, and knew not
+what to make of him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I will not lie to you again,&quot; she replied, more firmly. &quot;Do you
+believe me now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then go back into the South. I have come to tell you that again
+to-night--to <i>make</i> you believe me. You should have turned back at Le
+Pas. If you don't go--to-morrow--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her voice seemed to choke her, and she stood without finishing, leaving
+him to understand what she had meant to say. In an instant Howland was
+at her side. Once more his old, resolute fighting blood was up. Firmly
+he took her hands again, his eyes compelling her to look up at him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I don't go to-morrow--they will kill me,&quot; he completed, repeating
+the words of her note to him. &quot;Now, if you are going to be honest with
+me, tell me this--<i>who</i> is going to kill me, and <i>why</i>?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her as she answered,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I said that I would not lie to you again. If I can not tell you the
+truth I will tell you nothing. It is impossible for me to say why your
+life is in danger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He seated her again in the chair beside the table and sat down opposite
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you tell me who you are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her
+hair. &quot;Will you?&quot; he persisted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I tell you who I am,&quot; she said at last, &quot;you will know who is
+threatening your life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stated at her in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil, you say!&quot; The words slipped from his lips before he could
+stop them. For a second time the girl rose from her chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot; she entreated. &quot;You will go to-morrow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her hand was on the latch of the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp.
+Laughing, he came toward her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, surely I am going--to see you safely home.&quot; Suddenly he turned
+back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he
+returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can not go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because--&quot; He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
+&quot;Because they will kill you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad that you care,&quot; he whispered to her softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must go!&quot; she still persisted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With you, yes,&quot; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no--to-morrow. You must go back to Le Pas--back into the South.
+Will you promise me that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps,&quot; he said. &quot;I will tell you soon.&quot; She surrendered to the
+determination in his voice and allowed him to pass out into the night
+with her. Swiftly she led him along a path that ran into the deep gloom
+of the balsam and spruce. He could hear the throbbing of her heart and
+her quick, excited breathing as she stopped, one of her hands clasping
+him nervously by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not very far--from here,&quot; she whispered &quot;You must not go with me.
+If they saw me with you--at this hour--&quot; He felt her shuddering
+against him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only a little farther,&quot; he begged.</p>
+
+<p>She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than
+before, until they came to where a few faint lights in the camp were
+visible ahead of them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--now you must go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have not promised,&quot; she entreated. &quot;Will you go--to-morrow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him in the gloom
+Howland saw again the strange, sweet power that had taken possession of
+his soul. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known
+this girl for only a few hours, that until to-night he had heard no word
+pass from her lips. He was conscious only that in the space of those few
+hours something had come into his life which he had never known before;
+and a deep longing to tell her this, to take her sweet face between his
+hands, as they stood in the gloom of the forest, and to confess to her
+that she had become more to him than a passing vision in a strange
+wilderness filled him. That night he had forgotten half of the strenuous
+lesson he had striven years to master; success, ambition, the mere joy
+of achievement, were for the first time sunk under a greater thing for
+him--the pulsating, human presence of this girl; and as he looked down
+into her face, pleading with him still in its white, silent terror, he
+forgot, too, what this woman was or might have been, knowing only that
+to him she had opened a new and glorious world filled with a promise
+that stirred his blood like sharp wine. He crushed her hands once more
+to his breast as he had done on the Great North Trail, holding her so
+close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom against him. He
+spoke no word--and still her eyes pleaded with him to go. Suddenly he
+freed one of his hands and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and
+turned her face gently, until what dim light came down from the stars
+above glowed in the beauty of her eyes. In his own face she saw that
+which he had not dared to speak, and from her lips there came a soft
+little sobbing cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I have not promised--and I will not promise,&quot; he said, holding her
+face so that she could not look away from him. &quot;Forgive me
+for--for--doing this--&quot; And before she could move he caught her for a
+moment close in his arms, holding her so that he felt the quick beating
+of her heart against his own, the sweep of her hair and breath in his
+face. &quot;This is why I will not go back,&quot; he cried softly. &quot;It is because
+I love you--love you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him
+her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will forgive me!&quot; he begged. &quot;I do not mean to do wrong. Only, you
+must know why I shall not go back into the South.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
+Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke,
+but its sweetness thrilled him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I?&quot; He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. &quot;Very soon you will
+forget that you have--ever--seen--me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the
+girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go! Go!&quot; she cried tensely. &quot;Hurry back to the cabin! Lock your
+door--and don't come out again to-night! Oh, please, if you love me,
+please, go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish
+dark shadows between the thinned walls of the forest. He laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not going to run, little girl,&quot; he whispered. &quot;See?&quot; He drew his
+revolver so that it gleamed in the light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>With a frightened gasp the girl pulled him into the thick bushes beside
+the path until they stood a dozen paces from where those who were coming
+down the trail would pass. There was a silence as Howland slipped his
+weapon back into its holster. Then the voices came again, very near, and
+at the sound of them his companion shrank close to him, her hands
+clutching his arms, her white, frightened face raised to him in piteous
+appeal. His blood leaped through him like fire. He knew that the girl
+had recognized the voices--that they who were about to pass him were the
+mysterious enemies against whom she had warned him. Perhaps they were
+the two who had attacked him on the Great North Trail. His muscles grew
+tense. The girl could feel them straining under her hands, could feel
+his body grow rigid and alert. His hand fell again on his revolver; he
+made a step past her, his eyes flashing, his face as set as iron.
+Almost sobbing, she pressed herself against his breast, holding
+him back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't--don't--don't--&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>They could hear the cracking of brush under the feet of those who were
+approaching. Suddenly the sounds ceased not twenty paces away.</p>
+
+<p>From his arms the girl's hands rose slowly to his shoulders, to his
+face, caressingly, pleadingly; her beautiful eyes glowed, half with
+terror, half with a prayer to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't!&quot; she breathed again, so close that her sweet breath fell warm on
+his face. &quot;Don't--if you--if you care for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gently he drew her close in his arms, crushing her face to his breast,
+kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I love you,&quot; he whispered again and again.</p>
+
+<p>The steps were resumed, the voices died away. Then there came a pressure
+against his breast, a gentle resistance, and he opened his arms so that
+the girl drew back from him. Her lips were smiling at him, and in that
+smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and he
+could see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks
+and a dazzling glow into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are gone,&quot; she said tremblingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; they are gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stood looking down into her glowing face in silence. Then, &quot;They are
+gone,&quot; he repeated. &quot;They were the men who tried to kill me at Prince
+Albert. I have let them go--for you. Will you tell me your name?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--that much--now. It is Meleese.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The name fell from him sharply. In an instant there recurred to him all
+that Croisset had said, and there almost came from his lips the
+half-breed's words, which had burned themselves in his memory, &quot;Perhaps
+you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the
+little Meleese.&quot; What had Croisset meant?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese,&quot; he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--Meleese--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew back from him slowly, the color fading from her cheeks; and as
+she saw the light in his eyes, there burst from her a short,
+stifled cry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--you understand--you understand why you must go back into the
+South,&quot; she almost sobbed. &quot;Oh, I have sinned to tell you my name! But
+you will go, won't you? You will go--for me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For you I would go to the end of the earth!&quot; interrupted Howland, his
+pale face near to her. &quot;But you must tell me why. I don't understand
+you. I don't know why those men tried to kill me in Prince Albert. I
+don't know why my life is in danger here. Croisset told me that my
+warning back there came from a girl named Meleese. I didn't understand
+him. I don't understand you. It is all a mystery to me. So far as I know
+I have never had enemies. I never heard your name until Croisset spoke
+it. What did he mean? What do you mean? Why do you want to drive me
+from the Wekusko? Why is my life in danger? It is for you to tell me
+these things. I have been honest with you. I love you. I will fight for
+you if it is necessary--but you must tell me--tell me--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His breath was hot in her face, and she stared at him as if what she
+heard robbed her of the power of speech.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Won't you tell me?&quot; he whispered, more softly. &quot;Meleese--&quot; She made no
+effort to resist him as he drew her once more in his arms, crushing her
+sweet lips to his own. &quot;Meleese, won't you tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head,
+looking squarely into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I tell you,&quot; she said softly, &quot;and in telling you I betray those
+whom I love, will you promise to bring harm to none of them, but go--go
+back into the South?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And leave you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--and leave me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was the faintest tremor of a sob in the voice which she was
+trying so hard to control. His arms tightened about her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will swear to do what is best for you--and for me,&quot; he replied. &quot;I
+will swear to bring harm to none whom you care to shield. But I will not
+promise to leave you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and
+stood back from him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will think--think--&quot; she whispered quickly. &quot;Perhaps I will tell you
+to-morrow night--here--if you will keep your oath and do what is best
+for you--and for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I swear it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will meet you here--at this time--when the others are asleep.
+But--to-morrow--you will be careful--careful--&quot; Unconsciously she half
+reached her arms out to him as she turned toward the path. &quot;You will be
+careful--to-morrow--promise me that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Like a shadow she was gone. He heard her quick steps running up the
+path, saw her form as it disappeared in the forest gloom. For a few
+moments longer he stood, hardly breathing, until he knew that she had
+gone beyond his hearing. Then he walked swiftly along the footpath that
+led to the cabin.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE BLOWING OF THE COYOTE</h3>
+
+<p>In the new excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being,
+Howland forgot his own danger, forgot his old caution and the fears that
+gave birth to it, forgot everything in these moments but Meleese and his
+own great happiness. For he was happy, happier than he had ever been in
+his life, happier than he had ever expected to be. He was conscious of
+no madness in this strange, new joy that swept through his being like a
+fire; he did not stop to weigh with himself the unreasoning impulses
+that filled him. He had held Meleese in his arms, he had told her of his
+love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness he was
+thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes, which had spoken
+faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. And his faith in her had
+become as limitless as the blue space above him. He had known her for
+but a few hours and yet in that time it seemed to him that he had lived
+longer than in all of the years that had gone before. She had lied to
+him, had divulged only a part of her identity--and yet he knew that
+there were reasons for these things.</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow night he would see her again, and then--</p>
+
+<p>What would she tell him? Whatever it was, it was to be a reward for his
+own love. He knew that, by the half-fearing tremble of her voice, the
+sobbing catch of her breath, the soft glow in her eyes. Impelled by that
+love, would she confide in him? And then--would he go back into
+the South?</p>
+
+<p>He laughed, softly, joyfully.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, he would go back into the South--he would go to the other end of
+the earth, if she would go with him. What was the building of this
+railroad now to that other great thing that had come into his life? For
+the first time he saw duty in another light. There were others who
+could build the road; success, fortune, ambition--in the old way he had
+seen them--were overshadowed now by this love of a girl.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped and lighted his pipe. The fragrant odor of the tobacco, the
+flavor of the warm smoke in his mouth, helped to readjust him, to cool
+his heated brain. The old fighting instincts leaped into life again. Go
+into the South? He asked himself the question once more, and in the
+gloomy silence of the forest his low laugh fell again as he clenched his
+hands in anticipation of what was ahead of him. No--he would build the
+road! And in building it he would win this girl, if it was given for him
+to possess her.</p>
+
+<p>His saner thoughts brought back his caution. He went more slowly toward
+the cabin, keeping in the deep shadows and stopping now and then to
+listen. At the edge of the clearing he paused for a long time. There was
+no sign of life about the cabin abandoned by Gregson and Thorne. It was
+probable that the two men who had passed along the path had returned to
+the camp by another trail, and still keeping as much within the shadows
+as possible he went to the door and entered.</p>
+
+<p>With his feet propped in front of the big box stove sat Jackpine. The
+Indian rose as Howland entered, and something in the sullen gloom of his
+face caused the young engineer to eye him questioningly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Any one been here, Jackpine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old sledge-driver gave his head a negative shake and hunched his
+shoulders, pointing at the same time to the table, on which lay a
+carefully folded piece of paper.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thorne,&quot; he grunted.</p>
+
+<p>Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp, and read:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;MY DEAR HOWLAND:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I forgot to tell you that our mail sledge starts for Le Pas to-morrow
+at noon, and as I'm planning on going down with it I want you to get
+over as early as you can in the morning. Can put you on to everything in
+the camp between eight and twelve. THORNE.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where do you sleep, Jackpine?&quot; he asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cabin in edge of woods,&quot; replied the Indian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How about breakfast? Thorne hasn't put me on to the grub line yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thorne say you eat with heem in mornin'. I come early--wake you. After
+heem go--to-morrow--eat here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You needn't wake me,&quot; said Howland, throwing off his coat. &quot;I'll find
+Thorne--probably before he's up. Good night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jackpine had half opened the door, and for a moment the engineer caught
+a glimpse of his dark, grinning face looking back over his shoulder. He
+hesitated, as if about to speak, and then with a mouthful of his
+inimitable chuckles, he went out.</p>
+
+<p>After bolting the door Howland lighted a small table lamp, entered the
+sleeping room and prepared for bed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Got to have a little sleep no matter if things are going off like a
+Fourth of July celebration,&quot; he grumbled, and rolled between the sheets.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of his old habit of rising with the breaking of dawn it was
+Jackpine who awakened him a few hours later. The camp was hardly astir
+when he followed the Indian down among the log cabins to Thorne's
+quarters. The senior engineer was already dressed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sorry to hustle you so, Howland,&quot; he greeted, &quot;but I've got to go down
+with the mail. Just between you and me I don't believe the camp doctor
+is much on his job. I've got a deuced bad shoulder and a worse arm, and
+I'm going down to a good surgeon as fast as I can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Didn't they send Weston up with you?&quot; asked Howland. He knew that
+Weston was the best &quot;accident man&quot; in the company's employ.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--Weston,&quot; replied the senior, eying him sharply. &quot;I don't mean to
+say he's not a good man, Howland,&quot; he amended quickly. &quot;But he doesn't
+quite seem to take hold of this hurt of mine. By the way, I looked over
+our pay-roll and there is no Croisset on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For an hour after breakfast the two men were busy with papers, maps and
+drawings relative to the camp work. Howland had kept in close touch with
+operations from Chicago and by the time they were ready to leave for
+outside inspection he was confident that he could take hold without the
+personal assistance of either Gregson or Thorne. Before that hour had
+passed he was certain of at least one other thing--that it was not
+incompetency that was taking the two senior engineers back to the home
+office. He had half expected to find the working-end in the same
+disorganized condition as its chiefs. But if Gregson and Thorne had been
+laboring under a tremendous strain of some kind it was not reflected in
+the company's work, as shown in the office records which the latter had
+spread out before him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's a big six months' work,&quot; said Thorne when they had finished.
+&quot;Good Lord, man, when we first came up here a jack-rabbit couldn't hop
+through this place where you're sitting, and now see what we've got!
+Fifty cabins, four mess-halls, two of the biggest warehouses north of
+Winnipeg, a post-office, a hospital, three blacksmith shops and--a
+ship-yard!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A ship-yard!&quot; exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure, with a fifty-ton ship half built and frozen stiff in the ice. You
+can finish her in the spring and you'll find her mighty useful for
+bringing supplies from the head of the Wekusko. We're using horses on
+the ice now. Had a deuced hard time in getting fifty of 'em up from Le
+Pas. And besides all this, we've got six miles of road-bed built to the
+south and three to the north. We've got a sub-camp at each working-end,
+but most of the men still prefer to come in at night.&quot; He dragged
+himself slowly and painfully to his feet as a knock sounded at the door.
+&quot;That's MacDonald, our camp superintendent,&quot; he explained. &quot;Told him to
+be here at eight. He's a corker for taking hold of things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little, wiry, red-headed man hopped in as Thorne threw open the door.
+The moment his eyes fell on Howland he sprang forward with outstretched
+hand, smiling and bobbing his head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland, of course!&quot; he cried. &quot;Glad to see you! Five minutes
+late--awful sorry--but they're having the devil's own time over at a
+coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a
+cricket.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus tell me
+if Jackpine brought me the cigarettes from Le Pas. If he forgot them, as
+the mail did, I'll have his life as sure--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He brought them,&quot; said Thorne. &quot;But how about this coyote, Mac? I
+thought it was ready to fire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So it is--now. The south ridge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.
+We'll blow up the big north mountains sometime to-night. It'll make a
+glorious fireworks--one hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder and
+four fifty-pound cases of dynamite--and if you can't walk that far,
+Thorne, we'll take you up on a sledge. Mustn't allow you to miss it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the mail. That's why
+I want you with Howland and me this morning. It will be up to you to get
+him acquainted with every detail in camp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bully!&quot; exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing his hands with
+brisk enthusiasm. &quot;Greggy and Thorne have done some remarkable things,
+Mr. Howland. You'll open your eyes when you see 'em! Talk about building
+railroads! We've got 'em all beat a thousand ways--tearing through
+forests, swamps and those blooming ridge-mountains--and here we are
+pretty near up at the end of the earth. The new Trans-continental isn't
+in it with us! The--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ring off, Mac!&quot; exclaimed Thorne; and Howland found himself laughing
+down into the red, freckled face of the superintendent. He liked this
+man immensely from the first.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He's a bunch of live wires, double-charged all the time,&quot; said Thorne
+in a low voice as MacDonald went out ahead of them. &quot;Always like
+that--happy as a boy most of the time, loved by the men, but the very
+devil himself when he's riled. Don't know what this camp would do
+without him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This same thought occurred to Howland a dozen times during the next two
+hours. MacDonald seemed to be the life and law of the camp, and he
+wondered more and more at Thorne's demeanor. The camp chiefs and gang
+foremen whom they met seemed to stand in a certain awe of the senior
+engineer, but it was at the little red-headed Scotchman's cheery words
+that their eyes lighted with enthusiasm. This was not like the old
+Thorne, who had been the eye, the ear and the tongue of the company's
+greatest engineering works for a decade past, and whose boundless
+enthusiasm and love of work had been the largest factors in the winning
+of fame that was more than national. He began to note that there was a
+strange nervousness about Thorne when they were among the men, an uneasy
+alertness in his eyes, as though he were looking for some particular
+face among those they encountered. MacDonald's shrewd eyes observed his
+perplexity, and once he took an opportunity to whisper:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess it's about time for Thorne to get back into civilization.
+There's something bad in his system. Weston told me yesterday that his
+injuries are coming along finely. I don't understand it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A little later they returned with Thorne to his room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want Howland to see this south coyote go up,&quot; said MacDonald. &quot;Can
+you spare him? We'll be back before noon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That will give me
+time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland fancied that there was a certain tone of relief in the senior's
+voice, but he made no mention of it to the superintendent as they walked
+swiftly to the scene of the &quot;blow-out.&quot; The coyote was ready for firing
+when they arrived. The coyote itself--a tunnel of fifty feet dug into
+the solid rock of the mountain and terminating in a chamber packed with
+explosives--was closed by masses of broken rock, rammed tight, and
+MacDonald showed his companion where the electric wire passed to the
+fuse within.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's a confounded mystery to me why Thorne doesn't care to see this
+ridge blown up!&quot; he exclaimed after they had finished the inspection.
+&quot;We've been at work for three months drilling this coyote, and the
+bigger one to the north. There are four thousand square yards of rock to
+come out of there, and six thousand out of the other. You don't see
+shots like those three times in a lifetime, and there'll not be another
+for us between here and the bay. What's the matter with Thorne?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for a reply MacDonald walked swiftly in the direction of
+a ridge to the right. Already guards had been thrown out on all sides of
+the mountain and their thrilling warnings of &quot;Fire--Fire--Fire,&quot; shouted
+through megaphones of birch-bark, echoed with ominous meaning through
+the still wilderness, where for the time all work had ceased. On the top
+of the ridge half a hundred of the workmen had already assembled, and as
+Howland and the superintendent came among them they fell back from
+around a big, flat boulder on which was stationed the electric battery.
+MacDonald's face was flushed and his eyes snapped like dragonflies as he
+pointed to a tiny button.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God, but I can't understand why Thorne doesn't care to see this,&quot; he
+said again. &quot;Think of it, man--seven thousand five hundred pounds of
+powder and two hundred of dynamite! A touch of this button, a flash
+along the wire, and the fuse is struck. Then, four or five minutes, and
+up goes a mountain that has stood here since the world began. Isn't it
+glorious?&quot; He straightened himself and took off his hat. &quot;Mr. Howland,
+will you press the button?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a strange thrill Howland bent over the battery, his eyes turned to
+the mass of rock looming sullen and black half a mile away, as if
+bidding defiance in the face of impending fate. Tremblingly his finger
+pressed on the little white knob, and a silence like that of death fell
+on those who watched. One minute--two--three--five passed, while in the
+bowels of the mountain the fuse was sizzling to its end. Then there came
+a puff, something like a cloud of dust rising skyward, but without
+sound; and before its upward belching had ceased a tongue of flame
+spurted out of its crest--and after that, perhaps two seconds later,
+came the explosion. There was a rumbling and a jarring, as if the earth
+were convulsed under foot; volumes of dense black smoke shot upward,
+shutting the mountain in an impenetrable pall of gloom; and in an
+instant these rolling, twisting volumes of black became lurid, and an
+explosion like that of a thousand great guns rent the air. As fast as
+the eye could follow, sheets of flame shot out of the sea of smoke,
+climbing higher and higher, in lightning flashes, until the lurid
+tongues licked the air a quarter of a mile above the startled
+wilderness. Explosion followed explosion, some of them coming in hollow,
+reverberating booms, others sounding as if in mid-air. The heavens were
+filled with hurtling rocks; solid masses of granite ten feet square were
+thrown a hundred feet away; rocks weighing a ton were hurled still
+farther, as if they were no more than stones flung by the hand of a
+giant; chunks that would have crashed from the roof to the basement of a
+sky-scraper dropped a third and nearly a half a mile away. For three
+minutes the frightful convulsions continued. Then the lurid lights died
+out of the pall of smoke, and the pall itself began to settle. Howland
+felt a grip on his arm. Dumbly he turned and looked into the white,
+staring face of the superintendent. His ears tingled, every fiber in him
+seemed unstrung. MacDonald's voice came to him strange and weird.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think of that, Howland?&quot; The two men gripped hands, and
+when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn
+and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred
+the path of the new road to the bay.</p>
+
+<p>Howland talked but little on their way back to camp. The scene that he
+had just witnessed affected him strangely; it stirred once more within
+him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither
+found voice in words. He was glad when the dinner was over at Thorne's,
+and with the going of the mail sledge and the senior engineer there came
+over him a still deeper sense of joy. Now <i>he</i> was in charge, it was
+<i>his</i> road from that hour on. He crushed MacDonald's hand in a grip that
+meant more than words when they parted. In his own cabin he threw off
+his coat and hat, lighted his pipe, and tried to realize just what this
+all meant for him. He was in charge--in charge of the greatest railroad
+building job on earth--<i>he</i>, Jack Howland, who less than twenty years
+ago was a barefooted, half-starved urchin peddling papers in the streets
+where he was now famous! And now what was this black thing that had come
+up to threaten his chances just as he had about won his great fight? He
+clenched his hands as he thought again of what had already happened--the
+cowardly attempt on his life, the warnings, and his blood boiled to
+fever heat. That night--after he had seen Meleese--he would know what to
+do. But he would not be driven away, as Gregson and Thorne had been
+driven. He was determined on that.</p>
+
+<p>The gloom of night falls early in the great northern mid-winter, and it
+was already growing dusk when there came the sound of a voice outside,
+followed a moment later by a loud knock at the door. At Howland's
+invitation the door opened and the head and shoulders of a man appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Something has gone wrong out at the north coyote, sir, and Mr.
+MacDonald wants you just as fast as you can get out there,&quot; he said. &quot;He
+sent me down for you with a sledge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing,&quot; said Howland,
+putting on his hat and coat. &quot;What's the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible
+sweat to see you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later the sledge drew up close to the place where Howland
+had seen a score of men packing bags of powder and dynamite earlier in
+the day. Half a dozen lanterns were burning among the rocks, but there
+was no sign of movement or life. The engineer's companion gave a sudden
+sharp crack of his long whip and in response to it there came a muffled
+halloo from out of the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's MacDonald, sir. You'll find him right up there near that second
+light, where the coyote opens up. He's grilling the life out of half a
+dozen men in the chamber, where he found the dynamite on top of the
+powder instead of under it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right!&quot; called back Howland, starting up among the rocks. Hardly
+had he taken a dozen steps when a dark object shot out behind him and,
+fell with crushing force on his head. With, a groaning cry he fell
+forward on his face. For a few moments he was conscious of voices about
+him; he knew that he was being lifted in the arms of men, and that after
+a time they were carrying him so that his feet dragged on the ground.
+After that he seemed to be sinking down--down--down--until he lost all
+sense of existence in a chaos of inky blackness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE HOUR OF DEATH</h3>
+
+<p>A red, unwinking eye staring at him fixedly from out of impenetrable
+gloom--an ogreish, gleaming thing that brought life back into him with a
+thrill of horror--was Howland's first vision of returning consciousness.
+It was dead in front of him, on a level with his face--a ball of yellow
+fire that seemed to burn into his very soul. He tried to cry out, but no
+sound fell from his lips; he strove to move, to fight himself away, but
+there was no power of movement in his limbs. The eye grew larger. He saw
+that it was so bright it cast a halo, and the halo widened before his
+own staring eyes until the dense gloom about it seemed to be melting
+away. Then he knew. It was a lantern in front of him, not more than ten
+feet away. Consciousness flooded him, and he made another effort to cry
+out, to free his arms from an invisible clutch that held him powerless.
+At first he thought this was the clutch of human hands; then as the
+lantern-light revealed more clearly the things about him and the
+outlines of his own figure, he saw that it was a rope, and he knew that
+he was unable to cry out because of something tight and suffocating
+about his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>The truth came to him swiftly. He had come up to the coyote on a sledge.
+Some one had struck him. He remembered that men had half-dragged him
+over the rocks, and these men had bound and gagged him, and left him
+here, with the lantern staring him in the face. But where was he? He
+shifted his eyes, straining to penetrate the gloom. Ahead of him, just
+beyond the light, there was a black wall; he could not move his head,
+but he saw where that same wall closed in on the left. He turned his
+gaze upward, and it ended with that same imprisoning barrier of rock.
+Then he looked down, and the cry of horror that rose in his throat died
+in a muffled groan. The light fell dimly on a sack--two of
+them--three--a tightly packed wall of them.</p>
+
+<p>He knew now what had happened. He was imprisoned in the coyote, and the
+sacks about him were filled with powder. He was sitting on something
+hard--a box--fifty pounds of dynamite! The cold sweat stood out in beads
+on his face, glistening in the lantern-glow. From between his feet a
+thin, white, ghostly line ran out until it lost itself in the blackness
+under the lantern. It was the fuse, leading to the box of dynamite on
+which he was sitting!</p>
+
+<p>Madly he struggled at the thongs that bound him until he sank exhausted
+against the row of powder sacks at his back. Like words of fire
+the last warning of Meleese burned in his brain--&quot;You must go,
+to-morrow--to-morrow--or they will kill you!&quot; And this was the way in
+which he was to die! There flamed before his eyes the terrible spectacle
+which he had witnessed a few hours before--the holocaust of fire and
+smoke and thunder that had disrupted a mountain, a chaos of writhing,
+twisting fury, and in that moment his heart seemed to cease its beating.
+He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Was it possible that there
+lived men so fiendish as to condemn him to this sort of death? Why had
+not his enemies killed him out among the rocks? That would have been
+easier--quicker--less troublesome. Why did they wish to torture him?
+What terrible thing had he done? Was he mad--mad--and this all a
+terrible nightmare, a raving find unreal contortion of things in his
+brain? In this hour of death question after question raced through his
+head, and he answered no one of them. He sat still for a time, scarcely
+breathing. There was no sound, save the beating of his own heart. Then
+there came another, almost unheard at first, faint, thrilling,
+maddening.</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick!</p>
+
+<p>It was the beating of his watch. A spasm of horror seized him.</p>
+
+<p>What time was it? The coyote was to be fired at nine o'clock. It was
+four when he left his cabin. How long had he been unconscious? Was it
+time now--now? Was MacDonald's finger already reaching out to that
+little white button which would send him into eternity?</p>
+
+<p>He struggled again, gnashing furiously at the thing which covered his
+mouth, tearing the flesh of his wrists as he twisted at the ropes which
+bound him, choking himself with his efforts to loosen the thong about
+his neck. Exhausted again, he sank back, panting, half dead. As he lay
+with closed eyes a little of his reason asserted itself. After all, was
+he such a coward as to go mad?</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick!</p>
+
+<p>His watch was beating at a furious rate. Was something wrong with it?
+Was it going too fast? He tried to count the seconds, but they raced
+away from him. When he looked again his gaze fell on the little yellow
+tongue of flame in the lantern globe. It was not the steady, unwinking
+eye of a few minutes before. There was a sputtering weakness about it
+now, and as he watched the light grew fainter and fainter. The flame was
+going out. A few minutes more and he would be in darkness. At first the
+significance of it did not come to him; then he straightened himself
+with a jerk that tightened the thong about his neck until it choked him.
+Hours must have passed since the lantern had been placed on that rock,
+else the oil would not be burned out of it now!</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Howland realized that it was becoming more and more
+difficult for him to get breath. The thing about his neck was
+tightening, slowly, inexorably, like a hot band of steel, and suddenly,
+because of this tightening, he found that he had recovered his voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Whatever had been about his mouth had slipped down and his words sounded
+hollow and choking in the rock-bound chamber. He tried to raise his
+voice in a shout, though he knew how futile his loudest shrieks would
+be. The effort choked him more. His suffering was becoming excruciating.
+Sharp pains darted like red-hot needles through his limbs, his back
+tortured him, and his head ached as though a knife had cleft the base of
+his skull. The strength of his limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt
+any sensation in his cramped feet. He measured the paralysis creeping up
+his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it--and then a
+groan of horror rose to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>The light had gone out!</p>
+
+<p>As if that dying of the little yellow flame were the signal for his
+death, there came to his ears a sharp hissing sound, a spark leaped up
+into the blackness before his eyes, and a slow, creeping glow came
+toward him over the rock at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>The hour--the minute--the second had come, and MacDonald had pressed the
+little white button that was to send him into eternity! He did not cry
+out now. He knew that the end was very near, and in its nearness he
+found new strength. Once he had seen a man walk to his death on the
+scaffold, and as the condemned had spoken his last farewell, with the
+noose about his neck, he had marveled at the clearness of his voice, at
+the fearlessness of this creature in his last moment on earth.</p>
+
+<p>Now he understood. Inch by inch the fuse burned toward him--a fifth of
+the distance, a quarter--now a third. At last it reached a half--was
+almost under his feet. Two minutes more of life. He put his whole
+strength once again in an attempt to free his hands. This time his
+attempt was cool, steady, masterful---with death one hundred seconds
+away. His heart gave a sudden bursting leap into his throat when he felt
+something give. Another effort--and in the powder-choked vault there
+rang out a thrilling cry of triumph. His hands were free! He reached
+forward to the fuse, and this time a moaning, wordless sob fell from
+him, faint, terrifying, with all the horror that might fill a human
+soul in its inarticulate note. He could not reach the fuse because of
+the thong about his neck!</p>
+
+<p>He felt for his knife. He had left it in his room. Sixty seconds
+more--forty--thirty! He could see the fiery end of the fuse almost at
+his feet. Suddenly his groping fingers came in contact with the cold
+steel of his pocket revolver and with a last hope he snatched it forth,
+stretching down his pistol arm until the muzzle of the weapon was within
+a dozen inches of the deadly spark. At his first shot the spark leaped,
+but did not go out. After the second there was no longer the fiery,
+creeping thing on the floor, and, crushing his head back against the
+sacks, Howland sat for many minutes as if death had in reality come to
+him in the moment of his deliverance. After a time, with tedious
+slowness, he worked a hand into his trousers' pocket, where he carried a
+pen-knife. It took him a long time to saw through the rawhide thong
+about his neck. After that he cut the rope that bound his ankles.</p>
+
+<p>He made an effort to rise, but no sooner had he gained his feet than his
+paralyzed limbs gave way under him and he dropped in a heap on the
+floor. Very slowly the blood began finding its way through his choked
+veins again, and with the change there came over him a feeling of
+infinite restfulness. He stretched himself out, with his face turned to
+the black wall above, realizing only that he was saved, that he had
+outwitted his mysterious enemies again, and that he was comfortable. He
+made no effort to think--to scheme out his further deliverance. He was
+with the powder and the dynamite, and the powder and the dynamite could
+not be exploded until human hands came to attach a new fuse. MacDonald
+would attend to that very soon, so he went off into a doze that was
+almost sleep. In his half-consciousness there came to him but one
+sound--that dreadful ticking of his watch. He seemed to have listened
+to it for hours when there arose another sound--the ticking of
+another watch.</p>
+
+<p>He sat up, startled, wondering, and then he laughed happily as he heard
+the sound more distinctly. It was the beating of picks on the rock
+outside. Already MacDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the
+coyote. In half an hour he would be out in the big, breathing
+world again.</p>
+
+<p>The thought brought him to his feet. The numbness was gone from his
+limbs and he could walk about. His first move was to strike a match and
+look at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-past ten!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the words aloud, thinking of Meleese. In an hour and a half he
+was to meet her on the trail. Would he be released in time to keep the
+tryst? How should he explain his imprisonment in the coyote so that he
+could leave MacDonald without further loss of time? As the sound of the
+picks came nearer his brain began working faster. If he could only evade
+explanations until morning--and then reveal the whole dastardly
+business to MacDonald! There would be time then for those explanations,
+for the running down of his murderous assailants, and in the while he
+would be able to keep his appointment with Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>He was not long in finding a way in which this scheme could be worked,
+and gathering up the severed ropes and rawhide he concealed them between
+two of the powder sacks so that those who entered the coyote would
+discover no signs of his terrible imprisonment. Close to the mouth of
+the tunnel there was a black rent in the wall of rock, made by a
+bursting charge of dynamite, in which he could conceal himself. When the
+men were busy examining the broken fuse he would step out and join them.
+It would look as though he had crawled through the tunnel after them.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later a mass of rock rolled down close to his feet, and a
+few moments after he saw a shadowy human form crawling through the hole
+it had left. A second followed, and then a third;--and the first voice
+he heard was that of MacDonald.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give us the lantern, Bucky,&quot; he called back, and a gleam of light shot
+into the black chamber. The men walked cautiously toward the fuse, and
+Howland saw the little superintendent fall on his knees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in hell!&quot; he heard him exclaim, and then there was a silence. As
+quietly as a cat Howland worked himself to the entrance and made a
+clatter among the rocks. It was he who responded to the voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's up, MacDonald?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He coolly joined the little group. MacDonald looked up, and when he saw
+the new chief bending over him his eyes stared in unbounded wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Howland!&quot; he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>It was all he said, but in that one word and in the strange excitement
+in the superintendent's face Howland read that which made him turn
+quickly to the men, giving them his first command as general-in-chief of
+the road that was going to the bay.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get out of the coyote, boys,&quot; he said. &quot;We won't do anything more until
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To MacDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low
+voice:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Guard the entrance to this tunnel with half a dozen of your best men
+to-night, MacDonald. I know things which will lead me to investigate
+this to-morrow. I'm going to leave you as soon as I get outside. Spread
+the report that it was simply a bad fuse. Understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He crawled out ahead of the superintendent, and before MacDonald had
+emerged from the coyote he had already lost himself in the starlit gloom
+of the night and was hastening to his tryst with the beautiful girl,
+who, he believed, would reveal to him at least a part of one of the
+strangest and most diabolical plots that had ever originated in the
+brain of man.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE TRYST</h3>
+
+<p>It still lacked nearly an hour of the appointed time when Howland came
+to the secluded spot in the trail where he was to meet Meleese.
+Concealed in the deep shadows of the bushes he seated himself on the end
+of a fallen spruce and loaded his pipe, taking care to light it with the
+flare of the match hidden in the hollow of his hands. For the first time
+since his terrible experience in the coyote he found himself free to
+think, and more than ever he began to see the necessity of coolness and
+of judgment in what he was about to do. Gradually, too, he fought
+himself back into his old faith in Meleese. His blood was tingling at
+fever heat in his desire for vengeance, for the punishment of the human
+fiends who had attempted to blow him to atoms, and yet at the same time
+there was no bitterness in him toward the girl. He was sure that she
+was an unwilling factor in the plot, and that she was doing all in her
+power to save him. At the same time he began to realize that he should
+no longer be influenced by her pleading. He had promised--in return for
+her confidence this night--to leave unpunished those whom she wished to
+shield. He would take back that promise. Before she revealed anything to
+him he would warn her that he was determined to discover those who had
+twice sought to kill him.</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch again. Was it
+possible that Meleese would not come? He could not bring himself to
+believe that she knew of his imprisonment in the coyote--of this second
+attempt on his life. And yet--if she did--</p>
+
+<p>He rose from the log and began pacing quickly back and forth in the
+gloom, his thoughts racing through his brain with increasing
+apprehension. Those who had imprisoned him had learned of his escape an
+hour ago. Many things might have happened in that time. Perhaps they
+were fleeing from the camp. Frightened by their failure, and fearing the
+punishment which would be theirs if discovered, it was not improbable
+that even now they were many miles from the Wekusko, hurrying deeper
+into the unknown wilderness to the north. And Meleese would be
+with them!</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he heard a step, a light, running step, and with a recognizing
+cry he sprang out into the starlight to meet the slim, panting,
+white-faced figure that ran to him from between the thick walls of
+forest trees.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese?&quot; he exclaimed softly.</p>
+
+<p>He held out his arms and the girl ran straight into them, thrusting her
+hands against his breast, throwing back her head so that she looked up
+into his face with great, staring, horror-filled eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now--now--&quot; she sobbed, &quot;<i>now</i> will you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her hands left his breast and crept to his shoulders; slowly they
+slipped over them, and as Howland pressed her closer, his lips silent,
+she gave an agonized cry and dropped her head against his shoulder, her
+whole body torn in a convulsion of grief and terror that startled him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will go?&quot; she sobbed again and again. &quot;You will go--you will go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I am not going, dear,&quot; he replied in a low, firm voice. &quot;Not after
+what happened to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him as quickly as if he had struck her, freeing
+herself even from the touch of his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I heard--what happened--an hour ago,&quot; she said, her voice choking her.
+&quot;I overheard--them--talking.&quot; She struggled hard to control herself.
+&quot;You must leave the camp--to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the gloom she saw Howland's teeth gleaming. There was no fear in his
+smile; he laughed gently down into her eyes as he took her face between
+his hands again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want to take back the promise that I gave you last night, Meleese. I
+want to give you a chance to warn any whom you may wish to warn. I shall
+not return into the South. From this hour begins the hunt for the
+cowardly devils who have tried to murder me. Before dawn every man on
+the Wekusko will be in the search, and if we find them there shall be no
+mercy. Will you help me, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She struck his hands from her face, springing back before he had
+finished. He saw a sudden change of expression; her lips grew tense and
+firm; from the death whiteness of her face there faded slowly away the
+look of soft pleading, the quivering lines of fear. There was a
+strangeness in her voice when she spoke--something of the hard
+determination which Howland had put in his own, and yet the tone of it
+lacked his gentleness and love.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you please tell me the time?&quot; The question was almost startling.
+Howland held the dial of his watch to the light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a quarter past midnight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you certain that your watch is not fast?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because it will mean a great deal to you and to me if it is not a
+quarter past midnight,&quot; continued Meleese, a growing glow in her eyes.
+Suddenly she approached him and put both of her warm hands to his face,
+holding down his arms with her own. &quot;Listen,&quot; she whispered. &quot;Is there
+nothing--nothing that will make you change your purpose, that will take
+you back into the South--to-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The nearness of the sweet face, the gentle touch of the girl's hands,
+the soft breath of her lips, sent a maddening impulse through Howland
+to surrender everything to her. For an instant he wavered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There might be one--just <i>one</i> thing that would take me away to-night,&quot;
+he replied, his voice trembling with the great love that thrilled him.
+&quot;For you, Meleese, I would give up everything--ambition, fortune, the
+building of this road. If I go to-night will you go with me? Will you
+promise to be my wife when we reach Le Pas?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am--what
+I have done--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you done wrong--a great wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment her eyes faltered; then, hesitatingly, there fell from her
+lips, &quot;I--don't--know. I believe I have. But it's not that--it's
+not <i>that!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean that--that I have no right to tell you I love you?&quot; he
+asked. &quot;Do you mean that it is wrong for you to listen to me?
+I--I--took it for granted that you were a--girl--that--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, it is not that,&quot; she cried quickly, catching his meaning. &quot;It
+is not wrong for you to love me.&quot; Suddenly she asked again, &quot;Will you
+please tell me what time it is--now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Twenty-five minutes after midnight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let us go farther up the trail,&quot; she whispered. &quot;I am afraid here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She led the way, passing swiftly beyond the path that branched out to
+his cabin. Two hundred yards beyond this a tree had fallen on the edge
+of the trail, and seating herself on it Meleese motioned for him to sit
+down beside her. Howland's back was to the thick bushes behind them. He
+looked at the girl, but she had turned away her face. Suddenly she
+sprang from the log and stood in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now!&quot; she cried. &quot;Now!&quot; and at that signal Howland's arms were seized
+from behind, and in another instant he was struggling feebly in the
+grip of powerful arms which had fastened themselves about him like wire
+cable, and the cry that rose to his lips was throttled by a hand over
+his mouth. For an instant he caught a glimpse of the girl's white face
+as she stood in the trail; then strong hands pulled him back, while
+others bound his wrists and still others held his legs. Everything had
+passed in a few seconds. Helplessly bound and gagged he lay on his back
+in the snow, listening to the low voices that came faintly to him from
+beyond the bushes. He could understand nothing that they said--and yet
+he was sure that he recognized among them the voice of Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>The voices became fainter; he heard retreating footsteps, and at last
+they died away entirely. Through a rift in the trees straight above him
+the white, cold stars of the night gleamed down on him, and Howland
+stared up at them fixedly until they seemed to be hopping and dancing
+about in the skies. He wanted to swear--yell--fight. In these moments
+that he lay on his back in the freezing snow a million demons were born
+in his blood. The girl had betrayed him again! This time he could find
+no excuse--no pardon for her. She had accepted his love--had allowed him
+to kiss her, to hold her in his arms--while beneath that hypocrisy she
+had plotted his downfall a second time. Deliberately she had given the
+signal for attack, and now--</p>
+
+<p>He heard again the quick, running step that he had recognized on the
+trail. The bushes behind him parted, and in the white starlight Meleese
+fell on her knees at his side, her glorious face bending over him in a
+grief that he had never seen in it before, her eyes shining on him with
+a great love. Without speaking she lifted his head in the hollow of her
+arm and crushed her own down against it, kissing him, and softly
+sobbing his name.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good-by,&quot; he heard her breathe. &quot;Good-by--good-by--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He struggled to cry out as she lowered his head back on the snow, to
+free his hands, to hold her with him--but he saw her face only once
+more, bending over him; felt the warm pressure of her lips to his
+forehead, and then again he could hear her footsteps hurrying away
+through the forest.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>A RACE INTO THE NORTH</h3>
+
+<p>That Meleese loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had
+kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howland's brain for many
+minutes after she had left him bound and gagged on the snow. That she
+had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as
+significant. He still felt the sweet, warm touch of her lips, the
+pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair. It was not
+until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a
+full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened. He heard
+first of all the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the
+pattering of dogs' feet, and after that the voices of men. The sounds
+stopped on the trail a dozen feet away from him.</p>
+
+<p>With a strange thrill he recognized Croisset's voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must be sure that you make no mistake,&quot; he heard the half-breed
+say. &quot;Go to the waterfall at the head of the lake and heave down a big
+rock where the ice is open and the water boiling. Track up the snow with
+a pair of M'seur Howland's high-heeled boots and leave his hat tangled
+in the bushes. Then tell the superintendent that he stepped on the stone
+and that it rolled down and toppled him into the chasm. They could never
+find his body--and they will send down for a new engineer in place of
+the lost M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Stupefied with horror, Howland strained his ears to catch the rest of
+the cold-blooded scheme which he was overhearing, but the voices grew
+lower and he understood no more that was said until Croisset, coming
+nearer, called out:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Help me with the M'seur before you go, Jackpine. He is a dead weight
+with all those rawhides about him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As coolly as though he were not more than a chunk of stovewood,
+Croisset and the Indian came through the bushes, seized him by the head
+and feet, carried him out into the trail and laid him lengthwise on
+the sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you have not caught cold lying in the snow, M'seur,&quot; said
+Croisset, bolstering up the engineer's head and shoulders and covering
+him with heavy furs. &quot;We should have been back sooner, but it was
+impossible. Hoo-la, Woonga!&quot; he called softly to his lead-dog. &quot;Get up
+there, you wolf-hound!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As the sledge started, with Croisset running close to the leader,
+Howland heard the low snapping of a whip behind him and another voice
+urging on other dogs. With an effort that almost dislocated his neck he
+twisted himself so he could look back of him. A hundred yards away he
+discerned a second team following in his trail; he saw a shadowy figure
+running at the head of the dogs, but what there was on the sledge, or
+what it meant, he could not see or surmise. Mile after mile the two
+sledges continued without a stop. Croisset did not turn his head; no
+word fell from his lips, except an occasional signal to the dogs. The
+trail had turned now straight into the North, and soon Howland could
+make out no sign of it, but knew only that they were twisting through
+the most open places in the forests, and that the play of the Polar
+lights was never over his left shoulder or his right, but always in
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>They had traveled for several hours when Croisset gave a sudden shrill
+shout to the rearmost sledge and halted his own. The dogs fell in a
+panting group on the snow, and while they were resting the half-breed
+relieved his prisoner of the soft buckskin that had been used as a gag.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will be perfectly safe for you to talk now, M'seur, and to shout as
+loudly as you please,&quot; he said. &quot;After I have looked into your pockets I
+will free your hands so that you can smoke. Are you comfortable?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Comfortable--be damned!&quot; were the first words that fell from Howland's
+lips, and his blood boiled at the sociable way in which Croisset
+grinned down into his face. &quot;So you're in it, too, eh?--and that
+lying girl--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The smile left Croisset's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean Meleese, M'seur Howland?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset leaned down with his black eyes gleaming like coals.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know what I would do if I was her, M'seur?&quot; he said in a low
+voice, and yet one filled with a threat which stilled the words of
+passion which the engineer was on the point of uttering. &quot;Do you know
+what I would do? I would kill you--kill you inch by inch--torture you.
+That is what I would do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For God's sake, Croisset, tell me why--why--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had found Howland's pistol and freed his hands, and the
+engineer stretched them out entreatingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would give my life for that girl, Croisset. I told her so back there,
+and she came to me when I was in the snow and--&quot; He caught himself,
+adding to what he had left incomplete. &quot;There is a mistake, Croisset. I
+am not the man they want to kill!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset was smiling at him again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Smoke--and think, M'seur. It is impossible for me to tell you why you
+should be dead--but you ought to know, unless your memory is shorter
+than a child's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the dogs, stirring them up with the cracking of his whip, and
+when Howland turned to look back he saw a bright flare of light where
+the other sledge had stopped. A man's voice came from the farther gloom,
+calling to Croisset in French.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He tells me I am to take you on alone,&quot; said Croisset, after he had
+replied to the words spoken in a patois which Howland could not
+understand. &quot;They will join us again very soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They!&quot; exclaimed Howland. &quot;How many will it take to kill me, my dear
+Croisset?&quot; The half-breed smiled down into his face again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may thank the Blessed Virgin that they are with us,&quot; he replied
+softly. &quot;If you have any hope outside of Heaven, M'seur, it is on that
+sledge behind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he went again to the dogs, straightening the leader in his traces,
+Howland stared back at the firelit space in the forest gloom. He could
+see a man adding fuel to the blaze, and beyond him, shrouded in the deep
+shadows of the trees, an indistinct tangle of dogs and sledge. As he
+strained his eyes to discover more there was a movement beyond the
+figure over the fire and the young engineer's heart leaped with a sudden
+thrill. Croisset's voice sounded in a shrill shout behind him, and at
+that warning cry in French the second figure sprang back into the gloom.
+But Howland had recognized it, and the chilled blood in his veins leaped
+into warm life again at the knowledge that it was Meleese who was
+trailing behind them on the second sledge! &quot;When you yell like that
+give me a little warning if you please, Jean,&quot; he said, speaking as
+coolly as though he had not recognized the figure that had come for an
+instant into the firelight. &quot;It is enough to startle the life out
+of one!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is our way of saying good-by, M'seur,&quot; replied Croisset with a
+fierce snap of his whip. &quot;Hoo-la, get along there!&quot; he cried to the
+dogs, and in half a dozen breaths the fire was lost to view.</p>
+
+<p>Dawn comes at about eight o'clock in the northern mid-winter; beyond the
+fiftieth degree the first ruddy haze of the sun begins to warm the
+southeastern skies at nine, and its glow had already risen above the
+forests before Croisset stopped his team again. For two hours he had not
+spoken a word to his prisoner and after several unavailing efforts to
+break the other's taciturnity Howland lapsed into a silence of his own.
+When he had brought his tired dogs to a halt, Croisset spoke for the
+first time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going to camp here for a few hours,&quot; he explained. &quot;If you will
+pledge me your word of honor that you will make no attempt to escape I
+will give you the use of your legs until after breakfast, M'seur. What
+do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you a Bible, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, M'seur, but I have the cross of our Virgin, given to me by the
+missioner at York Factory.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will swear by it--I will swear by all the crosses and all the
+Bibles in the world that I will make no effort to escape. I am
+paralyzed, Croisset! I couldn't run for a week!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset was searching in his pockets.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&quot; he cried excitedly, &quot;I have lost it! Ah, come to think,
+M'seur, I gave the cross to my Mariane before I went into the South, But
+I will take your word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who is Mariane, Jean? Will she also be in at the 'kill?'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mariane is my wife, M'seur. Ah, <i>ma belle</i> Mariane--<i>ma cheri</i>--the
+daughter of an Indian princess and the granddaughter of a <i>chef de
+bataillon</i>, M'seur! Could there be better than that? And she is
+be-e-e-utiful, M'seur, with hair like the top side of a raven's wing
+with the sun shining on it, and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You love her a great deal, Jean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next to the Virgin--and--it may be a little better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had severed the rope about the engineer's legs, and as he
+raised his glowing eyes Howland reached out and put both hands on his
+shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And in just that way I love Meleese,&quot; he said softly. &quot;Jean, won't you
+be my friend? I don't want to escape. I'm not a coward. Won't you think
+of what your Mariane might do, and be a friend to me? You would die for
+Mariane if it were necessary. And I would die for the girl back on
+that sledge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He had staggered to his feet, and pointed into the forests through which
+they had come.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I saw her in the firelight, Jean. Why is she following us? Why do they
+want to kill me? If you would only give me a chance to prove that it is
+all a mistake--that I--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset reached out and took his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I would like to help you,&quot; he interrupted. &quot;I liked you that
+night we came in together from the fight on the trail. I have liked you
+since. And yet, if I was in <i>their</i> place, I would kill you even though
+I like you. It is a great duty to kill you. They did not do wrong when
+they tied you in the coyote. They did not do wrong when they tried to
+kill you on the trail. But I have taken a solemn oath to tell you
+nothing; nothing beyond this--that so long as you are with me, and that
+sledge is behind us, your life is not in danger. I will tell you nothing
+more. Are you hungry, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Starved!&quot; said Howland.</p>
+
+<p>He stumbled a few steps out into the snow, the numbness in his limbs
+forcing him to catch at trees and saplings to save himself from falling.
+He was astonished at Croisset's words and more confused than ever at the
+half-breed's assurance that his life was no longer in immediate peril.
+To him this meant that Meleese had not only warned him but was now
+playing an active part in preserving his life, and this conclusion added
+to his perplexity. Who was this girl who a few hours before had
+deliberately lured him among his enemies and who was now fighting to
+save him? The question held a deeper significance for him than when he
+had asked himself this same thing at Prince Albert, and when Croisset
+called for him to return to the camp-fire and breakfast he touched once
+more the forbidden subject.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean, I don't want to hurt your feelings,&quot; he said, seating himself on
+the sledge, &quot;but I've got to get a few things out of my system. I
+believe this Meleese of yours is a bad woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Like a flash Croisset struck at the bait which Howland threw out to him.
+He leaned a little forward, a hand quivering on his knife, his eyes
+flashing fire. Involuntarily the engineer recoiled from that animal-like
+crouch, from the black rage which was growing each instant in the
+half-breed's face. Yet Croisset spoke softly and without excitement,
+even while his shoulders and arms were twitching like a forest cat about
+to spring.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, no one in the world must say that about my Mariane, and next to
+her they must not say it about Meleese. Up there--&quot; and he pointed still
+farther into the north--&quot;I know of a hundred men between the Athabasca
+and the bay who would kill you for what you have said. And it is not for
+Jean Croisset to listen to it here. I will kill you unless you take
+it back!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God!&quot; breathed Howland. He looked straight into Croisset's face. &quot;I'm
+glad--it's so--Jean,&quot; he added slowly. &quot;Don't you understand, man? I
+love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her, too, Jean. I
+said that to find out--what you would do--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It wasn't a joke,&quot; cried Howland. &quot;It was a serious effort to make you
+tell me something about Meleese. Listen, Jean--she told me back there
+that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and
+gagged in the snow she came to me and--and kissed me. I don't
+understand--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did she do that, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I swear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you are fortunate,&quot; smiled Jean softly, &quot;for I will stake my hope
+in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man,
+M'seur. But it will never happen again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe that it will--unless you kill me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to
+happen again. There are others who would kill you--knowing that it has
+happened but once. But you must stop this talk, M'seur. If you persist I
+shall put the rawhide over your mouth again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I object--fight?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have given me your word of honor. Up here in the big snows the
+keeping of that word is our first law. If you break it I will kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good Lord, but you're a cheerful companion,&quot; exclaimed Howland,
+laughing in spite of himself. &quot;Do you know, Croisset, this whole
+situation has a good deal of humor as well as tragedy about it. I must
+be a most important cuss, whoever I am. Ask me who I am, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And who are you, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know, Jean. Fact, I don't. I used to think that I was a most
+ambitious young cub in a big engineering establishment down in Chicago.
+But I guess I was dreaming. Funny dream, wasn't it? Thought I came up
+here to build a road somewhere through these infernal---no, I mean these
+beautiful snows--but my mind must have been wandering again. Ever hear
+of an insane asylum, Croisset? Am I in a big stone building with iron
+bars at the windows, and are you my keeper, just come in to amuse me for
+a time? It's kind of you, Croisset, and I hope that some day I shall get
+my mind back so that I can thank you decently. Perhaps you'll go mad
+some day, Jean, and dream about pretty girls, and railroads, and
+forests, and snows--and then I'll be your keeper. Have a cigar? I've got
+just two left.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&quot; gasped Jean. &quot;Yes, I will smoke, M'seur. Is that moose
+steak good?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fine. I haven't eaten a mouthful since years ago, when I dreamed that I
+sat on a case of dynamite just about to blow up. Did you ever sit on a
+case of dynamite just about to blow up, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, M'seur. It must be unpleasant.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how white it
+is--whiter than the snow!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset looked at him a little anxiously as he ate his meat, and at the
+gathering unrest in his ayes Howland burst into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't be frightened, Jean,&quot; he spoke soothingly. &quot;I'm harmless. But I
+promise you that I'll become violent unless something reasonable occurs
+pretty soon. Hello, are you going to start so soon?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right away, M'seur,&quot; said Croisset, who was stirring up the dogs. &quot;Will
+you walk and run, or ride?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Walk and run, with your permission.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have it, M'seur, but if you attempt to escape I must shoot you. Run
+on the right of the dogs--even with me. I will take this side.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Until Croisset stopped again in the middle of the afternoon Howland
+watched the backward trail for the appearance of the second sledge, but
+there was no sign of it. Once he ventured to bring up the subject to
+Croisset, who did no more than reply with a hunch of his shoulders and a
+quick look which warned the engineer to keep his silence. After their
+second meal the journey was resumed, and by referring occasionally to
+his compass Howland observed that the trail was swinging gradually to
+the eastward. Long before dusk exhaustion compelled him to ride once
+more on the sledge. Croisset seemed tireless, and under the early glow
+of the stars and the red moon he still led on the worn pack until at
+last it stopped on the summit of a mountainous ridge, with a vast plain
+stretching into the north as far as the eyes could see through the white
+gloom. The half-breed came back to where Howland was seated on
+the sledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are going but a little farther, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;I must replace
+the rawhide over your mouth and the thongs about your wrists. I am
+sorry--but I will leave your legs free.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Howland. &quot;But, really, it is unnecessary, Croisset. I am
+properly subdued to the fact that fate is determined to play out this
+interesting game of ball with me, and no longer knowing where I am, I
+promise you to do nothing more exciting than smoke my pipe if you will
+allow me to go along peaceably at your side.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not attempt to escape--and you will hold your tongue?&quot; he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bear in mind, M'seur, that I will kill you if you break your word. You
+may go ahead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And he pointed down the side of the mountain.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE HOUSE OF THE RED DEATH</h3>
+
+<p>Half-way down the ridge a low word from Croisset stopped the engineer.
+Jean had toggled his team with a stout length of babeesh on the mountain
+top and he was looking back when Howland turned toward him. The sharp
+edge of that part of the mountain from which they were descending stood
+out in a clear-cut line against the sky, and on this edge the six dogs
+of the team sat squat on their haunches, silent and motionless, like
+strangely carved gargoyles placed there to guard the limitless plains
+below. Howland took his pipe from his mouth as he watched the staring
+interest of Croisset. From the man he looked up again at the dogs. There
+was something in their sphynx-like attitude, in the moveless reaching of
+their muzzles out into the wonderful starlit mystery of the still night
+that filled him with an indefinable sense of awe. Then there came to his
+ears the sound that had stopped Croisset--a low, moaning whine which
+seemed to have neither beginning nor end, but which was borne in on his
+senses as though it were a part of the soft movement of the air he
+breathed--a note of infinite sadness which held him startled and without
+movement, as it held Jean Croisset. And just as he thought that the
+thing had died away, the wailing came again, rising higher and higher,
+until at last there rose over him a single long howl that chilled the
+blood to his very marrow. It was like the wolf-howl of that first night
+he had looked on the wilderness, and yet unlike it; in the first it had
+been the cry of the savage, of hunger, of the unending desolation of
+life that had thrilled him. In this it was death. He stood shivering as
+Croisset came down to him, his thin face shining white in the starlight.
+There was no other sound save the excited beating of life in their own
+bodies when Jean spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, our dogs howl like that only when some one is dead or about to
+die,&quot; he whispered. &quot;It was Woonga who gave the cry. He has lived for
+eleven years and I have never known him to fail.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must tie your hands, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I have given you my word, Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your hands, M'seur. There is already death below us in the plain, or it
+is to come very soon. I must tie your hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong
+of babeesh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe I understand,&quot; he spoke softly, listening again for the
+chilling wail from the mountain top. &quot;You are afraid that I will
+kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a warning, M'seur. You might try. But I should probably kill you.
+As it is--&quot; he shrugged his shoulders as he led the way down the
+ridge--&quot;as it is, there is small chance of Jean Croisset answering
+the call.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May those saints of yours preserve me, Jean, but this is all very
+cheerful!&quot; grunted Howland, half laughing in spite of himself. &quot;Now that
+I'm tied up again, who the devil is there to die--but me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a hard question, M'seur,&quot; replied the half-breed with grim
+seriousness. &quot;Perhaps it is your turn. I half believe that it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when there came again the
+moaning howl from the top of the ridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You're getting on my nerves, Jean--you and that accursed dog!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Silence, M'seur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Out of the grim loneliness at the foot of the mountain there loomed a
+shadow which at first Howland took to be a huge mass of rock. A few
+steps farther and he saw that it was a building. Croisset gripped him
+firmly by the arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stay here,&quot; he commanded. &quot;I will return soon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a quarter of an hour Howland waited. Twice in that interval the dog
+howled above him. He was glad when Croisset appeared out of the gloom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is as I thought, M'seur. There is death down here. Come with me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The shadow of the big building shrouded them as they approached. Howland
+could make out that it was built of massive logs and that there seemed
+to be neither door nor window on their side. And yet when Jean hesitated
+for an instant before a blotch of gloom that was deeper than the others,
+he knew that they had come to an entrance. Croisset advanced softly,
+sniffing the air suspiciously with his thin nostrils, and listening,
+with Howland so close to him that their shoulders touched. From the top
+of the mountain there came again the mournful death-song of old Woonga,
+and Jean shivered. Howland stared into the blotch of gloom, and still
+staring he followed Croisset--entered--and disappeared in it. About them
+was the stillness and the damp smell of desertion. There was no visible
+sign of life, no breathing, no movement but their own, and yet Howland
+could feel the half-breed's hand clutch him nervously by the arm as they
+went step by step into the black and silent mystery of the place. Soon
+there came a fumbling of Croisset's hand at a latch and they passed
+through a second door. Then Jean struck a match.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen steps away was a table and on the table a lamp. Croisset
+lighted it, and with a quiet laugh faced the engineer. They were in a
+low, dungeon-like chamber, without a window and with but the one door
+through which they had entered. The table, two chairs, a stove and a
+bunk built against one of the log walls were all that Howland could see.
+But it was not the barrenness of what he imagined was to be his new
+prison that held his eyes in staring inquiry on Croisset. It was the
+look in his companion's face, the yellow pallor of fear--a horror--that
+had taken possession of it. The half-breed closed and bolted the door,
+and then sat down beside the table, his thin face peering up through the
+sickly lamp-glow at the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, it would be hard for you to guess where you are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland waited.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you had lived in this country long, M'seur, you would have heard of
+<i>la Maison de Mort Rouge</i>--the House of the Red Death, as you would call
+it. That is where we are--in the dungeon room. It is a Hudson Bay post,
+abandoned almost since I can remember. When I was a child the smallpox
+plague came this way and killed all the people. Nineteen years ago the
+red plague came again, and not one lived through it in this <i>Poste de
+Mort Rouge.</i> Since then it has been left to the weasels and the owls. It
+is shunned by every living soul between the Athabasca and the bay. That
+is why you are safe here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ye gods!&quot; breathed Howland. &quot;Is there anything more, Croisset? Safe
+from what, man? Safe from what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;From those who wish to kill you, M'seur. You would not go into the
+South, so <i>la belle</i> Meleese has compelled you to go into the North,
+<i>Comprenez-vous?</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland sat as if stunned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you understand, M'seur?&quot; persisted Croisset, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I--I--think I do,&quot; replied Howland tensely. &quot;You mean--Meleese--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean took the words from him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I mean that you would have died last night, M'seur, had it not been for
+Meleese. You escaped from the coyote--but you would not have escaped
+from the other. That is all I can tell you. But you will be safe here.
+Those who seek your life will soon believe that you are dead, and then
+we will let you go back. Is that not a kind fate for one who deserves to
+be cut into bits and fed to the ravens?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will tell me nothing more, Jean?&quot; the engineer asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--except that while I would like to kill you I have sympathy for
+you. That, perhaps, is because I once lived in the South. For six years
+I was with the company in Montreal, where I went to school.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, tying the flap of his caribou skin coat about his
+throat. Then he unbolted and opened the door. Faintly there came to
+them, as if from a great distance, the wailing grief of Woonga, the dog.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You said there was death here,&quot; whispered Howland, leaning close to his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is one who has lived here since the last plague,&quot; replied
+Croisset under his breath. &quot;He lost his wife and children and it drove
+him mad. That is why we came down so quietly. He lived in a little cabin
+out there on the edge of the clearing, and when I went to it to-night
+there was a sapling over the house with a flag at the end of it. When
+the plague comes to us we hang out a red flag as a warning to others.
+That is one of our laws. The flag is blown to tatters by the winds.
+He is dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of the smallpox?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a few moments they stood in silence. Then Croisset added, &quot;You will
+remain here, M'seur, until I return.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went out, closing and barring the door from the other side, and
+Howland seated himself again in the chair beside the table. Fifteen
+minutes later the half-breed returned, bearing with him a good-sized
+pack and a two-gallon jug.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is wood back of the stove, M'seur. Here is food and water for a
+week, and furs for your bed. Now I will cut those thongs about
+your wrists.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean to say you're going to leave me here alone--in this
+wretched prison?&quot; cried Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, is it not better than a grave, M'seur? I will be back at
+the end of a week.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The door was partly open and for the last time there came to Howland's
+ears the mourning howl of the old dog on the mountain top. Almost
+threateningly he gripped Croisset's arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean--if you don't come back--what will happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He heard the half-breed chuckling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will die, M'seur, pleasantly and taking your own time at it, which
+is much better than dying over a case of dynamite. But I will come back,
+M'seur. Good-by!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again the door was closed and bolted and the sound of Croisset's
+footsteps quickly died away beyond the log walls. Many minutes passed
+before Howland thought of his pipe, or a fire. Then, shiveringly, he
+went to seek the fuel which Jean had told him was behind the stove. The
+old bay stove was soon roaring with the fire which he built, and as the
+soothing fumes of his pipe impregnated the damp air of the room he
+experienced a sensation of comfort which was in strange contrast to the
+exciting happenings of the past few days.</p>
+
+<p>At last he was alone, with nothing to do for a week but eat, sleep and
+smoke. He had plenty of tobacco and an inspection of the pack showed
+that Croisset had left him well stocked with food. Tilted back in a
+chair, with his feet on the table, he absorbed the cheerful heat from
+the stove, sent up clouds of smoke, and wondered if the half-breed had
+already started back into the South. What would MacDonald say when
+Jackpine came in with the report that he had slipped to his death in the
+waterfall? Probably his first move would be to send the most powerful
+team on the Wekusko in pursuit of Gregson and Thorne. The departing
+engineers would be compelled to return, and then--</p>
+
+<p>He laughed aloud and began pacing back and forth across the rotted floor
+of his prison as he pictured the consternation of the two seniors. And
+then a flush burned in his face and his eyes glowed as he thought of
+Meleese. In spite of himself she had saved him from his enemies, and he
+blessed Croisset for having told him the meaning of this flight into the
+North. Once again she had betrayed him, but this time it was to save his
+life, and his heart leaped in joyous faith at this proof of her love
+for him. He believed that he understood the whole scheme now. Even his
+enemies would think him dead. They would leave the Wekusko and after a
+time, when it was safe for him to return, he would be given his freedom.</p>
+
+<p>With the passing of the hours gloomier thoughts shadowed these
+anticipations. In some mysterious way Meleese was closely associated
+with those who sought his life, and if they disappeared she would
+disappear with them. He was convinced of that. And then--could he find
+her again? Would she go into the South--to civilization--or deeper into
+the untraveled wildernesses of the North? In answer to his question
+there flashed through his mind the words of Jean Croisset: &quot;M'seur, I
+know of a hundred men between Athabasca and the bay who would kill you
+for what you have said.&quot; Yes, she would go into the North. Somewhere in
+that vast desolation of which Jean had spoken he would find her, even
+though he spent half of his life in the search!</p>
+
+<p>It was past midnight when he spread out the furs and undressed for bed.
+He opened the stove door and from the bunk watched the faint flickerings
+of the dying firelight on the log walls. As slumber closed his eyes he
+was conscious of a sound--the faint, hungerful, wailing cry to which he
+had listened that first night near Prince Albert. It was a wolf, and
+drowsily he wondered how he could hear the cry through the thick log
+walls of his prison. The answer came to him the moment he opened his
+eyes, hours later. A bit of pale sunlight was falling into the room and
+he saw that it entered through a narrow aperture close up to the
+ceiling. After he had prepared his breakfast he dragged the table under
+this aperture and by standing on it was enabled to peer through. A
+hundred yards away was the black edge of the spruce and balsam forest.
+Between him and the forest, half smothered in the deep snow, was a
+cabin, and he shuddered as he saw floating over it the little red signal
+of death of which Croisset had told him the night before.</p>
+
+<p>With the breaking of this day the hours seemed of interminable length.
+For a time he amused himself by searching every corner and crevice of
+his prison room, but he found nothing of interest beyond what he had
+already discovered. He examined the door which Croisset had barred on
+him, and gave up all hope of escape in that direction. He could barely
+thrust his arm through the aperture that opened out on the
+plague-stricken cabin. For the first time since the stirring beginning
+of his adventures at Prince Albert a sickening sense of his own
+impotency began to weigh on Howland. He was a prisoner--penned up in a
+desolate room in the heart of a wilderness. And he, Jack Howland, a man
+who had always taken pride in his physical prowess, had allowed one man
+to place him there.</p>
+
+<p>His blood began to boil as he thought of it. Now, as he had time and
+silence in which to look back on what had happened, he was enraged at
+the pictures that flashed one after another before him. He had allowed
+himself to be used as nothing more than a pawn in a strange and
+mysterious game. It was not through his efforts alone that he had been
+saved in the fight on the Saskatchewan trail. Blindly he had walked into
+the trap at the coyote. Still more blindly he had allowed himself to be
+led into the ambush at the Wekusko camp. And more like a child than a
+man he had submitted himself to Jean Croisset!</p>
+
+<p>He stamped back and forth across the room, smoking viciously, and his
+face grew red with the thoughts that were stirring venom within him. He
+placed no weight on circumstances; in these moments he found no excuse
+for himself. In no situation had he displayed the white feather, at no
+time had he felt a thrill of fear. His courage and recklessness had
+terrified Meleese, had astonished Croisset. And yet--what had he done?
+From the beginning--from the moment he first placed his foot in the
+Chinese cafe--his enemies had held the whip-hand. He had been compelled
+to play a passive part. Up to the point of the ambush on the Wekusko
+trail he might have found some vindication for himself. But this
+experience with Jean Croisset--it was enough to madden him, now that he
+was alone, to think about it. Why had <i>he</i> not taken advantage of Jean,
+as Jackpine and the Frenchman had taken advantage of him?</p>
+
+<p>He saw now what he might have done. Somewhere, not very far back, the
+sledge carrying Meleese and Jackpine had turned into the unknown. They
+two were alone. Why had he not made Croisset a prisoner, instead of
+allowing himself to be caged up like a weakling? He swore aloud as there
+dawned on him more and more a realization of the opportunity he had
+lost. At the point of a gun he could have forced Croisset to overtake
+the other sledge. He could have surprised Jackpine, as they had
+surprised him on the trail. And then? He smiled, but there was no humor
+in the smile. He at least would have held the whip-hand. And what would
+Meleese have done?</p>
+
+<p>He asked himself question after question, answering them quickly and
+decisively in the same breath. Meleese loved him. He would have staked
+his life on that. His blood leaped as he felt again the thrill of her
+kisses when she had come to him as he lay bound and gagged beside the
+trail. She had taken his head in her arms, and through the grief of her
+face he had seen shining the light of a great love that had glorified it
+for all time for him. She loved him! And he had let her slip away from
+him, had weakly surrendered himself at a moment when everything that he
+had dreamed of might have been within his grasp. With Jackpine and
+Croisset in his power--</p>
+
+<p>He went no further. Was it too late to do these things now? Croisset
+would return. With a sort of satisfaction it occurred to him that his
+actions had disarmed the Frenchman of suspicion. He believed that it
+would be easy to overcome Croisset, to force him to follow in the trail
+of Meleese and Jackpine. And that trail? It would probably lead to the
+very stronghold of his enemies. But what of that? He loaded his pipe
+again, puffing out clouds of smoke until the room was thick with it.
+That trail would take him to Meleese--wherever she was. Heretofore his
+enemies had come to him; now he would go to them. With Croisset in his
+power, and with none of his enemies aware of his presence, everything
+would be in his favor. He laughed aloud as a sudden thrilling thought
+flashed into his mind. As a last resort he would use Jean as a decoy.</p>
+
+<p>He foresaw how easy it would be to bring Meleese to him--to see
+Croisset. His own presence would be like the dropping of a bomb at her
+feet. In that moment, when she saw what he was risking for her, that he
+was determined to possess her, would she not surrender to the pleading
+of his love? If not he would do the other thing--that which had brought
+the joyous laugh to his lips. All was fair in war and love, and theirs
+was a game of love. Because of her love for him Meleese had kidnapped
+him from his post of duty, had sent him a prisoner to this death-house
+in the wilderness. Love had exculpated her. That same love would
+exculpate him. He would make her a prisoner, and Jean should drive them
+back to the Wekusko. Meleese herself had set the pace and he would
+follow it. And what woman, if she loved a man, would not surrender after
+this? In their sledge trip he would have her to himself, for not only an
+hour or two, but for days. Surely in that time he could win. There would
+be pursuit, perhaps; he might have to fight--but he was willing, and a
+trifle anxious, to fight.</p>
+
+<p>He went to bed that night, and dreamed of things that were to happen. A
+second day, a third night, and a third day came. With each hour grew his
+anxiety for Jean's return. At times he was almost feverish to have the
+affair over with. He was confident of the outcome, and yet he did not
+fail to take the Frenchman's true measurement. He knew that Jean was
+like live wire and steel, as agile as a cat, more than a match with
+himself in open fight despite his own superior weight and size. He
+devised a dozen schemes for Jean's undoing. One was to leap on him
+while he was eating; another to spring on him and choke him into partial
+insensibility as he knelt beside his pack or fed the fire; a third to
+strike a blow from behind that would render him powerless. But there was
+something in this last that was repugnant to him. He remembered that
+Jean had saved his life, that in no instance had he given him physical
+pain. He would watch for an opportunity, take advantage of the
+Frenchman, as Croisset had taken advantage of him, but he would not hurt
+him seriously. It should be as fair a struggle as Jean had offered him,
+and with the handicap in his favor the best man would win.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of the fourth day Howland was awakened by a sound that
+came through the aperture in the wall. It was the sharp yelping bark of
+a dog, followed an instant later by the sharper crack of a whip, and a
+familiar voice.</p>
+
+<p>Jean Croisset had returned!</p>
+
+<p>With a single leap he was out of his bunk. Half dressed he darted to
+the door, and crouched there, the muscles of his arms tightening, his
+body tense with the gathering forces within him.</p>
+
+<p>The spur of the moment had driven him to quick decision. His opportunity
+would come when Jean Croisset passed through that door!</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE FIGHT</h3>
+
+<p>Beyond the door Howland heard Jean pause. There followed a few moments
+silence, as though the other were listening for sound within. Then there
+came a fumbling at the bar and the door swung inward.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Bon jour</i>, M'seur,&quot; called Jean's cheerful voice as he stepped inside.
+&quot;Is it possible you are not up, with all this dog-barking and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes had gone to the empty bunk. Despite his cheerful greeting
+Howland saw that the Frenchman's face was haggard and pale as he turned
+quickly toward him. He observed no further than that, but flung his
+whole weight on the unprepared Croisset, and together they crashed to
+the floor. There was scarce a struggle and Jean lay still. He was flat
+on his back, his arms pinioned to his sides, and bringing himself
+astride the Frenchman's body so that each knee imprisoned an arm Howland
+coolly began looping the babeesh thongs that he had snatched from the
+table as he sprang to the door. Behind Howland's back Jean's legs shot
+suddenly upward. In a quick choking clutch of steel-like muscle they
+gripped about his neck like powerful arms and in another instant he was
+twisted backward with a force that sent him half neck-broken to the
+opposite wall. He staggered to his feet, dazed for a moment, and Jean
+Croisset stood in the middle of the floor, his caribou skin coat thrown
+off, his hands clenched, his eyes darkening with a dangerous fire. As
+quickly as it had come, the fire died away, and as he advanced slowly,
+his shoulders punched over, his white teeth gleamed in a smile. Howland
+smiled back, and advanced to meet him. There was no humor, no
+friendliness in the smiles. Both had seen that flash of teeth and deadly
+scintillation of eyes at other times, both knew what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe that I will kill you, M'seur,&quot; said Jean softly. There was
+no excitement, no tremble of passion in his voice. &quot;I have been thinking
+that I ought to kill you. I had almost made up my mind to kill you when
+I came back to this <i>Maison de Mort Rouge</i>. It is the justice of God
+that I kill you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two men circled, like beasts in a pit, Howland in the attitude of a
+boxer, Jean with his shoulders bent, his arms slightly curved at his
+side, the toes of his moccasined feet bearing his weight. Suddenly he
+launched himself at the other's throat.</p>
+
+<p>In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing
+blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his
+back. Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet. It was the first time that
+he had ever come into contact with science. He was puzzled. His head
+rang, and for a few moments he was dizzy. He darted in again, in his
+old, quick, cat-like way, and received a blow that dazed him. This time
+he kept his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure now that I am going to kill you, M'seur,&quot; he said, as coolly
+as before.</p>
+
+<p>There was something terribly calm and decisive in his voice. He was not
+excited. He was not afraid. His fingers did not go near the weapons in
+his belt, and slowly the smile faded from Howland's lips as Jean circled
+about him. He had never fought a man of this kind; never had he looked
+on the appalling confidence that was in his antagonist's eyes. From
+those eyes, rather than from the man, he found himself slowly
+retreating. They followed him, never taking themselves from his face. In
+them the fire returned and grew deeper. Two dull red spots began to glow
+in Croisset's cheeks, and he laughed softly when he suddenly leaped in
+so that Howland struck at him--and missed. He knew what to expect now.
+And Howland knew what to expect.</p>
+
+<p>It was the science of one world pitted against that of another--the
+science of civilization against that of the wilderness. Howland was
+trained in his art. For sport Jean had played with wounded lynx; his was
+the quickness of sight, of instinct--the quickness of the great north
+loon that had often played this same game with his rifle-fire, of the
+sledge-dog whose ripping fangs carried death so quickly that eyes could
+not follow. A third and a fourth time he came within distance and
+Howland struck and missed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to kill you,&quot; he said again.</p>
+
+<p>To this point Howland had remained cool. Self-possession in his science
+he knew to be half the battle. But he felt in him now a slow, swelling
+anger. The smiling flash in Jean's eyes began to irritate him; the
+fearless, taunting gleam of his teeth, his audacious confidence, put him
+on edge. Twice again he struck out swiftly, but Jean had come and gone
+like a dart. His lithe body, fifty pounds lighter than Howland's, seemed
+to be that of a boy dodging him in some tantalizing sport. The Frenchman
+made no effort at attack; his were the tactics of the wolf at the heels
+of the bull moose, of the lynx before the prongs of a cornered
+buck--tiring, worrying, ceaseless.</p>
+
+<p>Howland's striking muscles began to ache and his breath was growing
+shorter with the exertions which seemed to have no effect on Croisset.
+For a few moments he took the aggressive, rushing Jean to the stove,
+behind the table, twice around the room--striving vainly to drive him
+into a corner, to reach him with one of the sweeping blows which
+Croisset evaded with the lightning quickness of a hell-diver. When he
+stopped, his breath came in wind-broken gasps. Jean drew nearer,
+smiling, ferociously cool.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to kill you, M'seur,&quot; he repeated again.</p>
+
+<p>Howland dropped his arms, his fingers relaxed, and he forced his breath
+between his lips as if he were on the point of exhaustion. There were
+still a few tricks in his science, and these, he knew, were about his
+last cards. He backed into a corner, and Jean followed, his eyes
+flashing a steely light, his body growing more and more tense.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, M'seur, I am going to kill you,&quot; he said in the same low voice. &quot;I
+am going to break your neck.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland backed against the wall, partly turned as if fearing the other's
+attack, and yet without strength to repel it. There was a contemptuous
+smile on Croisset's lips as he poised himself for an instant. Then he
+leaped in, and as his fingers gripped at the other's throat Howland's
+right arm shot upward in a deadly short-arm punch that caught his
+antagonist under the jaw. Without a sound Jean staggered back, tottered
+for a moment on his feet, and fell to the floor. Fifty seconds later he
+opened his eyes to find his hands bound behind his back and Howland
+standing at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but that was a good one!&quot; he gasped, after he had taken a
+long breath or two. &quot;Will you teach it to me, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get up!&quot; commanded Howland. &quot;I have no time to waste, Croisset.&quot; He
+caught the Frenchman by the shoulders and helped him to a chair near the
+table. Then he took possession of the other's weapons, including the
+revolver which Jean had taken from him, and began to dress. He spoke no
+word until he was done.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you understand what is going to happen Croisset?&quot; he cried then, his
+eyes blazing hotly. &quot;Do you understand that what you have done will put
+you behind prison bars for ten years or more? Does it dawn on you that
+I'm going to take you back to the authorities, and that as soon as we
+reach the Wekusko I'll have twenty men back on the trail of these
+friends of yours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A gray pallor spread itself over Jean's thin face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great God, M'seur, you can not do that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Can not!</i>&quot; Howland's fingers dug into the edge of the table. &quot;By this
+great God of yours, Croisset, but I will! And why not? Is it because
+Meleese is among this gang of cut-throats and murderers? Pish, my dear
+Jean, you must be a fool. They tried to kill me on the trail, tried it
+again in the coyote, and you came back here determined to kill me.
+You've held the whip-hand from the first. Now it's mine. I swear that if
+I take you back to the Wekusko we'll get you all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>If</i>, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes--<i>if</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that 'if'--&quot; Jean was straining against the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It rests with you, Croisset. I will bargain with you. Either I shall
+take you back to the Wekusko, hand you over to the authorities and send
+a force after the others--or you shall take me to Meleese. Which
+shall it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I take you to Meleese, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland straightened, his voice trembling a little with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you take me to Meleese, and swear to do as I say, I shall bring no
+harm to you or your friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Meleese--&quot; Jean's eyes darkened again, &quot;You will not harm her,
+M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Harm <i>her</i>!&quot; There was a laughing tremor in Howland's voice. &quot;Good God,
+man, are you so blind that you can't see that I am doing this because of
+her? I tell you that I love her, and that I am willing to die in
+fighting for her. Until now I haven't had the chance. You and your
+friends have played a cowardly underhand game, Croisset. You have taken
+me from behind at every move, and now it's up to you to square yourself
+a little or there's going to be hell to pay. Understand? You take me to
+Meleese or there'll be a clean-up that will put you and the whole bunch
+out of business. <i>Harm her</i>--&quot; Again Howland laughed, leaning his white
+face toward Jean. &quot;Come, which shall it be, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A cold glitter, like the snap of sparks from striking steels, shot from
+the Frenchman's eyes. The grayish pallor went from his face. His teeth
+gleamed in the enigmatic smile that had half undone Howland in
+the fight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are mistaken in some things, M'seur,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;Until
+to-day I have fought for you and not against you. But now you have left
+me but one choice. I will take you to Meleese, and that means--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good!&quot; cried Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;La, la, M'seur--not so good as you think. It means that as surely as
+the dogs carry us there you will never come back. <i>Mon Dieu,</i> your death
+is certain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned briskly to the stove.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hungry, Jean?&quot; he asked more companionably. &quot;Let's not quarrel, man.
+You've had your fun, and now I'm going to have mine. Have you had
+breakfast?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur,&quot; replied Jean with
+grim humor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then--after I had fed you--you were going to kill me, my dear
+Jean,&quot; laughed Howland, flopping a huge caribou steak on the naked top
+of the sheet-iron stove. &quot;Real nice fellow you are, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You ought to be killed, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So you've said before. When I see Meleese I'm going to know the reason
+why, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Or what, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kill you, Jean. I've just about made up my mind that you ought to be
+killed. If any one dies up where we're going, Croisset, it will be you
+first of all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean remained silent. A few minutes later Howland brought the caribou
+steak, a dish of flour cakes and a big pot of coffee to the table. Then
+he went behind Jean and untied his hands. When he sat down at his own
+side of the table he cocked his revolver and placed it beside his tin
+plate. Jean grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It means business,&quot; said his captor warningly. &quot;If at any time I think
+you deserve it I shall shoot you in your tracks, Croisset, so don't
+arouse my suspicions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I took your word of honor,&quot; said Jean sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I will take yours to an extent,&quot; replied Howland, pouring the
+coffee. Suddenly he picked up the revolver. &quot;You never saw me shoot, did
+you? See that cup over there?&quot; He pointed to a small tin pack-cup
+hanging to a nail on the wall a dozen paces from them. Three times
+without missing he drove bullets through it, and smiled across
+at Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am going to give you the use of your arms and legs, except at night,&quot;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, it is safe,&quot; grunted Jean. &quot;I give you my word that I will
+be good, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sun was up when Croisset led the way outside. His dogs and sledge
+were a hundred yards from the building, and Howland's first move was to
+take possession of the Frenchman's rifle and eject the cartridges while
+Jean tossed chunks of caribou flesh to the huskies. When they were ready
+to start Jean turned slowly and half reached out a mittened hand to
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur,&quot; he said softly, &quot;I can not help liking you, though I know that
+I should have killed you long ago. I tell you again that if you go into
+the North there is only one chance in a hundred that you will come back
+alive. Great God, M'seur, up where you wish to go the very trees will
+fall on you and the carrion ravens pick, out your eyes! And that
+chance--that one chance in a hundred, M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will take,&quot; interrupted Howland decisively.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was going to say, M'seur,&quot; finished Jean quietly, &quot;that unless
+accident has befallen those who left Wekusko yesterday that one chance
+is gone. If you go South you are safe. If you go into the North you are
+no better than a dead man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will at least be a little fun at the finish,&quot; laughed the young
+engineer. &quot;Come, Jean, hit up the dogs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I say you are a fool--and a brave man,&quot; said Croisset, and
+his whip twisted sinuously in mid-air and cracked in sharp command over
+the yellow backs of the huskies.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE PURSUIT</h3>
+
+<p>Behind the sledge ran Howland, to the right of the team ran Jean. Once
+or twice when Croisset glanced back his eyes met those of the engineer.
+He cracked his whip and smiled, and Howland's teeth gleamed back coldly
+in reply. A mutual understanding flashed between them in these glances.
+In a sudden spurt Howland knew that the Frenchman could quickly put
+distance between them--but not a distance that his bullets could not
+cover in the space of a breath. He had made up his mind to fire,
+deliberately and with his greatest skill, if Croisset made the slightest
+movement toward escape. If he was compelled to kill or wound his
+companion he could still go on alone with the dogs, for the trail of
+Meleese and Jackpine would be as plain as their own, which they were
+following back into the South.</p>
+
+<p>For the second time since coming into the North he felt the blood
+leaping through his veins as on that first night in Prince Albert when
+from the mountain he had heard the lone wolf, and when later he had seen
+the beautiful face through the hotel window. Howland was one of the few
+men who possess unbounded confidence in themselves, who place a certain
+pride in their physical as well as their mental capabilities, and he was
+confident now. His successful and indomitable fight over obstacles in a
+big city had made this confidence a genuine part of his being. It was a
+confidence that flushed his face with joyous enthusiasm as he ran after
+the dogs, and that astonished and puzzled Jean Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but you are a strange man!&quot; exclaimed the Frenchman when he
+brought the dogs down to a walk after a half mile run. &quot;Blessed saints,
+M'seur, you are laughing--and I swear it is no laughing matter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shouldn't a man be happy when he is going to his wedding, Jean?&quot;
+puffed Howland, gasping to get back the breath he had lost.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But not when he's going to his funeral, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I were one of your blessed saints I'd hit you over the head with a
+thunderbolt, Croisset. Good Lord, what sort of a heart have you got
+inside of your jacket, man? Up there where we're going is the sweetest
+little girl in the whole world. I love her. She loves me. Why shouldn't
+I be happy, now that I know I'm going to see her again very soon--and
+take her back into the South with me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil!&quot; grunted Jean.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you're jealous, Croisset,&quot; suggested Howland. &quot;Great Scott, I
+hadn't thought of <i>that!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've got one of my own to love, M'seur; and I wouldn't trade her for
+all else in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Damned if I can understand you,&quot; swore the engineer. &quot;You appear to be
+half human; you say you're in love, and yet you'd rather risk your life
+than help out Meleese and me. What the deuce does it mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's what I'm doing, M'seur--helping Meleese. I would have done her a
+greater service if I had killed you back there on the trail and stripped
+your body for those things that would be foul enough to eat it. I have
+told you a dozen times that it is God's justice that you die. And you
+are going to die--very soon, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I'm not going to die, Jean. I'm going to see Meleese, and she's
+going back into the South with me. And if you're real good you may have
+the pleasure of driving us back to the Wekusko, Croisset, and you can be
+my best man at the wedding. What do you say to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That you are mad--or a fool,&quot; retorted Jean, cracking his whip
+viciously.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs swung sharply from the trail, heading from their southerly
+course into the northwest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will save a day by doing this,&quot; explained Croisset at the other's
+sharp word of inquiry. &quot;We will hit the other trail twenty miles west of
+here, while by following back to where they turned we would travel sixty
+miles to reach the same point. That one chance in a hundred which you
+have depends on this, M'seur. If the other sledge has passed--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged his shoulders and started the dogs into a trot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look here,&quot; cried Howland, running beside him. &quot;Who is with this other
+sledge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those who tried to kill you on the trail and at the coyote, M'seur,&quot; he
+answered quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Howland fell half a dozen paces behind. By the end of the first hour he
+was compelled to rest frequently by taking to the sledge, and their
+progress was much slower. Jean no longer made answer to his occasional
+questions. Doggedly he swung on ahead to the right and a little behind
+the team leader, and Howland could see that for some reason Croisset was
+as anxious as himself to make the best time possible. His own
+impatience increased as the morning lengthened. Jean's assurance that
+the mysterious enemies who had twice attempted his life were only a
+short distance behind them, or a short distance ahead, set a new and
+desperate idea at work in his brain. He was confident that these men
+from the Wekusko were his chief menace, and that with them once out of
+the way, and with the Frenchman in his power, the fight which he was
+carrying into the enemy's country would be half won. There would then be
+no one to recognize him but Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>His heart leaped with joyous hope, and he leaned forward on the sledge
+to examine Croisset's empty gun. It was an automatic, and Croisset,
+glancing back over the loping backs of the huskies, caught him smiling.
+He ran more frequently now, and longer distances, and with the passing
+of each mile his determination to strike a decisive blow increased. If
+they reached the trail of Meleese and Jackpine before the crossing of
+the second sledge he would lay in wait for his old enemies; if they had
+preceded them he would pursue and surprise them in camp. In either case
+he would possess an overwhelming advantage.</p>
+
+<p>With the same calculating attention to detail that he would have shown
+in the arrangement of plans for the building of a tunnel or a bridge, he
+drew a mental map of his scheme and its possibilities. There would be at
+least two men with the sledge, and possibly three. If they surrendered
+at the point of his rifle without a fight he would compel Jean to tie
+them up with dog-traces while he held them under cover. If they made a
+move to offer resistance he would shoot. With the automatic he could
+kill or wound the three before they could reach their rifles, which
+would undoubtedly be on the sledge. The situation had now reached a
+point where he no longer took into consideration what these men might be
+to Meleese.</p>
+
+<p>As they continued into the northwest Howland noted that the thicker
+forest was gradually clearing into wide areas of small banskian pine,
+and that the rock ridges and dense swamps which had impeded their
+progress were becoming less numerous. An hour before noon, after a
+tedious climb to the top of a frozen ridge, Croisset pointed down into a
+vast level plain lying between them and other great ridges far to
+the north.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a bit of the Barren Lands that creeps down between those
+mountains off there, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;Do you see that black forest
+that looks like a charred log in the snow to the south and west of the
+mountains? That is the break that leads into the country of the
+Athabasca. Somewhere between this point and that we will strike the
+trail. Mon Dieu, I had half expected to see them out there on
+the plain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who? Meleese and Jackpine, or--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, the others, M'seur. Shall we have dinner here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not until we hit the trail,&quot; replied Howland. &quot;I'm anxious to know
+about that one chance in a hundred you've given me hope of, Croisset. If
+they have passed--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If they are ahead of us you might just as well stand out there and let
+me put a bullet through you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the head of the dogs, guiding them down the rough side of the
+ridge, while Howland steadied the toboggan from behind. For
+three-quarters of an hour they traversed the low bush of the plain in
+silence. From every rising snow hummock Jean scanned the white
+desolation about them, and each time, as nothing that was human came
+within his vision, he turned toward the engineer with a sinister shrug
+of his shoulders. Once three moving caribou, a mile or more away,
+brought a quick cry to his lips and Howland noticed that a sudden flush
+of excitement came into his face, replaced in the next instant by a look
+of disappointment. After this he maintained a more careful guard over
+the Frenchman. They had covered less than half of the distance to the
+caribou trail when in a small open space free of bush Croisset's voice
+rose sharply and the team stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you think of it, M'seur?&quot; he cried, pointing to the snow.
+&quot;What do you think of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Barely cutting into the edge of the open was the broken crust of two
+sledge trails. For a moment Howland forgot his caution and bent over to
+examine the trails, with his back to his companion. When he looked up
+there was a curious laughing gleam in Jean's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but you are careless!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;Be more careful,
+M'seur. I may give myself up to another temptation like that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The deuce you say!&quot; cried Howland, springing back quickly. &quot;I'm much
+obliged, Jean. If it wasn't for the moral effect of the thing I'd shake
+hands with you on that. How far ahead of us do you suppose they are?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had fallen on his knees in the trail.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The crust is freshly broken,&quot; he said after a moment. &quot;They have been
+gone not less than two or three hours, perhaps since morning. See this
+white glistening surface over the first trail, M'seur, like a billion
+needle-points growing out of it? That is the work of three or four
+days' cold. The first sledge passed that long ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland turned and picked up Croisset's rifle. The Frenchman watched him
+as he slipped a clip full of cartridges into the breech.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If there's a snack of cold stuff in the pack dig it out,&quot; he commanded.
+&quot;We'll eat on the run, if you've got anything to eat. If you haven't,
+we'll go hungry. We're going to overtake that sledge sometime this
+afternoon or to-night--or bust!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The saints be blessed, then we are most certain to bust, M'seur,&quot;
+gasped Jean. &quot;And if we don't the dogs will. Non, it is impossible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there anything to eat?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A morsel of cold meat--that is all. But I say that it is impossible.
+That sledge--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland interrupted him with an impatient gesture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I say that if there is anything to eat in there, get it out, and be
+quick about it, Croisset. We're going to overtake those precious
+friends of yours, and I warn you that if you make any attempt to lose
+time something unpleasant is going to happen. Understand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean had bent to unstrap one end of the sledge pack and an angry flash
+leaped into his eyes at the threatening tone of the engineer's voice.
+For a moment he seemed on the point of speech, but caught himself and in
+silence divided the small chunk of meat which he drew from the pack,
+giving the larger share to Howland as he went to the head of the dogs.
+Only once or twice during the next hour did he look back, and after each
+of these glances he redoubled his efforts at urging on the huskies.
+Before they had come to the edge of the black banskian forest which Jean
+had pointed out from the farther side of the plain, Howland saw that the
+pace was telling on the team. The leader was trailing lame, and now and
+then the whole pack would settle back in their traces, to be urged on
+again by the fierce cracking of Croisset's long whip. To add to his own
+discomfiture Howland found that he could no longer keep up with Jean
+and the dogs, and with his weight added to the sledge the huskies
+settled down into a tugging walk.</p>
+
+<p>Thus they came into the deep low forest, and Jean, apparently oblivious
+of the exhaustion of both man and dogs, walked now in advance of the
+team, his eyes constantly on the thin trail ahead. Howland could not
+fail to see that his unnecessary threat of a few hours before still
+rankled in the Frenchman's mind, and several times he made an effort to
+break the other's taciturnity. But Jean strode on in moody silence,
+answering only those things which were put to him directly, and speaking
+not an unnecessary word. At last the engineer jumped from the sledge and
+overtook his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hold on, Jean,&quot; he cried. &quot;I've got enough. You're right, and I want to
+apologize. We're busted--that is, the dogs and I are busted, and we
+might as well give it up until we've had a feed. What do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I say that you have stopped just in time, M'seur,&quot; replied Croisset
+with purring softness. &quot;Another half hour and we would have been through
+the forest, and just beyond that--in the edge of the plain--are those
+whom you seek, Meleese and her people. That is what I started to tell
+you back there when you shut me up. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, if it were not for
+Meleese I would let you go on. And then--what would happen then, M'seur,
+if you made your visit to them in broad day? Listen!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean lifted a warning hand. Faintly there came to them through the
+forest the distant baying of a hound.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is one of our dogs from the Mackenzie country,&quot; he went on softly,
+an insinuating triumph in his low voice. &quot;Now, M'seur, that I have
+brought you here what are you going to do? Shall we go on and take
+dinner with those who are going to kill you, or will you wait a few
+hours? Eh, which shall it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Howland stood motionless, stunned by the Frenchman's words.
+Quickly he recovered himself. His eyes burned with a metallic gleam as
+they met the half taunt in Croisset's cool smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I had not stopped you--we would have gone on?&quot; he questioned
+tensely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;To be sure, M'seur,&quot; retorted Croisset, still smiling. &quot;You warned me
+to lose no time--that something would happen if I did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a quick movement Howland drew his revolver and leveled it at the
+Frenchman's heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you ever prayed to those blessed saints of yours, do it now, Jean
+Croisset. I'm going to kill you!&quot; he cried fiercely.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>THE GLEAM OF THE LIGHT</h3>
+
+<p>In a single breath the face of Jean Croisset became no more than a mask
+of what it had been. The taunting smile left his lips and a gray pallor
+spread over his face as he saw Howland's finger crooked firmly on the
+trigger of his revolver. In another instant there came the sound of a
+metallic snap.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Damnation! An empty cartridge!&quot; Howland exclaimed. &quot;I forgot to load
+after those three shots at the cup. It's coming this time, Jean!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Purposely he snapped the second empty cartridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great God!&quot; gasped Jean. &quot;M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From deep in the forest came again the baying of the Mackenzie hound.
+This time it was much nearer, and for a moment Howland's eyes left the
+Frenchman's terrified face as he turned his head to listen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are coming!&quot; exclaimed Croisset. &quot;M'seur, I swear to--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again Howland's pistol covered his heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then it is even more necessary that I kill you,&quot; he said with frightful
+calmness. &quot;I warned you that I would kill you if you led me into a trap,
+Croisset. The dogs are bushed. There is no way out of this but to
+fight--if there are people coming down the trail. Listen to that!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time, from still nearer, came the shout of a man, and then of
+another, followed by the huskies' sharp yelping as they started afresh
+on the trail. The flush of excitement that had come into Howland's face
+paled until he stood as white as the Frenchman. But it was not the
+whiteness of fear. His eyes were like blue steel flashing in
+the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is nothing to do but fight,&quot; he repeated, even more calmly than
+before. &quot;If we were a mile or two back there it could all happen as I
+planned it. But here--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They will hear the shots,&quot; cried Jean. &quot;The post is no more than a
+gunshot beyond the forest, and there are plenty there who would come out
+to see what it means. Quick, M'seur--follow me. Possibly they are
+hunters going out to the trap-lines. If it comes to the worst--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What then?&quot; demanded Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can shoot me a little later,&quot; temporized the Frenchman with a show
+of his old coolness. &quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I am afraid of that gun, M'seur. I
+will get you out of this if I can. Will you give me the chance--or will
+you shoot?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will shoot--if you fail,&quot; replied the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>Barely were the words out of his mouth when Croisset sprang to the head
+of the dogs, seized the leader by his neck-trace and half dragged the
+team and sledge through the thick bush that edged the trail. A dozen
+paces farther on the dense scrub opened into the clearer run of the
+low-hanging banskian through which Jean started at a slow trot, with
+Howland a yard behind him, and the huskies following with human-like
+cleverness in the sinuous twistings of the trail which the Frenchman
+marked out for them. They had progressed not more than three hundred
+yards when there came to them for a third time the hallooing of a voice.
+With a sharp &quot;hup, hup,&quot; and a low crack of his whip Jean stopped
+the dogs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Virgin be praised, but that is luck!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;They have
+turned off into another trail to the east, M'seur. If they had come on
+to that break in the bush where we dragged the sledge through--&quot; He
+shrugged his shoulders with a gasp of relief. &quot;<i>Sacre</i>, they would not
+be fools enough to pass it without wondering!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland had broken the breech of his revolver and was replacing the
+three empty cartridges with fresh ones.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no mistake next time,&quot; he said, holding out the weapon.
+&quot;You were as near your death a few moments ago as ever before in your
+life, Croisset--and now for a little plain understanding between us.
+Until we stopped out there I had some faith in you. Now I have none. I
+regard you as my worst enemy, and though you are deuced near to your
+friends I tell you that you were never in a tighter box in your life. If
+I fail in my mission here, you shall die. If others come along that
+trail before dark, and run us down, I will kill you. Unless you make it
+possible for me to see and talk with Meleese I will kill you. Your life
+hangs on my success; with my failure your death is as certain as the
+coming of night. I am going to put a bullet through you at the slightest
+suspicion of treachery. Under the circumstances what do you propose
+to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad that you changed your mind, M'seur, and I will not tempt you
+again. I will do the best that I can,&quot; said Jean. Through a narrow break
+in the tops of the banskian pines a few feathery flakes of snow were
+falling, and Jean lifted his eyes to the slit of gray sky above them.
+&quot;Within an hour it will be snowing heavily,&quot; he affirmed. &quot;If they do
+not run across our trail by that time, M'seur, we shall be safe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He led the way through the forest again, more slowly and with greater
+caution than before, and whenever he looked over his shoulder he caught
+the dull gleam of Howland's revolver as it pointed at the hollow of
+his back.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil, but you make me uncomfortable,&quot; he protested. &quot;The hammer is
+up, too, M'seur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, it is up,&quot; said Howland grimly. &quot;And it never leaves your back,
+Croisset. If the gun should go off accidentally it would bore a hole
+clean through you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later the Frenchman halted where the banskians climbed the
+side of a sloping ridge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you could trust me I would ask to go on ahead,&quot; whispered Jean.
+&quot;This ridge shuts in the plain, M'seur, and just over the top of it is
+an old cabin which has been abandoned for many years. There is not one
+chance in a thousand of there being any one there, though it is a good
+fox ridge at this season. From it you may see the light in Meleese's
+window at night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did not stop to watch the effect of his last words, but began picking
+his way up the ridge with the dogs tugging at his heels. At the top he
+swung sharply between two huge masses of snow-covered rock, and in the
+lee of the largest of these, almost entirely sheltered from the drifts
+piled up by easterly winds, they came suddenly on a small log hut. About
+it there were no signs of life. With unusual eagerness Jean scanned the
+surface of the snow, and when he saw that there was trail of neither man
+nor beast in the unbroken crust a look of relief came into his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, so far I have saved my hide,&quot; he grinned. &quot;Now, M'seur,
+look for yourself and see if Jean Croisset has not kept his word!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A dozen steps had taken him through a screen of shrub to the opposite
+slope of the ridge. With outstretched arm he pointed down into the
+plain, and as Howland's eyes followed its direction he stood throbbing
+with sudden excitement. Less than a quarter of a mile away, sheltered in
+a dip of the plain, were three or four log buildings rising black and
+desolate out of the white waste. One of these buildings was a large
+structure similar to that in which Howland had been imprisoned, and as
+he looked a team and sledge appeared from behind one of the cabins and
+halted close to the wall of the large building. The driver was plainly
+visible, and to Howland's astonishment he suddenly began to ascend the
+side of this wall. For the moment Howland had not thought of a stair.</p>
+
+<p>Jean's attitude drew his eyes. The Frenchman had thrust himself half out
+of the screening bushes and was staring through the telescope of his
+hands. With an exclamation he turned quickly to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look, M'seur! Do you see that man climbing the stair? I don't mind
+telling you that he is the one who hit you over the head on the trail,
+and also one of those who shut you up in the coyote. Those are his
+quarters at the post, and possibly he is going up to see Meleese. If you
+were much of a shot you could settle a score or two from here, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The figure had stopped, evidently on a platform midway up the side of
+the building. He stood for a moment as if scanning the plain between him
+and the mountain, then disappeared. Howland had not spoken a word, but
+every nerve in his body tingled strangely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You say Meleese--is there?&quot; he questioned hesitatingly. &quot;And he--who is
+that man, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning
+leisurely toward the old cabin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur, I will not tell you that,&quot; he protested. &quot;I have brought
+you to this place. I have pointed out to you the stair that leads to the
+room where you will find Meleese. You may cut me into ribbons for the
+ravens, but I will tell you no more!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again the threatening fire leaped into Howland's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will trouble you to put your hands behind your back, Croisset,&quot; he
+commanded. &quot;I am going to return a certain compliment of yours by tying
+your hands with this piece of babeesh, which you used on me.
+After that--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And after that, M'seur--&quot; urged Jean, with a touch of the old taunt in
+his voice, and stopping with his back to the engineer and his hands
+behind him. &quot;After that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will tell me all that I want to know,&quot; finished Howland, tightening
+the thong about his wrists.</p>
+
+<p>He led the way then to the cabin. The door was closed, but opened
+readily as he put his weight against it. The single room was lighted by
+a window through which a mass of snow had drifted, and contained nothing
+more than a rude table built against one of the log walls, three supply
+boxes that had evidently been employed as stools, and a cracked and
+rust-eaten sheet-iron stove that had from all appearances long passed
+into disuse. He motioned the Frenchman to a seat at one end of the
+table. Without a word he then went outside, securely toggled the leading
+dog, and returning, closed the door and seated himself at the end of the
+table opposite Jean.</p>
+
+<p>The light from the open window fell full on Croisset's dark face and
+shone in a silvery streak along the top of Howland's revolver as the
+muzzle of it rested casually on a line with the other's breast. There
+was a menacing click as the engineer drew back the hammer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, my dear Jean, we're ready to begin the real game,&quot; he explained.
+&quot;Here we are, high and dry, and down there--just far enough away to be
+out of hearing of this revolver when I shoot--are those we're going to
+play against. So far I've been completely in the dark. I know of no
+reason why I shouldn't go down there openly and be welcomed and given a
+good supper. And yet at the same time I know that my life wouldn't be
+worth a tinker's damn if I <i>did</i> go down. You can clear up the whole
+business, and that's what you're going to do. When I understand why I am
+scheduled to be murdered on sight I won't be handicapped as I now am. So
+go ahead and spiel. If you don't, I'll blow your head off.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and
+defiant.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may shoot, M'seur,&quot; he said quietly. &quot;I have sworn on a cross of
+the Virgin to tell you no more than I have. You could not torture me
+into revealing what you ask.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Howland raised his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Once more, Croisset--will you tell me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A deafening explosion filled the little cabin. From the lobe of Jean's
+ear there ran a red trickle of blood. His face had gone deathly pale.
+But even as the bullet had stung him within an inch of his brain he had
+not flinched.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you tell me, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely
+between the Frenchman's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel. With a cry Howland
+slowly lowered his weapon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!&quot; he cried. &quot;I'd sooner
+kill a dozen men that I know than you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet and went to the door. There was still but little
+snow in the air. To the north the horizon was growing black with the
+early approach of the northern night. With a nervous laugh he
+returned to Jean.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Deuce take it if I don't feel like apologizing to you,&quot; he exclaimed.
+&quot;Does your ear hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No more than if I had scratched it with a thorn,&quot; returned Jean
+politely. &quot;You are good with the pistol, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would not profit by killing you--just now,&quot; mused Howland, seating
+himself again on the box and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as
+he looked across at the other. &quot;But that's a pretty good intimation that
+I'm desperate and mean business, Croisset. We won't quarrel about the
+things I've asked you. What I'm here for is to see Meleese. Now--how is
+that to happen?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For the life of me I don't know,&quot; replied Jean, as calmly as though a
+bullet had not nipped the edge of his ear a moment before. &quot;There is
+only one way I can see, M'seur, and that is to wait and watch from this
+mountain top until Meleese drives out her dogs. She has her own team,
+and in ordinary seasons frequently goes out alone or with one of the
+women at the post. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, she has had enough sledge-riding of late,
+and I doubt if she will find pleasure in her dogs for a long time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had planned to use you,&quot; said Howland, &quot;but I've lost faith in you.
+Honestly, Croisset, I believe you would stick me in the back almost as
+quickly as those murderers down there.&quot; &quot;Not in the back, M'seur,&quot;
+smiled the Frenchman, unmoved. &quot;I have had opportunities to do that.
+<i>Non</i>, since that fight back there I do not believe that I want to
+kill you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I would be a fool to trust you. Isn't that so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not if I gave you my word. That is something we do not break up here as
+you do down among the Wekusko people, and farther south.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But you murder people for pastime--eh, my dear Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset shrugged his shoulders without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;See here, Croisset,&quot; said Howland with sudden earnestness, &quot;I'm almost
+tempted to take a chance with you. Will you go down to the post
+to-night, in some way gain access to Meleese, and give her a
+message from me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the message--what would it be?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would bring Meleese up to this cabin--to-night.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you sure, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am certain that it would. Will you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Non</i>, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The devil take you!&quot; cried Howland angrily. &quot;If I was not certain that
+I would need you later I'd garrote you where you sit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He rose and went to the old stove. It was still capable of holding fire,
+and as it had grown too dark outside for the smoke to be observed from
+the post, he proceeded to prepare a supper of hot coffee and meat. Jean
+watched him in silence, and not until food and drink were on the table
+did the engineer himself break silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course, I'm not going to feed you,&quot; he said curtly, &quot;so I'll have to
+free your hands. But be careful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He placed his revolver on the table beside him after he had freed
+Croisset.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I might assassinate you with a fork!&quot; chuckled the Frenchman softly,
+his black eyes laughing over his coffee cup. &quot;I drink your health,
+M'seur, and wish you happiness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You lie!&quot; snapped Howland.</p>
+
+<p>Jean lowered the cup without drinking.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's the truth, M'seur,&quot; he insisted. &quot;Since that <i>bee</i>-utiful fight
+back there I can not help but wish you happiness. I drink also to the
+happiness of Meleese, also to the happiness of those who tried to kill
+you on the trail and at the coyote. But, <i>Mon Dieu</i>, how is it all to
+come? Those at the post are happy because they believe that you are
+dead. You will not be happy until they are dead. And Meleese--how will
+all this bring happiness to her? I tell you that I am as deep in trouble
+as you, M'seur Howland. May the Virgin strike me dead if I'm not!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He drank, his eyes darkening gloomily. In that moment there flashed into
+Howland's mind a memory of the battle that Jean had fought for him on
+the Great North Trail.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You nearly killed one of them--that night--at Prince Albert,&quot; he said
+slowly. &quot;I can't understand why you fought for me then and won't help me
+now. But you did. And you're afraid to go down there--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Until I have regrown a beard,&quot; interrupted Jean with a low chuckling
+laugh. &quot;You would not be the only one to die if they saw me again like
+this. But that is enough, M'seur. I will say no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jean,&quot; Howland
+apologized, as he secured the Frenchman's hands again after they had
+satisfied their hearty appetites, &quot;but unless you swear by your Virgin
+or something else that you will make no attempt to call assistance I
+shall have to gag you. What do you say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will make no outcry, M'seur. I give you my word for that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With another length of babeesh Howland tied his companion's legs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm going to investigate a little,&quot; he explained. &quot;I am not afraid of
+your voice, for if you begin to shout I will hear you first. But with
+your legs free you might take it into your head to run away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you mind spreading a blanket on the floor, M'seur? If you are
+gone long this box will grow hard and sharp.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later, after he had made his prisoner as comfortable as
+possible in the cabin, Howland went again through the fringe of scrub
+bush to the edge of the ridge. Below him the plain was lost in the gloom
+of night. He could see nothing of the buildings at the post but two or
+three lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. Overhead there were
+no stars; thickening snow shut out what illumination there might have
+been in the north, and even as he stood looking into the desolation to
+the west the snow fell faster and the lights grew fainter and fainter
+until all was a chaos of blackness.</p>
+
+<p>In these moments a desire that was almost madness swept over him. Since
+his fight with Jean the swift passing of events had confined his
+thoughts to their one objective--the finding of Meleese and her people.
+He had assured himself that his every move was to be a cool and
+calculating one, that nothing--not even his great love--should urge him
+beyond that reason which had made him a master-builder among men. As he
+stood with the snow falling heavily on him he knew that his trail would
+be covered before another day--that for an indefinite period he might
+safely wait and watch for Meleese on the mountain top. And yet, slowly,
+he made his way down the side of the ridge. A little way out there in
+the gloom, barely beyond the call of his voice, was the girl for whom he
+was willing to sacrifice all that he had ever achieved in life. With
+each step the desire in him grew--the impulse to bring himself nearer to
+her, to steal across the plain, to approach in the silent smother of the
+storm until he could look on the light which Jean Croisset had told him
+would gleam from her window.</p>
+
+<p>He descended to the foot of the ridge and headed into the plain, taking
+the caution to bury his feet deep in the snow that he might have a trail
+to guide him back to the cabin. At first he found himself impeded by low
+bush. Then the plain became more open, and he knew that there was
+nothing but the night and the snow to shut out his vision ahead. Still
+he had no motive, no reason for what he did. The snow would cover his
+tracks before morning. There would be no harm done, and he might get a
+glimpse of the light, of <i>her</i> light.</p>
+
+<p>It came on his vision with a suddenness that set his heart leaping. A
+dog barked ahead of him, so near that he stopped in his tracks, and then
+suddenly there shot through the snow-gloom the bright gleam of a lamp.
+Before he had taken another breath he was aware of what had happened. A
+curtain had been drawn aside in the chaos ahead. He was almost on the
+walls of the post--and the light gleamed from high, up, from the head of
+the stair!</p>
+
+<p>For a space he stood still, listening and watching. There was no other
+light, no other sound after the barking of the dog. About him the snow
+fell with fluttering noiselessness and it filled him with a sensation of
+safety. The sharpest eyes could not see him, the keenest ears could not
+hear him--and he advanced again until before him there rose out of the
+gloom a huge shadowy mass that was blacker than the night itself. The
+one lighted window was plainly visible now, its curtain two-thirds
+drawn, and as he looked a shadow passed over it. Was it a woman's
+shadow? The window darkened as the figure within came nearer to it, and
+Howland stood with clenched hands and wildly beating heart, almost ready
+to call out softly a name. A little nearer--one more step--and he would
+know. He might throw a chunk of snow-crust, a cartridge from his
+belt--and then--</p>
+
+<p>The shadow disappeared. Dimly Howland made out the snow-covered stair,
+and he went to it and looked up. Ten feet above him the light shone out.</p>
+
+<p>He looked into the gloom behind him, into the gloom out of which he had
+come. Nothing--nothing but the storm. Swiftly he mounted the stair.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>IN THE BEDROOM CHAMBER</h3>
+
+<p>Flattening himself closely against the black logs of the wall Howland
+paused on the platform at the top of the stair. His groping hand touched
+the jam of a door and he held his breath when his fingers incautiously
+rattled the steel of a latch. In another moment he passed on, three
+paces---four--along the platform, at last sinking on his knees in the
+snow, close under the window, his eyes searched the lighted room an inch
+at a time. He saw a section of wall at first, dimly illuminated; then a
+small table near the window covered with books and magazines, and beside
+it a reclining chair buried thick under a great white bear robe. On the
+table, but beyond his vision, was the lamp. He drew himself a few inches
+more through the snow, leaning still farther ahead, until he saw the
+foot of a white bed. A little more and he stopped, his white face close
+to the window-pane.</p>
+
+<p>On the bed, facing him, sat Meleese. Her chin was buried in the cup of
+her hands, and he noticed that she was in a dressing-gown and that her
+beautiful hair was loosed and flowing in glistening waves about her, as
+though she had just brushed it for the night. A movement, a slight
+shifting of her eyes, and she would have seen him.</p>
+
+<p>He was filled with an almost mastering impulse to press his face closer,
+to tap on the window, to draw her eyes to him, but even as his hand rose
+to do the bidding of that impulse something restrained him. Slowly the
+girl lifted her head, and he was thrilled to find that another impulse
+drew him back until his ghostly face was a part of the elusive
+snow-gloom. He watched her as she turned from him and threw back the
+glory of her hair until it half hid her in a mass of copper and gold;
+from his distance he still gazed at her, choking and undecided, while
+she gathered it in three heavy strands and plaited it into a
+shining braid.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant his eyes wandered. Beyond her presence the room was
+empty. He saw a door, and observed that it opened into another room,
+which in turn could be entered through the platform door behind him.
+With his old exactness for detail he leaped to definite conclusion.
+These were Meleese's apartments at the post, separated from all
+others--and Meleese was preparing to retire for the night. If the outer
+door was not locked, and he entered, what danger could there be of
+interruption? It was late. The post was asleep. He had seen no light but
+that in the window through which he was staring.</p>
+
+<p>The thought was scarcely born before he was at the platform door. The
+latch clicked gently under his fingers; cautiously he pushed the door
+inward and thrust in his head and shoulders. The air inside was cold and
+frosty. He reached out an arm to the right and his hand encountered the
+rough-hewn surface of a wall; he advanced a step and reached out to the
+left. There, too, his hand touched a wall. He was in a narrow: corridor.
+Ahead of him there shone a thin ray of light from under the door that
+opened into Meleese's room. Nerving himself for the last move, he went
+boldly to the door, knocked lightly to give some warning of his
+presence, and entered. Meleese was gone. He closed the door behind him,
+scarce believing his eyes. Then at the far end of the room he saw a
+curtain, undulating slightly as if from the movement of a person on the
+other side of it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot; he called softly.</p>
+
+<p>White and dripping with snow, his face bloodless in the tense excitement
+of the moment, he stood with his arms half reaching out when the curtain
+was thrust aside and the girl stood before him. At first she did not
+recognize him in his ghostly storm-covered disguise. But before the
+startled cry that was on her lips found utterance the fear that had
+blanched her face gave place to a swift sweeping flood of color. For a
+space there was no word between them as they stood separated by the
+breadth of the room, Howland with his arms held out to her in pleading
+silence, Meleese with her hands clutched to her bosom, her throat
+atremble with strange sobbing notes that made no more sound than the
+fluttering of a bird's wing.</p>
+
+<p>And Howland, as he came across the room to her, found no words to
+say--none of the things that he had meant to whisper to her, but drew
+her to him and crushed her close to his breast, knowing that in this
+moment nothing could tell her more eloquently than the throbbing of his
+own heart, the passionate pressure of his face to her face, of his great
+love which seemed to stir into life the very silence that
+encompassed them.</p>
+
+<p>It was a silence broken after a moment by a short choking cry, the
+quick-breathing terror of a face turned suddenly up to him robbed of its
+flush and quivering with a fear that still found no voice in words. He
+felt the girl's arms straining against him for freedom; her eyes were
+filled with a staring, questioning horror, as though his presence had
+grown into a thing of which she was afraid. The change was tonic to him.
+This was what he had expected---the first terror at his presence, the
+struggle against his will, and there surged back over him the forces he
+had reserved for this moment. He opened his arms and Meleese slipped
+from them, her hands clutched again in the clinging drapery of
+her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come for you, Meleese,&quot; he said as calmly as though his arrival
+had been expected. &quot;Jean is my prisoner. I forced him to drive me to the
+old cabin up on the mountain, and he is waiting there with the dogs. We
+will start back to-night--<i>now</i>.&quot; Suddenly he sprang to her again, his
+voice breaking in a low pleading cry. &quot;My God, don't you see now how I
+love you?&quot; he went on, taking her white face between his two hands.
+&quot;Don't you understand, Meleese? Jean and I have fought--he is bound hand
+and foot up there in the cabin--and I am waiting for you--for you--&quot; He
+pressed her face against him, her lips so close that he could feel
+their quavering breath. &quot;I have come to fight for you--if you won't go,&quot;
+he whispered tensely. &quot;I don't know why your people have tried to kill
+me, I don't know why they want to kill me, and it makes no difference to
+me now. I want you. I've wanted you since that first glimpse of your
+face through the window, since the fight on the trail--every minute,
+every hour, and I won't give you up as long as I'm alive. If you won't
+go with me--if you won't go now--to-night--&quot; He held her closer, his
+voice trembling in her hair. &quot;If you won't go--I'm going to stay
+with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a thrillingly decisive note in his last words, a note that
+carried with it more than all he had said before, and as Meleese partly
+drew away from him again she gave a sharp cry of protest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No--no--no--&quot; she panted, her hands clutching at his arm. &quot;You must go
+back now--now--&quot; She pushed him toward the door, and as he backed a
+step, looking down into her face, he saw the choking tremble of her
+white throat, heard again the fluttering terror in her breath. &quot;They
+will kill you if they find you here,&quot; she urged. &quot;They think you are
+dead--that you fell through the ice and were drowned. If you don't
+believe me, if you don't believe that I can never go with you,
+tell Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Her words seemed to choke her as she struggled to finish.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell Jean what?&quot; he questioned softly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you go--then?&quot; she cried with sobbing eagerness, as if
+he already understood her. &quot;Will you go back if Jean tells you
+everything--everything about me--about--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you only knew--then you would go back, and never see me again. You
+would understand--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will never understand,&quot; He interrupted again. &quot;I say that it is you
+who do not understand, Meleese! I don't care what Jean would tell me.
+Nothing that has ever happened can make me not want you. Don't you
+understand? Nothing, I say--nothing that has happened--that can ever
+happen--unless--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stopped, looking straight into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing--nothing in the world, Meleese,&quot; he repeated almost in a
+whisper, &quot;unless you did not tell me the truth back on the trail at
+Wekusko when you said that it was not a sin to love you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And if I tell you--if I confess that it is a sin, that I lied back
+there--then will you go?&quot; she demanded quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes flamed on him with a strange light.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he said calmly. &quot;I would not believe you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it is the truth. I lied--lied terribly to you. I have sinned even
+more terribly, and--and you must go. Don't you understand me now? If
+some one should come--and find you here--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There would be a fight,&quot; he said grimly. &quot;I have come prepared to
+fight.&quot; He waited a moment, and in the silence the brown head in front
+of him dropped slowly and he saw a tremor pass through the slender form,
+as if it had been torn by an instant's pain. The pallor had gone from
+Howland's face. The mute surrender in the bowed head, the soft sobbing
+notes that he heard now in the girl's breath, the confession that he
+read in her voiceless grief set his heart leaping, and again he drew her
+close into his arms and turned her face up to his own. There was no
+resistance now, no words, no pleading for him to go; but in her eyes he
+saw the prayerful entreaty with which she had come to him on the Wekusko
+trail, and in the quivering red mouth the same torture and love and
+half-surrender that had burned themselves into his soul there. Love,
+triumph, undying faith shone in his eyes, and he crushed her face closer
+until the lovely mouth lay pouted like a crimson rose for him to kiss.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You--you told me something that wasn't true--once--back there,&quot; he
+whispered, &quot;and you promised that you wouldn't do it again. You haven't
+sinned--in the way that I mean, and in the way that you want me to
+believe.&quot; His arms tightened still more about her, and his voice was
+suddenly filled with a tense quick eagerness. &quot;Why don't you tell me
+everything?&quot; he asked. &quot;You believe that if I knew certain things I
+would never want to see you again, that I would go back into the South.
+You have told me that. Then--if you want me to go--why don't you reveal
+these things to me? If you can't do that, go with me to-night. We will
+go anywhere--to the ends of the earth--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped at the look that had come into her face. Her eyes were turned
+to the window. He saw them filled with a strange terror, and
+involuntarily his own followed them to where the storm was beating
+softly against the window-pane. Close to the lighted glass was pressed a
+man's face. He caught a flashing glimpse of a pair of eyes staring in
+at them, of a thick, wild beard whitened by the snow. He knew the face.
+When life seemed slipping out of his throat he had looked up into it
+that night of the ambush on the Great North Trail. There was the same
+hatred, the same demoniac fierceness in it now.</p>
+
+<p>With a quick movement Howland sprang away from the girl and leveled his
+revolver to where the face had been. Over the shining barrel he saw only
+the taunting emptiness of the storm. Scarcely had the face disappeared
+when there came the loud shout of a man, the hoarse calling of a name,
+and then of another, and after that the quick, furious opening of the
+outer door.</p>
+
+<p>Howland whirled, his weapon pointing to the only entrance. The girl was
+ahead of him and with a warning cry he swung the muzzle of his gun
+upward. In a moment she had pushed the bolt that locked the room from
+the inside, and had leaped back to him, her face white, her breath
+breaking in fear. She spoke no word, but with a moan of terror caught
+him by the arm and pulled him past the light and beyond the thick
+curtain that had hidden her when he had entered the room a few minutes
+before. They were in a second room, palely lighted by a mass of coals
+gleaming through the open door of a box stove, and with a second window
+looking out into the thick night. Fiercely she dragged him to this
+window, her fingers biting deep into the flesh of his arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must go--through this!&quot; she cried chokingly. &quot;Quick! O, my God,
+won't you hurry? Won't you go?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland had stopped. From the blackness of the corridor there came the
+beat of heavy fists on the door and the rage of a thundering voice
+demanding admittance. From out in the night it was answered by the sharp
+barking of a dog and the shout of a second voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why should I go?&quot; he asked. &quot;I told you a few moments ago that I had
+come prepared to fight, Meleese. I shall stay--and fight!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please--please go!&quot; she sobbed, striving to pull him nearer to the
+window. &quot;You can get away in the storm. The snow will cover your trail.
+If you stay they will kill you--kill you--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I prefer to fight and be killed rather than to run away without you,&quot;
+he interrupted. &quot;If you will go--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She crushed herself against his breast.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't go--now--this way--&quot; she urged. &quot;But I will come to you. I
+promise that--I will come to you.&quot; For an instant her hands clasped his
+face. &quot;Will you go--if I promise you that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You swear that you will follow me--that you will come down to the
+Wekusko? My God, are you telling me the truth, Meleese?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, I will come to you--if you go now.&quot; She broke from him and he
+heard her fumbling at the window. &quot;I will come--I will come--but not to
+Wekusko. They will follow you there. Go back to Prince Albert--to the
+hotel where I looked at you through the window. I will come
+there--sometime--as soon as I can--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A blast of cold air swept into his face. He had thrust his revolver
+into its holster and now again for an instant he held Meleese close
+in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be my wife?&quot; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>He felt her throbbing against him. Suddenly her arms tightened around
+his neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, if you want me then--if you want me after you know what I am. Now,
+go--please, please go!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He pulled himself through the window, hanging for a last moment to the
+ledge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you fail to come--within a month--I shall return,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands were at his face again. Once more, as on the trail at Le Pas,
+he felt the sweet pressure of her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will come,&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Her hands thrust him back and he was forced to drop to the snow below.
+Scarcely had his feet touched when there sounded the fierce yelp of a
+dog close to him, and as he darted away into the smother of the storm
+the brute followed at his heels, barking excitedly in the manner of the
+mongrel curs that had found their way up from the South. Between the
+dog's alarm and the loud outcry of men there was barely time in which to
+draw a breath. From the stair platform came a rapid fusillade of rifle
+shots that sang through the air above Howland's head, and mingled with
+the fire was a hoarse voice urging on the cur that followed within a
+leap of his heels.</p>
+
+<p>The presence of the dog filled the engineer with a fear that he had not
+anticipated. Not for an instant did the brute give slack to his tongue
+as they raced through the night, and Howland knew now that the storm and
+the darkness were of little avail in his race for life. There was but
+one chance, and he determined to take it. Gradually he slackened his
+pace, drawing and cocking his revolver; then he turned suddenly to
+confront the yelping Nemesis behind him. Three times he fired in quick
+succession at a moving blot in the snow-gloom, and there went up from
+that blot a wailing cry that he knew was caused by the deep bite
+of lead.</p>
+
+<p>Again he plunged on, a muffled shout of defiance on his lips. Never had
+the fire of battle raged in his veins as now. Back in the window,
+listening in terror, praying for him, was Meleese. The knowledge that
+she was there, that at last he had won her and was fighting for her,
+stirred him with a joy that was next to madness. Nothing could stop him
+now. He loaded his revolver as he ran, slackening his pace as he covered
+greater distance, for he knew that in the storm his trail could be
+followed scarcely faster than a walk.</p>
+
+<p>He gave no thought to Jean Croisset, bound hand and foot in the little
+cabin on the mountain. Even as he had clung to the window for that last
+moment it had occurred to him that it would be folly to return to the
+Frenchman. Meleese had promised to come to him, and he believed her, and
+for that reason Jean was no longer of use to him. Alone he would lose
+himself in that wilderness, alone work his way into the South, trusting
+to his revolver for food, and to his compass and the matches in his
+pocket for life. There would be no sledge-trail for his enemies to
+follow, no treachery to fear. It would take a thousand men to find him
+after the night's storm had covered up his retreat, and if one should
+find him they two would be alone to fight it out.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment he stopped to listen and stare futilely into the blackness
+behind him. When he turned to go on his heart stood still. A shadow had
+loomed out of the night half a dozen paces ahead of him, and before he
+could raise his revolver the shadow was lightened by a sharp flash of
+fire. Howland staggered back, his fingers loosening their grip on his
+pistol, and as he crumpled down into the snow he heard over him the
+hoarse voice that had urged on the dog. After that there was a space of
+silence, of black chaos in which he neither reasoned nor lived, and when
+there came to him faintly the sound of other voices. Finally all of
+them were lost in one--a moaning, sobbing voice that was calling his
+name again and again, a voice that seemed to reach to him from out of an
+infinity of distance, and that he knew was the voice of Meleese. He
+strove to speak, to lift his arms, but his tongue was as lead, his arms
+as though fettered with steel bands.</p>
+
+<p>The voice died away. He lived through a cycle of speechless, painless
+night into which finally a gleam of dawn returned. He felt as if years
+were passing in his efforts to move, to lift himself out of chaos. But
+at last he won. His eyes opened, he raised himself. His first sensation
+was that he was no longer in the snow and that the storm was not beating
+into his face. Instead there encompassed him a damp dungeon-like chill.
+Everywhere there was blackness--everywhere except in one spot, where a
+little yellow eye of fire watched him and blinked at him. At first he
+thought that the eye must be miles and miles away. But it came quickly
+nearer--and still nearer--until at last he knew that it was a candle
+burning with the silence of a death taper a yard or two beyond his feet.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>JEAN'S STORY</h3>
+
+<p>It was the candle-light that dragged Howland quickly back into
+consciousness and pain. He knew that he was no longer in the snow. His
+fingers dug into damp earth as he made an effort to raise himself, and
+with that effort it seemed as though a red-hot knife had cleft him from
+the top of his skull to his chest. The agony of that instant's pain drew
+a sharp cry from him and he clutched both hands to his head, waiting and
+fearing. It did not come again and he sat up. A hundred candles danced
+and blinked before him like so many taunting eyes and turned him dizzy
+with a sickening nausea. One by one the lights faded away after that
+until there was left only the steady glow of the real candle.</p>
+
+<p>The fingers of Howland's right hand were sticky when he drew them away
+from his head, and he shivered. The tongue of flame leaping out of the
+night, the thunderous report, the deluge of fire that had filled his
+brain, all bore their meaning for him now. It had been a close call, so
+close that shivering chills ran up and down his spine as he struggled
+little by little to lift himself to his knees. His enemy's shot had
+grazed his head. A quarter of an inch more, an eighth of an inch even,
+and there would have been no awakening. He closed his eyes for a few
+moments, and when he opened them his vision had gained distance. About
+him he made out indistinctly the black encompassing walls of his prison.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed an interminable time before he could rise and stand on his
+feet and reach the candle. Slowly he felt his way along the wall until
+he came to a low, heavy door, barred from the outside, and just beyond
+this door he found a narrow aperture cut through the decaying logs. It
+was a yard in length and barely wide enough for him to thrust through an
+arm. Three more of these narrow slits in his prison walls he found
+before he came back again to the door. They reminded him of the hole
+through which he had looked out on the plague-stricken cabin at the
+<i>Maison de Mort Rouge</i>, and he guessed that through them came what
+little fresh air found its way into the dungeon.</p>
+
+<p>Near the table on which he replaced the candle was a stool, and he sat
+down. Carefully he went through his pockets. His belt and revolver were
+gone. He had been stripped of letters and papers. Not so much as a match
+had been left him by his captors.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped in his search and listened. Faintly there came to him the
+ticking of his watch. He felt in his watch pocket. It was empty. Again
+he listened. This time he was sure that the sound came from his feet and
+he lowered the candle until the light of it glistened on something
+yellow an arm's distance away. It was his watch, and close beside it lay
+his leather wallet. What money he had carried in the pocketbook was
+untouched, but his personal cards and half a dozen papers that it had
+contained were gone.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at the time. The hour hand pointed to four. Was it possible
+that he had been unconscious for more than six hours? He had left Jean
+on the mountain top soon after nightfall--it was not later than nine
+o'clock when he had seen Meleese. Seven hours! Again he lifted his hands
+to his head. His hair was stiff and matted with blood. It had congealed
+thickly on his cheek and neck and had soaked the top of his coat. He had
+bled a great deal, so much that he wondered he was alive, and yet during
+those hours his captors had given him no assistance, had not even bound
+a cloth about his head.</p>
+
+<p>Did they believe that the shot had killed him, that he was already dead
+when they flung him into the dungeon? Or was this only one other
+instance of the barbaric brutishness of those who so insistently sought
+his life? The fighting blood rose in him with returning strength. If
+they had left him a weapon, even the small knife they had taken from
+his pocket, he would still make an effort to settle a last score or two.
+But now he was helpless.</p>
+
+<p>There was, however, a ray of hope in the possibility that they believed
+him dead. If they who had flung him into the dungeon believed this, then
+he was safe for several hours. No one would come for his body until
+broad day, and possibly not until the following night, when a grave
+could be dug and he could be carried out with some secrecy. In that
+time, if he could escape from his prison, he would be well on his way to
+the Wekusko. He had no doubt that Jean was still a prisoner on the
+mountain top. The dogs and sledge were there and both rifles were where
+he had concealed them. It would be a hard race--a running fight
+perhaps--but he would win, and after a time Meleese would come to him,
+away down at the little hotel on the Saskatchewan.</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, his blood growing warm, his eyes shining in the
+candle-light. The thought of the girl as she had come to him out in the
+night put back into him all of his old fighting strength, all of his
+unconquerable hope and confidence. She had followed him when the dog
+yelped at his heels, as the first shots had been fired; she had knelt
+beside him in the snow as he lay bleeding at the feet of his enemies. He
+had heard her voice calling to him, had felt the thrilling touch of her
+arms, the terror and love of her lips as she thought him dying. She had
+given herself to him; and she would come to him--his lady of the
+snows--if he could escape.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the door and shoved against it with his shoulder. It was
+immovable. Again he thrust his hand and arm through the first of the
+narrow ventilating apertures. The wood with which his fingers came in
+contact was rotting from moisture and age and he found that he could
+tear out handfuls of it. He fell to work, digging with the fierce
+eagerness of an animal. At the rate the soft pulpy wood gave way he
+could win his freedom long before the earliest risers at the post
+were awake.</p>
+
+<p>A sound stopped him, a hollow cough from out of the blackness beyond
+the dungeon wall. It was followed an instant later by a gleam of light
+and Howland darted quickly back to the table. He heard the slipping of a
+bolt outside the door and it flashed on him then that he should have
+thrown himself back into his old position on the floor. It was too late
+for this action now. The door swung open and a shaft of light shot into
+the chamber. For a space Howland was blinded by it and it was not until
+the bearer of the lamp had advanced half-way to the table that he
+recognized his visitor as Jean Croisset. The Frenchman's face was wild
+and haggard. His eyes gleamed red and bloodshot as he stared at
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I had hoped to find you dead,&quot; he whispered huskily.</p>
+
+<p>He reached up to hang the big oil lamp he carried to a hook in the log
+ceiling, and Howland sat amazed at the expression on his face. Jean's
+great eyes gleamed like living coals from out of a death-mask. Either
+fear or pain had wrought deep lines in his face. His hands trembled as
+he steadied the lamp. The few hours that had passed since Howland had
+left him a prisoner on the mountain top had transformed him into an old
+man. Even his shoulders were hunched forward with an air of weakness and
+despair as he turned from the lamp to the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had hoped to find you dead, M'seur,&quot; he repeated in a voice so low it
+could not have been heard beyond the door. &quot;That is why I did not bind
+your wound and give you water when they turned you over to my care. I
+wanted you to bleed to death. It would have been easier--for both
+of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From under the table he drew forth a second stool and sat down opposite
+Howland. The two men stared at each other over the sputtering remnant of
+the candle. Before the engineer had recovered from his astonishment at
+the sudden appearance of the man whom he believed to be safely
+imprisoned in the old cabin, Croisset's shifting eyes fell on the mass
+of torn wood under the aperture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Too late, M'seur,&quot; he said meaningly. &quot;They are waiting up there now.
+It is impossible for you to escape.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is what I thought about you,&quot; replied Howland, forcing himself to
+speak coolly. &quot;How did you manage it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They came up to free me soon after they got you, M'seur. I am grateful
+to you for thinking of me, for if you had not told them I might have
+stayed there and starved like a beast in a trap.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was Meleese,&quot; said Howland. &quot;I told her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean dropped his head in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have just come from Meleese,&quot; he whispered softly. &quot;She sends you her
+love, M'seur, and tells you not to give up hope. The great God, if she
+only knew--if she only knew what is about to happen! No one has told
+her. She is a prisoner in her room, and after that--after that out on
+the plain--when she came to you and fought like one gone mad to save
+you--they will not give her freedom until all is over. What time is
+it, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A clammy chill passed over Howland as he read the time.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half-past four.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman shivered; his fingers clasped and unclasped nervously as
+he leaned nearer his companion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Virgin bear me witness that I wish I might strike ten years off my
+life and give you freedom,&quot; he breathed quickly. &quot;I would do it this
+instant, M'seur. I would help you to escape if it were in any way
+possible. But they are in the room at the head of the stair--waiting.
+At six--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something seemed to choke him and he stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At six--what then?&quot; urged Howland. &quot;My God, man, what makes you look
+so? What is to happen at six?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean stiffened. A flash of the old fire gleamed in his eyes, and his
+voice was steady and clear when he spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have no time to lose in further talk like this, M'seur,&quot; he said
+almost harshly. &quot;They know now that it was I who fought for you and for
+Meleese on the Great North Trail. They know that it is I who saved you
+at Wekusko. Meleese can no more save me than she can save you, and to
+make my task a little harder they have made me their messenger, and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again he stopped, choking for words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What?&quot; insisted Howland, leaning toward him, his face as white as the
+tallow in the little dish on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Their executioner, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With his hands gripped tightly on the table in front of him Jack Howland
+sat as rigid as though an electric shock had passed through him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Great God!&quot; he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First I am to tell you a story, M'seur,&quot; continued Croisset, leveling
+his reddened eyes to the engineer's. &quot;It will not be long, and I pray
+the Virgin to make you understand it as we people of the North
+understand it. It begins sixteen years ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall understand, Jean,&quot; whispered Howland. &quot;Go on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was at one of the company's posts that it happened,&quot; Jean began,
+&quot;and the story has to do with Le M'seur, the Factor, and his wife,
+<i>L'Ange Blanc</i>--that is what she was called, M'seur--the White Angel.
+<i>Mon Dieu</i>, how we loved her! Not with a wicked love, M'seur, but with
+something very near to that which we give our Blessed Virgin. And our
+love was but a pitiful thing when compared with the love of these two,
+each for the other. She was beautiful, gloriously beautiful as we know
+women up in the big snows; like Meleese, who was the youngest of
+their children.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ours was the happiest post in all this great northland, M'seur,&quot;
+continued Croisset after a moment's pause; &quot;and it was all because of
+this woman and the man, but mostly because of the woman. And when the
+little Meleese came--she was the first white girl baby that any of us
+had ever seen--our love for these two became something that I fear was
+almost a sacrilege to our dear Lady of God. Perhaps you can not
+understand such a love, M'seur; I know that it can not be understood
+down in that world which you call civilization, for I have been there
+and have seen. We would have died for the little Meleese, and the other
+Meleese, her mother. And also, M'seur, we would have killed our own
+brothers had they as much as spoken a word against them or cast at the
+mother even as much as a look which was not the purest. That is how we
+loved her sixteen years ago this winter, M'seur, and that is how we love
+her memory still.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is dead,&quot; uttered Howland, forgetting in these tense moments the
+significance Jean's story might hold for him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; she is dead. M'seur, shall I tell you how she died?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, his lithe body
+twitching like a wolf's as he stood for an instant half leaning over
+the engineer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Shall I tell you how she died, M'seur?&quot; he repeated, falling back on
+his stool, his long arms stretched over the table. &quot;It happened like
+this, sixteen years ago, when the little Meleese was four years old and
+the oldest of the three sons was fourteen. That winter a man and his boy
+came up from Churchill. He had letters from the Factor at the Bay, and
+our Factor and his wife opened their doors to him and to his son, and
+gave them all that it was in their power to give.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, this man was from that glorious civilization of yours,
+M'seur--from that land to the south where they say that Christ's temples
+stand on every four corners, but he could not understand the strange God
+and the strange laws of our people! For months he had been away from the
+companionship of women, and in this great wilderness the Factor's wife
+came into his life as the flower blossoms in the desert. Ah, M'seur, I
+can see now how his wicked heart strove to accomplish the things, and
+how he failed because the glory of our womanhood up here has come
+straight down from Heaven. And in failing he went mad--mad with that
+passion of the race I have seen in Montreal, and then--ah, the Great
+God, M'seur, do you not understand what happened next?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset lifted his head, his face twisted in a torture that was half
+grief, half madness, and stared at Howland, with quivering nostrils and
+heaving chest. In his companion's face he saw only a dead white pallor
+of waiting, of half comprehension. He leaned over the table again,
+controlling himself by a mighty effort.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was at that time when most of us were out among the trappers, just
+before our big spring caribou roast, when the forest people came in with
+their furs, M'seur. The post was almost deserted. Do you understand? The
+woman was alone in her cabin with the little Meleese--and when we came
+back at night she was dead. Yes, M'seur, she killed herself, leaving a
+few written words to the Factor telling him what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The man and the boy escaped on a sledge after the crime. <i>Mon Dieu</i>, how
+the forest people leaped in pursuit! Runners carried the word over the
+mountains and through the swamps, and a hundred sledge parties searched
+the forest trails for the man-fiend and his son. It was the Factor
+himself and his youngest boy who found them, far out on the Churchill
+trail. And what happened then, M'seur? Just this: While the man-fiend
+urged on his dogs the son fired back with a rifle, and one of his
+bullets went straight through the heart of the pursuing Factor, so that
+in the space of one day and one night the little Meleese was made both
+motherless and fatherless by these two whom the devil had sent to
+destroy the most beautiful thing we have ever known in this North. Ah,
+M'seur, you turn white! Does it bring a vision to you now? Do you hear
+the crack of that rifle? Can you see--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My God!&quot; gasped Howland. Even now he understood nothing of what this
+tragedy might mean to him--forgot everything but that he was listening
+to the terrible tragedy that had come to the woman who was the mother of
+the girl he loved. He half rose from his seat as Croisset paused; his
+eyes glittered, his death-white face was set in tense fierce lines, his
+finger-nails dug into the board table, as he demanded, &quot;What happened
+then, Croisset?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean was eying him like an animal. His voice was low.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They escaped, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a deep breath Howland sank back. In a moment he leaned again toward
+Jean as he saw come into the Frenchman's eyes a slumbering fire that a
+few seconds later blazed into vengeful malignity when he drew slowly
+from an inside pocket of his coat a small parcel wrapped and tied in
+soft buckskin.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They have sent you this, M'seur,&quot; he said. &quot;'At the very last,' they
+told me, 'let him read this.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With his eyes on the parcel, scarcely breathing, Howland waited while
+with exasperating slowness Croisset's brown fingers untied the cord that
+secured it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;First you must understand what this meant to us in the North, M'seur,&quot;
+said Jean, his hands covering the parcel after he had finished with the
+cord. &quot;We are different who live up here--different from those who live
+in Montreal, and beyond. With us a lifetime is not too long to spend in
+avenging a cruel wrong. It is our honor of the North. I was fifteen
+then, and had been fostered by the Factor and his wife since the day my
+mother died of the smallpox and I dragged myself into the post, almost
+dead of starvation. So it happened that I was like a brother to Meleese
+and the other three. The years passed, and the desire for vengeance grew
+in us as we became older, until it was the one thing that we most
+desired in life, even filling the gentle heart of Meleese, whom we sent
+to school in Montreal when she was eleven, M'seur. It was three years
+later--while she was still in Montreal--that I went on one of my
+wandering searches to a post at the head of the Great Slave, and there,
+M'seur--there--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset had risen. His long arms were stretched high, his head thrown
+back, his upturned face aflame with a passion that was almost that
+of prayer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, I thank the great God in Heaven that it was given to Jean
+Croisset to meet one of those whom we had pledged our lives to find--and
+I slew him!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stood silent, eyes partly closed, still as if in prayer. When he sank
+into his chair again the look of hatred had gone from his face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was the father, and I killed him, M'seur--killed him slowly, telling
+him of what he had done as I choked the life from him; and then, a
+little at a time, I let the life back into him, forcing him to tell me
+where I would find his son, the slayer of Meleese's father. And after
+that I closed on his throat until he was dead, and my dogs dragged his
+body through three hundred miles of snow that the others might look on
+him and know that he was dead. That was six years ago, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland was scarcely breathing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And the other--the son--&quot; he whispered densely. &quot;You found him,
+Croisset? You killed him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What would you have done, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Howland's hands gripped those that guarded the little parcel.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have killed him, Jean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He spoke slowly, deliberately.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have killed him,&quot; he repeated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad of that, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jean was unwrapping the buckskin, fold after fold of it, until at last
+there was revealed a roll of paper, soiled and yellow along the edges.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;These pages are taken from the day-book at the post where the woman
+lived,&quot; he explained softly, smoothing them under his hands. &quot;Each day
+the Factor of a post keeps a reckoning of incidents as they pass, as I
+have heard that sea captains do on shipboard. It has been a company law
+for hundreds of years. We have kept these pages to ourselves, M'seur.
+They tell of what happened at our post sixteen years ago this winter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke the half-breed came to Howland's side, smoothing the first
+page on the table in front of him, his slim forefinger pointing to the
+first few lines.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They came on this day,&quot; he said, his breath close to the engineer's
+ear. &quot;These are their names, M'seur--the names of the two who destroyed
+the paradise that our Blessed Lady gave to us many years ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In an instant Howland had read the lines. His blood seemed to dry in his
+veins and his heart to stand still. For these were the words he read:
+&quot;On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John
+Howland and his son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a sharp cry he sprang to his feet, overturning the stool, facing
+Croisset, his hands clenched, his body bent as if about to spring. Jean
+stood calmly, his white teeth agleam. Then, slowly, he stretched out
+a hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur John Howland, will you read what happened to the father and
+mother of the little Meleese sixteen years ago? Will you read, and
+understand why your life was sought on the Great North Trail, why you
+were placed on a case of dynamite in the Wekusko coyote, and why, with
+the coming of this morning's dawn--at six--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused, shivering. Howland seemed not to notice the tremendous effort
+Croisset was making to control himself. With the dazed speechlessness of
+one recovering from a sudden blow he turned to the table and bent over
+the papers that the Frenchman had laid out before him. Five minutes
+later he raised his head. His face was as white as chalk. Deep lines had
+settled about his mouth. As a sick man might, he lifted his hand and
+passed it over his face and through his hair. But his eyes were afire.
+Involuntarily Jean's body gathered itself as if to meet attack.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have read it,&quot; he said huskily, as though the speaking of the words
+caused him a great effort. &quot;I understand now. My name is John Howland.
+And my father's name was John Howland. I understand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I understand,&quot; repeated the engineer, advancing a step. &quot;And you, Jean
+Croisset--do you believe that I am <i>that</i> John Howland--the John
+Howland--the son who--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
+thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you,&quot; replied Jean.
+&quot;Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
+their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
+beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
+are waiting above no torture is too great for you. They have condemned
+you to death. This morning, exactly as the minute hand of your watch
+counts off the hour of six, you will be shot to death through one of
+these holes in the dungeon walls. And this--this note from Meleese--is
+the last thing I have to give you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He dropped a folded bit of paper on the table. Mechanically Howland
+reached for it. Stunned and speechless, cold with the horror of his
+death sentence, he smoothed out the note. There were only a few words,
+apparently written in great haste.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have been praying for you all night. If God fails to answer my
+prayers I will still do as I have promised--and follow you.&quot;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&quot;Meleese.&quot;<br>
+
+<p>He heard a movement and lifted his eyes. Jean was gone. The door was
+swinging slowly inward. He heard the wooden bolt slip into place, and
+after that there was not even the sound of a moccasined foot stealing
+through the outer darkness.</p>
+
+
+
+<br><br><hr style="width: 35%;"><br><br>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<br>
+
+<h3>MELEESE</h3>
+
+<p>For many minutes Howland stood waiting as if life had left him. His eyes
+were on the door, but unseeing. He made no sound, no movement again
+toward the aperture in the wall. Fate had dealt him the final blow, and
+when at last he roused himself from its first terrible effect there
+remained no glimmering of hope in his breast, no thought of the battle
+he had been making for freedom a short time before. The note fluttered
+from his fingers and he drew his watch from his pocket and placed it on
+the table. It was a quarter after five. There still remained
+forty-five minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Three-quarters of an hour and then--death. There was no doubt in his
+mind this time. Ever in the coyote, with eternity staring him in the
+face, he had hoped and fought for life. But here there was no hope,
+there was to be no fighting. Through one of the black holes in the wall
+he was to be shot down, with no chance to defend himself, to prove
+himself innocent. And Meleese--did she, too, believe him guilty of
+that crime?</p>
+
+<p>He groaned aloud, and picked up the note again. Softly he repeated her
+last words to him: &quot;If God fails to answer my prayers I will still do as
+I have promised, and follow you.&quot; Those words seemed to cry aloud his
+doom. Even Meleese had given up hope. And yet, was there not a deeper
+significance in her words? He started as if some one had struck him, his
+eyes agleam.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>'I will follow you.</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He almost sobbed the words this time. His hands trembled and he dropped
+the paper again on the table and turned his eyes in staring horror
+toward the door. What did she mean? Would Meleese kill herself if he was
+murdered by her brothers? He could see no other meaning in her last
+message to him, and for a time after the chilling significance of her
+words struck his heart he scarce restrained himself from calling aloud
+for Jean. If he could but send a word back to her, tell her once more of
+his great love--that the winning of that love was ample reward for all
+that he had lost and was about to lose, and that it gave him such
+happiness as he had never known even in this last hour of his torture!</p>
+
+<p>Twice he shouted for Croisset, but there came no response save the
+hollow echoings of his own voice in the subterranean chambers. After
+that he began to think more sanely. If Meleese was a prisoner in her
+room it was probable that Croisset, who was now fully recognized as a
+traitor at the post, could no longer gain access to her. In some secret
+way Meleese had contrived to give him the note, and he had performed his
+last mission for her.</p>
+
+<p>In Howland's breast there grew slowly a feeling of sympathy for the
+Frenchman. Much that he had not understood was clear to him now. He
+understood why Meleese had not revealed the names of his assailants at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, he understood why she had fled from him
+after his abduction, and why Jean had so faithfully kept secrecy for her
+sake. She had fought to save him from her own flesh and blood, and Jean
+had fought to save him, and in these last minutes of his life he would
+liked to have had Croisset with him that he might have taken has hand
+and thanked him for what he had done. And because he had fought for him
+and Meleese the Frenchman's fate was to be almost as terrible as his
+own. It was he who would fire the fatal shot at six o'clock. Not the
+brothers, but Jean Croisset, would be his executioner and murderer.</p>
+
+<p>The minutes passed swiftly, and as they went Howland was astonished to
+find how coolly he awaited the end. He even began to debate with himself
+as to through which hole the fatal shot would be fired. No matter where
+he stood he was in the light of the big hanging lamp. There was no
+obscure or shadowy corner in which for a few moments he might elude his
+executioner. He even smiled when the thought occurred to him that it
+was possible to extinguish the light and crawl under the table, thus
+gaining a momentary delay. But what would that delay avail him? He was
+anxious for the fatal minute to arrive, and be over.</p>
+
+<p>There were moments of happiness when in the damp horror of his
+death-chamber there came before him visions of Meleese, grown even
+sweeter and more lovable, now that he knew how she had sacrificed
+herself between two great loves--the love of her own people and the love
+of himself. And at last she had surrendered to him. Was it possible that
+she could have made that surrender if she, like her brothers, believed
+him to be the murderer of her father--the son of the man-fiend who had
+robbed her of a mother? It was impossible, he told himself. She did not
+believe him guilty. And yet--why had she not given him some such word in
+her last message to him?</p>
+
+<p>His eyes traveled to the note on the table and he began searching in his
+coat pockets. In one of them he found the worn stub of a pencil, and
+for many minutes after that he was oblivious to the passing of time as
+he wrote his last words to Meleese. When he had finished he folded the
+paper and placed it under his watch. At the final moment, before the
+shot was fired, he would ask Jean to take it. His eyes fell on his watch
+dial and a cry burst from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>It lacked but ten minutes of the final hour!</p>
+
+<p>Above him he heard faintly the sharp barking of dogs, the hollow sound
+of men's voices. A moment later there came to him an echo as of swiftly
+tramping feet, and after that silence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean,&quot; he called tensely. &quot;Ho, Jean--Jean Croisset--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He caught up the paper and ran from one black opening to another,
+calling the Frenchman's name.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As you love your God, Jean, as you have a hope of Heaven, take this
+note to Meleese!&quot; he pleaded. &quot;Jean--Jean Croisset--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There came no answer, no movement outside, and Howland stilled the
+beating of his heart to listen. Surely Croisset was there! He looked
+again at the watch he held in his hand. In four minutes the shot would
+be fired. A cold sweat bathed his face. He tried to cry out again, but
+something rose in his throat and choked him until his voice was only a
+gasp. He sprang back to the table and placed the note once more under
+the watch. Two minutes! One and a half! One!</p>
+
+<p>With a sudden fearless cry he sprang into the very center of his prison,
+and flung out his arms with his face to the hole next the door. This
+time his voice was almost a shout.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Jean Croisset, there is a note under my watch on the table. After you
+have killed me take it to Meleese. If you fail I shall haunt you to
+your grave!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Still no sound--no gleam of steel pointing at aim through the black
+aperture. Would the shot come from behind?</p>
+
+<p>Tick--tick--tick--tick--</p>
+
+<p>He counted the beating of his watch up to twenty. A sound stopped him
+then, and he closed his eyes, and a great shiver passed through
+his body.</p>
+
+<p>It was the tiny bell of his watch tinkling off the hour of six!</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had that sound ceased to ring in his brain when from far
+through the darkness beyond the wall of his prison there came a creaking
+noise, as if a heavy door had been swung slowly on its hinges, or a trap
+opened--then voices, low, quick, excited voices, the hurrying tread of
+feet, a flash of light shooting through the gloom. They were coming!
+After all it was not to be a private affair, and Jean was to do his
+killing as the hangman's job is done in civilization--before a crowd.
+Howland's arms dropped to his side. This was more terrible than the
+other--this seeing and hearing of preparation, in which he fancied that
+he heard the click of Croisset's gun as he lifted the hammer.</p>
+
+<p>Instead it was a hand fumbling at the door. There were no voices now,
+only a strange moaning sound that he could not account for. In another
+moment it was made clear to him. The door swung open, and the
+white-robed figure of Meleese sprang toward him with a cry that echoed
+through the dungeon chambers. What happened then--the passing of white
+faces beyond the doorway, the subdued murmur of voices, were all lost to
+Howland in the knowledge that at the last moment they had let her come
+to him, that he held her in his arms, and that she was crushing her face
+to his breast and sobbing things to him which he could not understand.
+Once or twice in his life he had wondered if realities might not be
+dreams, and the thought came to him now when he felt the warmth of her
+hands, her face, her hair, and then the passionate pressure of her lips
+on his own. He lifted his eyes, and in the doorway he saw Jean Croisset,
+and behind him a wild, bearded face--the face that had been over him
+when life was almost choked from him on the Great North Trail. And
+beyond these two he saw still others, shining ghostly and indistinct in
+the deeper gloom of the outer darkness. He strained Meleese to him, and
+when he looked down into her face he saw her beautiful eyes flooded with
+tears, and yet shining with a great joy. Her lips trembled as she
+struggled to speak. Then suddenly she broke from his arms and ran to the
+door, and Jean Croisset came between them, with the wild bearded man
+still staring over his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;M'seur, will you come with us?&quot; said Jean.</p>
+
+<p>The bearded man dropped back into the thick gloom, and without speaking
+Howland followed Croisset, his eyes on the shadowy form of Meleese. The
+ghostly faces turned from the light, and the tread of their retreating
+feet marked the passage through the blackness. Jean fell back beside
+Howland, the huge bulk of the bearded man three paces ahead. A dozen
+steps more and they came to a stair down which a light shone. The
+Frenchman's hand fell detainingly on Howland's arm, and when a moment
+later they reached the top of the stairs all had disappeared but Jean
+and the bearded man. Dawn was breaking, and a pale light fell through
+the two windows of the room they had entered. On a table burned a lamp,
+and near the table were several chairs. To one of these Croisset
+motioned the engineer, and as Howland sat down the bearded man turned
+slowly and passed through a door. Jean shrugged his shoulders as the
+other disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, that means that he leaves it all to me,&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;I
+don't wonder that it is hard for him to talk, M'seur. Perhaps you have
+begun to understand!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, a little,&quot; replied Howland. His heart was throbbing as if he had
+just finished climbing a long hill. &quot;That was the man who tried to kill
+me. But Meleese--the--&quot; He could go no further. Scarce breathing, he
+waited for Jean to speak.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is Pierre Thoreau,&quot; he said, &quot;eldest brother to Meleese. It is he
+who should say what I am about to tell you, M'seur. But he is too full
+of grief to speak. You wonder at that? And yet I tell you that a man
+with a better soul than Pierre Thoreau never lived, though three times
+he has tried to kill you. Do you remember what you asked me a short time
+ago, M'seur--if I thought that <i>you</i> were the John Howland who murdered
+the father of Meleese sixteen years ago? God's saints, and I did until
+hardly more than half an hour ago, when some one came from the South and
+exploded a mine under our feet. It was the youngest of the three
+brothers. M'seur we have made a great mistake, and we ask your
+forgiveness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In the silence the eyes of the two men met across the table. To Howland
+it was not the thought that his life was saved that came with the
+greatest force, but the thought of Meleese, the knowledge that in that
+hour when all seemed to be lost she was nearer to him than ever. He
+leaned half over the table, his hands clenched, his eyes blazing. Jean
+did not understand, for he went on quickly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know it is hard, M'seur. Perhaps it will be impossible for you to
+forgive a thing like this. We have tried to kill you--kill you by a slow
+torture, as we thought you deserved. But think for a moment, M'seur, of
+what happened up here sixteen years ago this winter. I have told you how
+I choked life from the man-fiend. So I would have choked life from you
+if it had not been for Meleese. I, too, am guilty. Only six years ago we
+knew that the right John Howland--the son of the man I slew--was in
+Montreal, and we sent to seek him this youngest brother, for he had been
+a long time at school with Meleese and knew the ways of the South better
+than the others. But he failed to find him at that time, and it was only
+a short while ago that this brother located you.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As Our Blessed Lady is my witness, M'seur, it is not strange that he
+should have taken you for the man we sought, for it is singular that you
+bear him out like a brother in looks, as I remember the boy. It is true
+that Fran&ccedil;ois made a great error when he sent word to his brothers
+suggesting that if either Gregson or Thorne was put out of the way you
+would probably be sent into the North. I swear by the Virgin that
+Meleese knew nothing of this, M'seur. She knew nothing of the schemes by
+which her brothers drove Gregson and Thorne back into the South. They
+did not wish to kill them, and yet it was necessary to do something that
+you might replace one of them, M'seur. They did not make a move alone
+but that something happened. Gregson lost a finger. Thorne was badly
+hurt--as you know. Bullets came through their window at night. With
+Jackpine in their employ it was easy to work on them, and it was not
+long before they sent down asking for another man to replace them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time a surge of anger swept through Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The cowards!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;A pretty pair, Croisset--to crawl out from
+under a trap to let another in at the top!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps not so bad as that,&quot; said Jean. &quot;They were given to understand
+that they--and they alone--were not wanted in the country. It may be
+that they did not think harm would come to you, and so kept quiet about
+what had happened. It may be, too, that they did not like to have it
+known that they were running away from danger. Is not that human,
+M'seur? Anyway, you were detailed to come, and not until then did
+Meleese know of all that had occurred.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The Frenchman stopped for a moment. The glare had faded from Howland's
+eyes. The tense lines in his face relaxed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I--I--believe I understand everything now, Jean,&quot; he said. &quot;You traced
+the wrong John Howland, that's all. I love Meleese, Jean. I would kill
+John Howland for her. I want to meet her brothers and shake their hands.
+I don't blame them. They're men. But, somehow, it hurts to think of
+her--of Meleese--as--as almost a murderer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>Mon Dieu</i>, M'seur, has she not saved your life! Listen to this! It
+was then--when she knew what had happened--that Meleese came to me--whom
+she had made the happiest man in the world because it was she who
+brought my Mariane over from Churchill on a visit especially that I
+might see her and fall in love with her, M'seur--which I did. Meleese
+came to me--to Jean Croisset--and instead of planning your murder,
+M'seur, she schemed to save your life--with me--who would have cut you
+into bits no larger than my finger and fed you to the carrion ravens,
+who would have choked the life out of you until your eyes bulged in
+death, as I choked that one up on the Great Slave! Do you understand,
+M'seur? It was Meleese who came and pleaded with me to save your
+life--before you had left Chicago, before she had heard more of you than
+your name, before--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Croisset hesitated, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Before what, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Before she had learned to love you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God bless her!&quot; exclaimed Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You believe this, M'seur?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As I believe in a God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I will tell you what she did, M'seur,&quot; he continued in a low
+voice. &quot;The plan of the brothers was to make you a prisoner near Prince
+Albert and bring you north. I knew what was to happen then. It was to be
+a beautiful vengeance, M'seur--a slow torturing death on the spot where
+the crime was committed sixteen years ago. But Meleese knew nothing of
+this. She was made to believe that up here, where the mother and father
+died, you would be given over to the proper law--to the mounted police
+who come this way now and then. She is only a girl, M'seur, easily made
+to believe strange things in such matters as these, else she would have
+wondered why you were not given to the officers in Prince Albert. It was
+the eldest brother who thought of her as a lure to bring you out of the
+town into their hands, and not until the last moment, when they were
+ready to leave for the South, did she overhear words that aroused her
+suspicions that they were about to kill you. It was then, M'seur, that
+she came to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you, Jean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the day that Mariane promised to become my wife, M'seur, I promised
+in Our Blessed Lady's name to repay my debt to Meleese, and the manner
+of payment came in this fashion. Jackpine, too, was her slave, and so we
+worked together. Two hours after Meleese and her brothers had left for
+the South I was following them, shaven of beard and so changed that I
+was not recognized in the fight on the Great North Trail. Meleese
+thought that her brothers would make you a prisoner that night without
+harming you. Her brothers told her how to bring you to their camp. She
+knew nothing of the ambush until they leaped on you from cover. Not
+until after the fight, when in their rage at your escape the brothers
+told her that they had intended to kill you, did she realize fully what
+she had done. That is all, M'seur. You know what happened after that.
+She dared not tell you at Wekusko who your enemies were, for those
+enemies were of her own flesh and blood, and dearer to her than life.
+She was between two great loves, M'seur--the love for her
+brothers and--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Again Jean hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And her love for me,&quot; finished Howland.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, her love for you, M'seur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The two men rose from the table, and for a moment stood with clasped
+hands in the smoky light of lamp and dawn. In that moment neither heard
+a tap at the door leading to the room beyond, nor saw the door move
+gently inward, and Meleese, hesitating, framed in the opening.</p>
+
+<p>It was Howland who spoke first.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thank God that all these things have happened, Jean,&quot; he said
+earnestly. &quot;I am glad that for a time you took me for that other John
+Howland, and that Pierre Thoreau and his brothers schemed to kill me at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, for if these things had not occurred as they
+have I would never have seen Meleese. And now, Jean--&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His ears caught sound of movement, and he turned in time to see Meleese
+slipping quietly out.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese!&quot; he called softly. &quot;Meleese!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In an instant he had darted after her, leaving Jean beside the table.
+Beyond the door there was only the breaking gloom of the gray mornings
+but it was enough for him to see faintly the figure of the girl he
+loved, half turned, half waiting for him. With a cry of joy he sprang
+forward and gathered her close in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Meleese--my Meleese--&quot; he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>After that there came no sound from the dawn-lit room beyond, but Jean
+Croisset, still standing by the table, murmured softly to himself: &quot;Our
+Blessed Lady be praised, for it is all as Jean Croisset would have
+it--and now I can go to my Mariane!&quot;</p>
+
+<br>
+<hr class="full">
+<pre>
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Danger Trail
+
+Author: James Oliver Curwood
+
+Release Date: January 12, 2004  [eBook #10696]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DANGER TRAIL***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Charlie Kirschner, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+THE DANGER TRAIL
+
+By
+
+JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD
+
+1910
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER I.    The Girl of the Snows
+CHAPTER II.   Lips That Speak Not
+CHAPTER III.  The Mysterious Attack
+CHAPTER IV.   The Warning
+CHAPTER V.    Howland's Midnight Visitor
+CHAPTER VI.   The Love of a Man
+CHAPTER VII.  The Blowing of the Coyote
+CHAPTER VIII. The Hour of Death
+CHAPTER IX.   The Tryst
+CHAPTER X.    A Race Into the North
+CHAPTER XI.   The House of the Red Death
+CHAPTER XII.  The Fight
+CHAPTER XIII. The Pursuit
+CHAPTER XIV.  The Gleam of the Light
+CHAPTER XV.   In the Bedroom Chamber
+CHAPTER XVI.  Jean's Story
+CHAPTER XVII. Meleese
+
+
+
+
+THE DANGER TRAIL
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+THE GIRL OF THE SNOWS
+
+For perhaps the first time in his life Howland felt the spirit of
+romance, of adventure, of sympathy for the picturesque and the unknown
+surging through his veins. A billion stars glowed like yellow,
+passionless eyes in the polar cold of the skies. Behind him, white in
+its sinuous twisting through the snow-smothered wilderness, lay the icy
+Saskatchewan, with a few scattered lights visible where Prince Albert,
+the last outpost of civilization, came down to the river half a
+mile away.
+
+But it was into the North that Howland looked. From the top of the great
+ridge which he had climbed he gazed steadily into the white gloom which
+reached for a thousand miles from where he stood to the Arctic Sea.
+Faintly in the grim silence of the winter night there came to his ears
+the soft hissing sound of the aurora borealis as it played in its
+age-old song over the dome of the earth, and as he watched the cold
+flashes shooting like pale arrows through the distant sky and listened
+to its whispering music of unending loneliness and mystery, there came
+on him a strange feeling that it was beckoning to him and calling to
+him--telling him that up there very near to the end of the earth lay all
+that he had dreamed of and hoped for since he had grown old enough to
+begin the shaping of a destiny of his own.
+
+He shivered as the cold nipped at his blood, and lighted a fresh cigar,
+half-turning to shield himself from a wind that was growing out of the
+east. As the match flared in the cup of his hands for an instant there
+came from the black gloom of the balsam and spruce at his feet a
+wailing, hungerful cry that brought a startled breath from his lips. It
+was a cry such as Indian dogs make about the tepees of masters who are
+newly dead. He had never heard such a cry before, and yet he knew that
+it was a wolf's. It impressed him with an awe which was new to him and
+he stood as motionless as the trees about him until, from out the gray
+night-gloom to the west, there came an answering cry, and then, from far
+to the north, still another.
+
+"Sounds as though I'd better go back to town," he said to himself,
+speaking aloud. "By George, but it's lonely!"
+
+He descended the ridge, walked rapidly over the hard crust of the snow
+across the Saskatchewan, and assured himself that he felt considerably
+easier when the lights of Prince Albert gleamed a few hundred yards
+ahead of him.
+
+Jack Howland was a Chicago man, which means that he was a hustler, and
+not overburdened with sentiment. For fifteen of his thirty-one years he
+had been hustling. Since he could easily remember, he had possessed to
+a large measure but one ambition and one hope. With a persistence which
+had left him peculiarly a stranger to the more frivolous and human sides
+of life he had worked toward the achievement of this ambition, and
+to-night, because that achievement was very near at hand, he was happy.
+He had never been happier. There flashed across his mental vision a
+swiftly moving picture of the fight he had made for success. It had been
+a magnificent fight. Without vanity he was proud of it, for fate had
+handicapped him at the beginning, and still he had won out. He saw
+himself again the homeless little farmer boy setting out from his
+Illinois village to take up life in a great city; as though it had all
+happened but yesterday he remembered how for days and weeks he had
+nearly starved, how he had sold papers at first, and then, by lucky
+chance, became errand boy in a big drafting establishment. It was there
+that the ambition was born in him. He saw great engineers come and
+go--men who were greater than presidents to him, and who sought out the
+ends of the earth in the following of their vocation. He made a slave of
+himself in the nurturing and strengthening of his ambition to become one
+of them--to be a builder of railroads and bridges, a tunneler of
+mountains, a creator of new things in new lands. His slavery had not
+lessened as his years increased. Voluntarily he had kept himself in
+bondage, fighting ceaselessly the obstacles in his way, triumphing over
+his handicaps as few other men had triumphed, rising, slowly, steadily,
+resistlessly, until now--. He flung back his head and the pulse of his
+heart quickened as he heard again the words of Van Horn, president of
+the greatest engineering company on the continent.
+
+"Howland, we've decided to put you in charge Of the building of the
+Hudson Bay Railroad. It's one of the wildest jobs we've ever had, and
+Gregson and Thorne don't seem to catch on. They're bridge builders and
+not wilderness men. We've got to lay a single line of steel through
+three hundred miles of the wildest country in North America, and from
+this hour your motto is 'Do it or bust!' You can report at Le Pas as
+soon as you get your traps together."
+
+Those words had broken the slavedom for Howland. He had been fighting
+for an opportunity, and now that the opportunity had come he was sure
+that he would succeed. Swiftly, with his hands thrust deep in his
+pockets, he walked down the one main street of Prince Albert, puffing
+out odorous clouds of smoke from his cigar, every fiber in him tingling
+with the new joy that had come into his life. Another night would see
+him in Le Pas, the little outpost sixty miles farther east on the
+Saskatchewan. Then a hundred miles by dog-sledge and he would be in the
+big wilderness camp where three hundred men were already at work
+clearing a way to the great bay to the north. What a glorious
+achievement that road would be! It would remain for all time as a
+cenotaph to his ability, his courage and indomitable persistence.
+
+It was past nine o'clock when Howland entered the little old Windsor
+Hotel. The big room, through the windows of which he could look out on
+the street and across the frozen Saskatchewan, was almost empty. The
+clerk had locked his cigar-case and had gone to bed. In one corner,
+partly shrouded in gloom, sat a half-breed trapper who had come in that
+day from the Lac la Ronge country, and at his feet crouched one of his
+wolfish sledge-dogs. Both were wide-awake and stared curiously at
+Howland as he came in. In front of the two large windows sat half a
+dozen men, as silent as the half-breed, clad in moccasins and thick
+caribou skin coats. One of them was the factor from a Hudson Bay post at
+Lac Bain who had not been down to the edge of civilization for three
+years; the others, including two Crees and a Chippewayan, were hunters
+and Post men who had driven in their furs from a hundred miles to
+the north.
+
+For a moment Howland paused in the middle of the room and looked about
+him. Ordinarily he would have liked this quiet, and would have gone to
+one of the two rude tables to write a letter or work out a problem of
+some sort, for he always carried a pocketful of problems about with him.
+His fifteen years of study and unceasing slavery to his ambition had
+made him naturally as taciturn as these grim men of the North, who were
+born to silence. But to-night there had come a change over him. He
+wanted to talk. He wanted to ask questions. He longed for human
+companionship, for some kind of mental exhilaration beyond that
+furnished by his own thoughts. Feeling in his pocket for a cigar he
+seated himself before one of the windows and proffered it to the factor
+from Lac Bain.
+
+"You smoke?" he asked companionably.
+
+"I was born in a wigwam," said the factor slowly, taking the cigar.
+"Thank you."
+
+"Deuced polite for a man who hasn't seen civilization for three years,"
+thought Howland, seating himself comfortably, with his feet on the
+window-sill. Aloud he said, "The clerk tells me you are from Lac Bain.
+That's a good distance north, isn't it?"
+
+"Four hundred miles," replied the factor with quiet terseness. "We're on
+the edge of the Barren Lands."
+
+"Whew!" Howland shrugged his shoulders. Then he volunteered, "I'm going
+north myself to-morrow."
+
+"Post man?"
+
+"No; engineer. I'm putting through the Hudson Bay Railroad."
+
+He spoke the words quite clearly and as they fell from his lips the
+half-breed, partly concealed in the gloom behind him, straightened with
+the alert quickness of a cat. He leaned forward eagerly, his black eyes
+gleaming, and then rose softly from his seat. His moccasined feet made
+no sound as he came up behind Howland. It was the big huskie who first
+gave a sign of his presence. For a moment the upturned eyes of the young
+engineer met those of the half-breed. That look gave Howland a glimpse
+of a face which he could never forget--a thin, dark, sensitive face
+framed in shining, jet-black hair, and a pair of eyes that were the most
+beautiful he had ever seen in a man. Sometimes a look decides great
+friendship or bitter hatred between men. And something, nameless,
+unaccountable, passed between these two. Not until the half-breed had
+turned and was walking swiftly away did Howland realize that he wanted
+to speak to him, to grip him by the hand, to know him by name. He
+watched the slender form of the Northerner, as lithe and as graceful in
+its movement as a wild thing of the forests, until it passed from the
+door out into the night.
+
+"Who was that?" he asked, turning to the factor.
+
+"His name is Croisset. He comes from the Wholdaia country, beyond Lac la
+Ronge."
+
+"French?"
+
+"Half French, half Cree."
+
+The factor resumed his steady gaze out into the white distance of the
+night, and Howland gave up his effort at conversation. After a little
+his companion shoved back his chair and bade him good night. The Crees
+and Chippewayan followed him, and a few minutes later the two white
+hunters left the engineer alone before the windows.
+
+"Mighty funny people," he said half aloud. "Wonder if they ever talk!"
+
+He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face resting in his hands, and
+stared to catch a sign of moving life outside. In him there was no
+desire for sleep. Often he had called himself a night-bird, but seldom
+had he been more wakeful than on this night. The elation of his triumph,
+of his success, had not yet worn itself down to a normal and reasoning
+satisfaction, and his chief longing was for the day, and the day after
+that, and the next day, when he would take the place of Gregson and
+Thorne. Every muscle in his body was vibrant in its desire for action.
+He looked at his watch. It was only ten o'clock. Since supper he had
+smoked almost ceaselessly. Now he lighted another cigar and stood up
+close to one of the windows.
+
+Faintly he caught the sound of a step on the board walk outside. It was
+a light, quick step, and for an instant it hesitated, just out of his
+vision. Then it approached, and suddenly the figure of a woman stopped
+in front of the window. How she was dressed Howland could not have told
+a moment later. All that he saw was the face, white in the white
+night--a face on which the shimmering starlight fell as it was lifted to
+his gaze, beautiful, as clear-cut as a cameo, with eyes that looked up
+at him half-pleadingly, half-luringly, and lips parted, as if about to
+speak to him. He stared, moveless in his astonishment, and in another
+breath the face was gone.
+
+With a hurried exclamation he ran across the empty room to the door and
+looked down the starlit street. To go from the window to the door took
+him but a few seconds, yet he found the street deserted--deserted except
+for a solitary figure three blocks away and a dog that growled at him
+as he thrust out his head and shoulders. He heard no sound of footsteps,
+no opening or closing of a door. Only there came to him that faint,
+hissing music of the northern skies, and once more, from the black
+forest beyond the Saskatchewan, the infinite sadness of the wolf-howl.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+LIPS THAT SPEAK NOT
+
+Howland was not a man easily susceptible to a pair of eyes and a pretty
+face. The practical side of his nature was too much absorbed in its
+devices and schemes for the building of material things to allow the
+breaking in of romance. At least Howland had always complimented himself
+on this fact, and he laughed a little nervously as he went back to his
+seat near the window. He was conscious that a flush of unusual
+excitement had leaped into his cheeks and already the practical side of
+him was ashamed of that to which the romantic side had surrendered.
+
+"The deuce, but she was pretty!" he excused himself. "And those eyes--"
+
+Suddenly he checked himself. There had been more than the eyes; more
+than the pretty face! Why had the girl paused in front of the window?
+Why had she looked at him so intently, as though on the point of speech?
+The smile and the flush left his face as these questions came to him and
+he wondered if he had failed to comprehend something which she had meant
+him to understand. After all, might it not have been a case of mistaken
+identity? For a moment she had believed that she recognized him--then,
+seeing her mistake, had passed swiftly down the street. Under ordinary
+circumstances Howland would have accepted this solution of the incident.
+But to-night he was in an unusual mood, and it quickly occurred to him
+that even if his supposition were true it did not explain the pallor in
+the girl's face and the strange entreaty which had glowed for an instant
+in her eyes.
+
+Anyway it was none of his business, and he walked casually to the door.
+At the end of the street, a quarter of a mile distant, a red light
+burned feebly over the front of a Chinese restaurant, and in a
+mechanical fashion his footsteps led him in that direction.
+
+"I'll drop in and have a cup of tea," he assured himself, throwing away
+the stub of his cigar and filling his lungs with great breaths of the
+cold, dry air. "Lord, but it's a glorious night! I wish Van Horn
+could see it."
+
+He stopped and turned his eyes again into the North. Its myriad stars,
+white and unshivering, the elusive play of the mysterious lights
+hovering over the pole, and the black edge of the wilderness beyond the
+river were holding a greater and greater fascination for him. Since
+morning, when he had looked on that wilderness for the first time in his
+life, new blood had entered into him, and he rejoiced that it was this
+wonderful world which was to hold for him success and fortune. Never had
+he dreamed that the mere joy of living would appeal to him as it did
+now; that the act of breathing, of seeing, of looking on wonders in
+which his hands had taken no part in the making, would fill him with the
+indefinable pleasure which had suddenly become his experience. He
+wondered, as he still stood gazing into the infinity of that other
+world beyond the Saskatchewan, if romance was really quite dead in him.
+Always he had laughed at romance. Work--the grim reality of action, of
+brain fighting brain, of cleverness pitted against other men's
+cleverness--had almost brought him to the point of regarding romance in
+life as a peculiar illusion of fools--and women. But he was fair in his
+concessions, and to-night he acknowledged that he had enjoyed the
+romance of what he had seen and heard. And most of all, his blood had
+been stirred by the beautiful face that had looked at him from out of
+the night.
+
+The tuneless thrumming of a piano sounded behind him. As he passed
+through the low door of the restaurant a man and woman lurched past him
+and in their irresolute faces and leering stare he read the verification
+of his suspicions of the place. Through a second door he entered a large
+room filled with tables and chairs, and pregnant with strange odors. At
+one of the farther tables sat a long-queued Chinaman with his head
+bowed in his arms. Behind a counter stood a second, as motionless as an
+obelisk in the half gloom of the dimly illuminated room, his evil face
+challenging Howland as he entered. The sound of a piano came from above
+and with a bold and friendly nod the young engineer mounted a pair
+of stairs.
+
+"Tough joint," he muttered, falling into his old habit of communing with
+himself. "Hope they make good tea."
+
+At the sound of his footsteps on the stair the playing of the piano
+ceased. He was surprised at what greeted him above. In startling
+contrast to the loathsome environment below he entered a luxuriously
+appointed room, heavily hung with oriental tapestries, and with half a
+dozen onyx tables partially concealed behind screens and gorgeously
+embroidered silk curtains. At one of these he seated himself and
+signaled for service with the tiny bell near his hand. In response there
+appeared a young Chinaman with close-cropped hair and attired in
+evening dress.
+
+"A pot of tea," ordered Howland; and under his breath he added, "Pretty
+deuced good for a wilderness town! I wonder--"
+
+He looked about him curiously. Although it was only eleven o'clock the
+place appeared to be empty. Yet Howland was reasonably assured that it
+was not empty. He was conscious of sensing in a vague sort of way the
+presence of others somewhere near him. He was sure that there was a
+faint, acrid odor lurking above that of burned incense, and he shrugged
+his shoulders with conviction when he paid a dollar for his pot of tea.
+
+"Opium, as sure as your name is Jack Howland," he said, when the waiter
+was gone. "I wonder again--how many pots of tea do they sell in
+a night?"
+
+He sipped his own leisurely, listening with all the eagerness of the new
+sense of freedom which had taken possession of him. The Chinaman had
+scarcely disappeared when he heard footsteps on the stair. In another
+instant a low word of surprise almost leaped from his lips. Hesitating
+for a moment in the doorway, her face staring straight into his own,
+was the girl whom he had seen through the hotel window!
+
+For perhaps no more than five seconds their eyes met. Yet in that time
+there was painted on his memory a picture that Howland knew he would
+never forget. His was a nature, because of the ambition imposed on it,
+that had never taken more than a casual interest in the form and feature
+of women. He had looked on beautiful faces and had admired them in a
+cool, dispassionate way, judging them--when he judged at all--as he
+might have judged the more material workmanship of his own hands. But
+this face that was framed for a few brief moments in the door reached
+out to him and stirred an interest within him which was as new as it was
+pleasurable. It was a beautiful face. He knew that in a fraction of the
+first second. It was not white, as he had first seen it through the
+window. The girl's cheeks were flushed. Her lips were parted, and she
+was breathing quickly, as though from the effect of climbing the stair.
+But it was her eyes that sent Howland's blood a little faster through
+his veins. They were glorious eyes.
+
+The girl turned from his gaze and seated herself at a table so that he
+caught only her profile. The change delighted him. It afforded him
+another view of the picture that had appeared to him in the doorway, and
+he could study it without being observed in the act, though he was
+confident that the girl knew his eyes were on her. He refilled his tiny
+cup with tea and smiled when he noticed that she could easily have
+seated herself behind one of the screens. From the flush in her cheeks
+his eyes traveled critically to the rich glow of the light in her
+shining brown hair, which swept half over her ears in thick, soft waves,
+caught in a heavy coil low on her neck. Then, for the first time, he
+noticed her dress. It puzzled him. Her turban and muff were of deep gray
+lynx fur. Around her shoulders was a collarette of the same material.
+Her hands were immaculately gloved. In every feature of her lovely face,
+in every point of her dress, she bore the indisputable mark of
+refinement. The quizzical smile left his lips. The thoughts which at
+first had filled his mind as quickly disappeared. Who was she? Why
+was she here?
+
+With cat-like quietness the young Chinaman entered between the screens
+and stood beside her. On a small tablet which Howland had not before
+observed she wrote her order. It was for tea. He noticed that she gave
+the waiter a dollar bill in payment and that the Chinaman returned
+seventy-five cents to her in change.
+
+"Discrimination," he chuckled to himself. "Proof that she's not a
+stranger here, and knows the price of things."
+
+He poured his last half cup of tea and when he lifted his eyes he was
+surprised to find that the girl was looking at him. For a brief interval
+her gaze was steady and clear; then the flush deepened in her cheeks;
+her long lashes drooped as the cold gray of Howland's eyes met hers in
+unflinching challenge, and she turned to her tea. Howland noted that the
+hand which lifted the little Japanese pot was trembling slightly. He
+leaned forward, and as if impelled by the movement, the girl turned her
+face to him again, the tea-urn poised above her cup. In her dark eyes
+was an expression which half brought him to his feet, a wistful glow, a
+pathetic and yet half-frightened appeal to him. He rose, his eyes
+questioning her, and to his unspoken inquiry her lips formed themselves
+into a round, red O, and she nodded to the opposite side of her table.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said, seating himself. "May I give you my card?"
+
+He felt as if there was something brutally indecent in what he was doing
+and the knowledge of it sent a red flush to his cheeks. The girl read
+his name, smiled across the table at him, and with a pretty gesture,
+motioned him to bring his cup and share her tea with her. He returned to
+his table and when he came back with the cup in his hand she was writing
+on one of the pages of the tablet, which she passed across to him.
+
+"You must pardon me for not talking," he read. "I can hear you very
+well, but I, unfortunately, am a mute."
+
+He could not repress the low ejaculation of astonishment that came to
+his lips, and as his companion lifted her cup he saw in her face again
+the look that had stirred him so strangely when he stood in the window
+of the Hotel Windsor. Howland was not a man educated in the trivialities
+of chance flirtations. He lacked finesse, and now he spoke boldly and to
+the point, the honest candor of his gray eyes shining full on the girl.
+
+"I saw you from the hotel window to-night," he began, "and something in
+your face led me to believe that you were in trouble. That is why I have
+ventured to be so bold. I am the engineer in charge of the new Hudson
+Bay Railroad, just on my way to Le Pas from Chicago. I'm a stranger in
+town. I've never been in this--this place before. It's a very nice
+tea-room, an admirable blind for the opium stalls behind those walls."
+
+In a few terse words he had covered the situation, as he would have
+covered a similar situation in a business deal. He had told the girl
+who and what he was, had revealed the cause of his interest in her, and
+at the same time had given her to understand that he was aware of the
+nature of their present environment. Closely he watched the effect of
+his words and in another breath was sorry that he had been so blunt. The
+girl's eyes traveled swiftly about her; he saw the quick rise and fall
+of her bosom, the swift fading of the color in her cheeks, the
+affrighted glow in her eyes as they came back big and questioning
+to him.
+
+"I didn't know," she wrote quickly, and hesitated. Her face was as white
+now as when Howland had looked on it through the window. Her hand
+trembled nervously and for an instant her lip quivered in a way that set
+Howland's heart pounding tumultuously within him. "I am a stranger,
+too," she added. "I have never been in this place before. I came
+because--"
+
+She stopped, and the catching breath in her throat was almost a sob as
+she looked at Howland. He knew that it took an effort for her to write
+the next words.
+
+"I came because you came."
+
+"Why?" he asked. His voice was low and assuring. "Tell me--why?"
+
+He read her words as she wrote them, leaning half across the table in
+his eagerness.
+
+"I am a stranger," she repeated. "I want some one to help me.
+Accidentally I learned who you were and made up my mind to see you at
+the hotel, but when I got there I was afraid to go in. Then I saw you in
+the window. After a little you came out and I saw you enter here. I
+didn't know what kind of place it was and I followed you. Won't you
+please go with me--to where I am staying--and I will tell you--"
+
+She left the sentence unfinished, her eyes pleading with him. Without a
+word he rose and seized his hat.
+
+"I will go, Miss--" He laughed frankly into her face, inviting her to
+write her name. For a moment she smiled back at him, the color
+brightening her cheeks. Then she turned and hurried down the stair.
+
+Outside Howland gave her his arm. His eyes, passing above her, caught
+again the luring play of the aurora in the north. He flung back his
+shoulders, drank in the fresh air, and laughed in the buoyancy of the
+new life that he felt.
+
+"It's a glorious night!" he exclaimed.
+
+The girl nodded, and smiled up at him. Her face was very near to his
+shoulder, ever more beautiful in the white light of the stars.
+
+They did not look behind them. Neither heard the quiet fall of
+moccasined feet a dozen yards away. Neither saw the gleaming eyes and
+the thin, dark face of Jean Croisset, the half-breed, as they walked
+swiftly in the direction of the Saskatchewan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+THE MYSTERIOUS ATTACK
+
+Howland was glad that for a time there was an excuse for his silence. It
+began to dawn on him that this was an extraordinary adventure for a man
+on whose shoulders rested the responsibilities of one of the greatest
+engineering tasks on the continent, and who was due to take a train for
+the seat of his operations at eight o'clock in the morning. Inwardly he
+was experiencing some strange emotions; outwardly he smiled as he
+thought of what Van Horn would say if he knew the circumstances. He
+looked down at his companion; saw the sheen of her hair as it rippled
+out from under her fur turban, studied the soft contour of her cheek and
+chin, without himself being observed, and noticed, incidentally, that
+the top of the bewitching head beside him came just about to a level
+with his cigar which he was smoking. He wondered if he were making a
+fool of himself. If so, he assured himself that there was at least one
+compensation. This night in Prince Albert would not be so uninteresting
+as it had promised to be earlier in the evening.
+
+Where the river ferry was half drawn up on the shore, its stern frozen
+in the ice, he paused and looked down at the girl in quiet surprise. She
+nodded, smiling, and motioned across the river.
+
+"I was over there once to-night," said Howland aloud. "Didn't see any
+houses and heard nothing but wolves. Is that where we're going?"
+
+Her white teeth gleamed at him and he was conscious of a warm pressure
+against his arm as the girl signified that they were to cross. His
+perplexity increased. On the farther shore the forest came down to the
+river's edge in a black wall of spruce and balsam. Beyond that edge of
+the wilderness he knew that no part of Prince Albert intruded. It was
+possible that across from them was a squatter's cabin; and yet if this
+were so, and the girl was going to it, why had she told him that she was
+a stranger in the town? And why had she come to him for the assistance
+she promised to request of him instead of seeking it of those whom
+she knew?
+
+He asked himself these questions without putting them in words, and not
+until they were climbing up the frozen bank of the stream, with the
+shadows of the forest growing deeper about them, did he speak again.
+
+"You told me you were a stranger," he said, stopping his companion where
+the light of the stars fell on the face which she turned up to him. She
+smiled, and nodded affirmatively.
+
+"You seem pretty well acquainted over here," he persisted. "Where are we
+going?"
+
+This time she responded with an emphatic negative shake of her head, at
+the same time pointing with her free hand to the well-defined trail that
+wound up from the ferry landing into the forest. Earlier in the day
+Howland had been told that this was the Great North Trail that led into
+the vast wildernesses beyond the Saskatchewan. Two days before, the
+factor from Lac Bain, the Chippewayan and the Crees had come in over it.
+Its hard crust bore the marks of the sledges of Jean Croisset and the
+men from the Lac la Ronge country. Since the big snow, which had fallen
+four feet deep ten days before, a forest man had now and then used this
+trail on his way down to the edge of civilization; but none from Prince
+Albert had traveled it in the other direction. Howland had been told
+this at the hotel, and he shrugged his shoulders in candid bewilderment
+as he stared down into the girl's face. She seemed to understand his
+thoughts, and again her mouth rounded itself into that bewitching red O,
+which gave to her face an expression of tender entreaty, of pathetic
+grief that the soft lips were powerless to voice, the words which she
+wished to speak. Then, suddenly, she darted a few steps from Howland and
+with the toe of her shoe formed a single word in the surface of the
+snow. She rested her hand lightly on Howland's shoulder as he bent over
+to make it out in the elusive starlight.
+
+"Camp!" he cried, straightening himself. "Do you mean to say you're
+camping out here?"
+
+She nodded again and again, delighted that he understood her. There was
+something so childishly sweet in her face, in the gladness of her eyes,
+that Howland stretched out both his hands to her, laughing aloud. "You!"
+he exclaimed. "_You_--camping out here!" With a quick little movement
+she came to him, still laughing with her eyes and lips, and for an
+instant he held both her hands tight in his own. Her lovely face was
+dangerously near to him. He felt the touch of her breath on his face,
+for an instant caught the sweet scent of her hair. Never had he seen
+eyes like those that glowed up at him softly, filled with the gentle
+starlight; never in his life had he dreamed of a face like this, so near
+to him that it sent the blood leaping through his veins in strange
+excitement. He held the hands tighter, and the movement drew the girl
+closer to him, until for no more than a breath he felt her against his
+breast. In that moment he forgot all sense of time and place; forgot his
+old self--Jack Howland--practical, unromantic, master-builder of
+railroads; forgot everything but this presence of the girl, the warm
+pressure against his breast, the lure of the great brown eyes that had
+come so unexpectedly into his life. In another moment he had recovered
+himself. He drew a step back, freeing the girl's hands.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said softly. His cheeks burned hotly at what he
+had done, and turning squarely about he strode up the trail. He had not
+taken a dozen paces, when far ahead of him he saw the red glow of a
+fire. Then a hand caught his arm, clutching at it almost fiercely, and
+he turned to meet the girl's face, white now with a strange terror.
+
+"What is it?" he cried. "Tell me--"
+
+He caught her hands again, startled by the look in her eyes. Quickly she
+pulled herself away. A dozen feet behind her, in the thick shadows of
+the forest trees, something took shape and movement. In a flash Howland
+saw a huge form leap from the gloom and caught the gleam of an uplifted
+knife. There was no time for him to leap aside, no time for him to reach
+for the revolver which he carried in his pocket. In such a crisis one's
+actions are involuntary, machine-like, as if life, hovering by a thread,
+preserves itself in its own manner and without thought or reasoning on
+the part of the creature it animates.
+
+For an instant Howland neither thought nor reasoned. Had he done so he
+would probably have met his mysterious assailant, pitting his naked
+fists against the knife. But the very mainspring of his existence--which
+is self-preservation--called on him to do otherwise. Before the startled
+cry on his lips found utterance he flung himself face downward in the
+snow. The move saved him, and as the other stumbled over his body,
+pitching headlong into the trail, he snatched forth his revolver. Before
+he could fire there came a roar like that of a beast from behind him
+and a terrific blow fell on his head. Under the weight of a second
+assailant he was crushed to the snow, his pistol slipped from his grasp,
+and two great hands choked a despairing cry from his throat. He saw a
+face over him, distorted with passion, a huge neck, eyes that named like
+angry garnets. He struggled to free his pinioned arms, to wrench off the
+death-grip at his throat, but his efforts were like those of a child
+against a giant. In a last terrible attempt he drew up his knees inch by
+inch under the weight of his enemy; it was his only chance, his only
+hope. Even as he felt the fingers about his throat, sinking like hot
+iron into his flesh, and the breath slipping from his body, he
+remembered this murderous knee-punch taught to him by the rough fighters
+of the Inland Seas, and with all the life that remained in him he sent
+it crushing into the other's abdomen. It was a moment before he knew
+that it had been successful, before the film cleared from his eyes and
+he saw his assailant groveling in the snow. He rose to his feet, dazed
+and staggering from the effect of the blow on his head and the murderous
+grip at his throat. Half a pistol shot down the trail he saw
+indistinctly the twisting of black objects in the snow, and as he stared
+one of the objects came toward him.
+
+"Do not fire, M'seur Howland," he heard a voice call. "It ees I--Jean
+Croisset, a friend! Blessed Saints, that was--what you call heem?--close
+heem?--close call?"
+
+The half-breed's thin dark face came up smiling out of the white gloom.
+For a moment Howland did not see him, scarcely heard his words. Wildly
+he looked about him for the girl. She was gone.
+
+"I happened here--just in time--with a club," continued Croisset. "Come,
+we must go."
+
+The smile had gone from his face and there was a commanding firmness in
+the grip that fell on the young engineer's arm. Howland was conscious
+that things were twisting about him and that there was a strange
+weakness in his limbs. Dumbly he raised his hands to his head, which
+hurt him until he felt as if he must cry out in his pain.
+
+"The girl--" he gasped weakly.
+
+Croisset's arm tightened about his waist.
+
+"She ees gone!" Howland heard him say; and there was something in the
+half-breed's low voice that caused him to turn unquestioningly and
+stagger along beside him in the direction of Prince Albert.
+
+And yet as he went, only half-conscious of what he was doing, and
+leaning more and more heavily on his companion, he knew that it was more
+than the girl's disappearance that he wanted to understand. For as the
+blow had fallen on his head he was sure that he had heard a woman's
+scream; and as he lay in the snow, dazed and choking, spending his last
+effort in his struggle for life, there had come to him, as if from an
+infinite distance, a woman's voice, and the words that it had uttered
+pounded in his tortured brain now as his head dropped weakly against
+Croisset's shoulder.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, you are killing him--killing him!"
+
+He tried to repeat them aloud, but his voice sounded only in an
+incoherent murmur. Where the forest came down to the edge of the river
+the half-breed stopped.
+
+"I must carry you, M'seur Howland," he said; and as he staggered out on
+the ice with his inanimate burden, he spoke softly to himself, "The
+saints preserve me, but what would the sweet Meleese say if she knew
+that Jean Croisset had come so near to losing the life of this M'seur le
+engineer? _Ce monde est plein de fous!_"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+THE WARNING
+
+In only a subconscious sort of way was Howland cognizant of anything
+more that happened that night. When he came back into a full sense of
+his existence he found himself in his bed at the hotel. A lamp was
+burning low on the table. A glance showed him that the room was empty.
+He raised his head and shoulders from the pillows on which they were
+resting and the movement helped to bring him at once into a realization
+of what had happened. He was hurt. There was a dull, aching pain in his
+head and neck and when he raised an inquiring hand it came in contact
+with a thick bandage. He wondered if he were badly hurt and sank back
+again on the pillows, lying with his eyes staring at the faint glow of
+the lamp. Soon there came a sound at the door and he twisted his head,
+grimacing with the pain it caused him. Jean was looking in at him.
+
+"Ah, M'seur ees awake!" he said, seeing the wide-open eyes. He came in
+softly, closing the door behind him. "_Mon Dieu_, but if it had been a
+heavier club by the weight of a pound you would have gone into the
+blessed hereafter," he smiled, approaching with noiseless tread. He held
+a glass of water to Howland's lips.
+
+"Is it bad, Croisset?"
+
+"So bad that you will be in bed for a day or so, M'seur. That is all."
+
+"Impossible!" cried the young engineer. "I must take the eight o'clock
+train in the morning. I must be in Le Pas--"
+
+"It is five o'clock now," interrupted Jean softly. "Do you feel like
+going?"
+
+Howland straightened himself and fell back suddenly with a sharp cry.
+
+"The devil!" he exclaimed. After a moment he added, "There will be no
+other train for two days." As he raised a hand to his aching head, his
+other closed tightly about Jean's lithe brown fingers. "I want to thank
+you for what you did, Croisset. I don't know what happened. I don't know
+who they were or why they tried to kill me. There was a girl--I was
+going with her--"
+
+He dropped his hand in time to see the strange fire that had leaped into
+the half-breed's eyes. In astonishment he half lifted himself again, his
+white face questioning Croisset.
+
+"Do you know?" he whispered eagerly. "Who was she? Why did she lead me
+into that ambush? Why did they attempt to kill me?"
+
+The questions shot from him excitedly, and he knew from what he saw in
+the other's face that Croisset could have answered them. Yet from the
+thin tense lips above him there came no response. With a quick movement
+the half-breed drew away his hand and moved toward the door. Half way he
+paused and turned.
+
+"M'seur, I have come to you with a warning. Do not go to Le Pas. Do not
+go to the big railroad camp on the Wekusko. Return into the South." For
+an instant he leaned forward, his black eyes flashing, his hands
+clenched tightly at his sides. "Perhaps you will understand," he cried
+tensely, "when I tell you this warning is sent to you--by the
+little Meleese!"
+
+Before Howland could recover from his surprise Croisset had passed
+swiftly through the door. The engineer called his name, but there came
+no response other than the rapidly retreating sound of the Northerner's
+moccasined feet. With a grumble of vexation he sank back on his pillows.
+The fresh excitement had set his head in a whirl again and a feverish
+heat mounted into his face. For a long time he lay with his eyes closed,
+trying to clear for himself the mystery of the preceding night. The one
+thought which obsessed him was that he had been duped. His lovely
+acquaintance of the preceding evening had ensnared him completely with
+her gentle smile and her winsome mouth, and he gritted his teeth grimly
+as he reflected how easy he had been. Deliberately she had lured him
+into the ambush which would have proved fatal for him had it not been
+for Jean Croisset. And she was not a mute! He had heard her voice; when
+that death-grip was tightest about his throat there had come to him that
+terrified cry: "_Mon Dieu_, you are killing him--killing him!"
+
+His breath came a little faster as he whispered the words to himself.
+They appealed to him now with a significance which he had not understood
+at first. He was sure that in that cry there had been real terror;
+almost, he fancied, as he lay with his eyes shut tight, that he could
+still hear the shrill note of despair in the voice. The more he tried to
+reason the situation, the more inexplicable grew the mystery of it all.
+If the girl had calmly led him into the ambush, why, in the last moment,
+when success seemed about to crown her duplicity, had she cried out in
+that agony of terror? In Howland's heated brain there came suddenly a
+vision of her as she stood beside him in the white trail; he felt again
+the thrill of her hands, the touch of her breast for a moment against
+his own; saw the gentle look that had come into her deep, pure eyes; the
+pathetic tremor of the lips which seemed bravely striving to speak to
+him. Was it possible that face and eyes like those could have led him
+into a deathtrap! Despite the evidence of what had happened he found
+himself filled with doubt. And yet, after all, she had lied to him--for
+she was not a mute!
+
+He turned over with a groan and watched the door. When Croisset returned
+he would insist on knowing more about the strange occurrence, for he was
+sure that the half-breed could clear away at least a part of the
+mystery. Vainly, as he watched and waited, he racked his mind to find
+some reason for the murderous attack on himself. Who was "the little
+Meleese," whom Croisset declared had sent the warning? So far as he
+could remember he had never known a person by that name. And yet the
+half-breed had uttered it as though it would carry a vital meaning to
+him. "Perhaps you will understand," he had said, and Howland strove to
+understand, until his brain grew dizzy and a nauseous sickness
+overcame him.
+
+The first light of the day was falling faintly through the window when
+footsteps sounded outside the door again. It was not Croisset who
+appeared this time, but the proprietor himself, bearing with him a tray
+on which there was toast and a steaming pot of coffee. He nodded and
+smiled as he saw Howland half sitting up.
+
+"Bad fall you had," he greeted, drawing a small table close beside the
+bed. "This snow is treacherous when you're climbing among the rocks.
+When it caves in with you on the side of a mountain you might as well
+make up your mind you're going to get a good bump. Good thing Croisset
+was with you!"
+
+For a few moments Howland was speechless.
+
+"Yes--it--was--a--bad--fall," he replied at last, looking sharply at the
+other. "Where is Croisset?"
+
+"Gone. He left an hour ago with his dogs. Funny fellow--that Croisset!
+Came in yesterday from the Lac la Ronge country a hundred miles north;
+goes back to-day. No apparent reason for his coming, none for his going,
+that I can see."
+
+"Do you know anything about him?" asked Howland a little eagerly.
+
+"No. He comes in about once or twice a year."
+
+The young engineer munched his toast and drank his coffee for some
+moments in silence. Then, casually, he asked,
+
+"Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Meleese?"
+
+"Meleese--Meleese--Meleese--" repeated the hotel man, running a hand
+through his hair. "It seems to me that the name is familiar--and yet I
+can't remember--" He caught himself in sudden triumph. "Ah, I have it!
+Two years ago I had a kitchen woman named Meleese."
+
+Howland shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"This was a young woman," he said.
+
+"The Meleese we had is dead," replied the proprietor cheerfully, rising
+to go. "I'll send up for your tray in half an hour or so, Mr. Howland."
+
+Several hours later Howland crawled from his bed and bathed his head in
+cold water. After that he felt better, dressed himself, and went below.
+His head pained him considerably, but beyond that and an occasional
+nauseous sensation the injury he had received in the fight caused him no
+very great distress. He went in to dinner and by the middle of the
+afternoon was so much improved that he lighted his first cigar and
+ventured out into the bracing air for a short walk. At first it occurred
+to him that he might make inquiries at the Chinese restaurant regarding
+the identity of the girl whom he had met there, but he quickly changed
+his mind, and crossing the river he followed the trail which they had
+taken the preceding night. For a few moments he contemplated the marks
+of the conflict in the snow. Where he had first seen the half-breed
+there were blotches of blood on the crust.
+
+"Good for Croisset!" Howland muttered; "good for Croisset. It looks as
+though he used a knife."
+
+He could see where the wounded man had dragged himself up the trail,
+finally staggering to his feet, and with a caution which he had not
+exercised a few hours before Howland continued slowly between the thick
+forest walls, one hand clutching the butt of the revolver in his coat
+pocket. Where the trail twisted abruptly into the north he found the
+charred remains of a camp-fire in a small open, and just beyond it a
+number of birch toggles, which had undoubtedly been used in place of
+tent-stakes. With the toe of his boot he kicked among the ashes and
+half-burned bits of wood. There was no sign of smoke, not a living spark
+to give evidence that human presence had been there for many hours.
+There was but one conclusion to make; soon after their unsuccessful
+attempt on his life his strange assailants had broken camp and fled.
+With them, in all probability, had gone the girl whose soft eyes and
+sweet face had lured him within their reach.
+
+But where had they gone?
+
+Carefully he examined the abandoned camp. In the hard crust were the
+imprints of dogs' claws. In several places he found the faint, broad
+impression made by a toboggan. The marks at least cleared away the
+mystery of their disappearance. Sometime during the night they had fled
+by dog-sledge into the North.
+
+He was tired when he returned to the hotel and it was rather with a
+sense of disappointment than pleasure that he learned the work-train was
+to leave for Le Pas late that night instead of the next day. After a
+quiet hour's rest in his room, however, his old enthusiasm returned to
+him. He found himself feverishly anxious to reach Le Pas and the big
+camp on the Wekusko. Croisset's warning for him to turn back into the
+South, instead of deterring him, urged him on. He was born a fighter. It
+was by fighting that he had forced his way round by round up the ladder
+of success. And now the fact that his life was in danger, that some
+mysterious peril awaited him in the depths of the wilderness, but added
+a new and thrilling fascination to the tremendous task which was ahead
+of him. He wondered if this same peril had beset Gregson and Thorne, and
+if it was the cause of their failure, of their anxiety to return to
+civilization. He assured himself that he would know when he met them at
+Le Pas. He would discover more when he became a part of the camp on the
+Wekusko; that is, if the half-breed's warning held any significance at
+all, and he believed that it did. Anyway, he would prepare for
+developments. So he went to a gun-shop, bought a long-barreled
+six-shooter and a holster, and added to it a hunting-knife like that he
+had seen carried by Croisset.
+
+It was near midnight when he boarded the work-train and dawn was just
+beginning to break over the wilderness when it stopped at Etomami, from
+which point he was to travel by hand-car over the sixty miles of new
+road that had been constructed as far north as Le Pas. For three days
+the car had been waiting for the new chief of the road, but neither
+Gregson nor Thorne was with it.
+
+"Mr. Gregson is waiting for you at Le Pas," said one of the men who had
+come with it. "Thorne is at Wekusko."
+
+For the first time in his life Howland now plunged into the heart of the
+wilderness, and as mile after mile slipped behind them and he sped
+deeper into the peopleless desolation of ice and snow and forest his
+blood leaped in swift excitement, in the new joy of life which he was
+finding up here under the far northern skies. Seated on the front of the
+car, with the four men pumping behind him, he drank in the wild beauties
+of the forests and swamps through which they slipped, his eyes
+constantly on the alert for signs of the big game which his companions
+told him was on all sides of them.
+
+Everywhere about them lay white winter. The rocks, the trees, and the
+great ridges, which in this north country are called mountains, were
+covered with four feet of snow and on it the sun shone with dazzling
+brilliancy. But it was not until a long grade brought them to the top of
+one of these ridges and Howland looked into the north that he saw the
+wilderness in all of its grandeur. As the car stopped he sprang to his
+feet with a joyous cry, his face aflame with what he saw ahead of him.
+Stretching away under his eyes, mile after mile, was the vast white
+desolation that reached to Hudson Bay. In speechless wonder he gazed
+down on the unblazed forests, saw plains and hills unfold themselves as
+his vision gained distance, followed a frozen river until it was lost in
+the bewildering picture, and let his eyes rest here and there on the
+glistening, snow-smothered bosoms of lakes, rimmed in by walls of black
+forest. This was not the wilderness as he had expected it to be, nor as
+he had often read of it in books. It was not the wilderness that Gregson
+and Thorne had described in their letters. It was beautiful! It was
+magnificent! His heart throbbed with pleasure as he gazed down on it,
+the flush grew deeper in his face, and he seemed hardly to breathe in
+his tense interest.
+
+One of the four on the car was an old Indian and it was he, strangely
+enough, who broke the silence. He had seen the look in Howland's face,
+and he spoke softly, close to his ear, "Twent' t'ousand moose down
+there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No man--no house--more twent'
+t'ousand miles!"
+
+Howland, even quivering in his new emotion, looked into the old
+warrior's eyes, filled with the curious, thrilling gleam of the spirit
+which was stirring within himself. Then again he stared straight out
+into the unending distance as though his vision would penetrate far
+beyond the last of that visible desolation--on and on, even to the grim
+and uttermost fastnesses of Hudson Bay; and as he looked he knew that in
+these moments there had been born in him a new spirit, a new being; that
+no longer was he the old Jack Howland whose world had been confined by
+office walls and into whose conception of life there had seldom entered
+things other than those which led directly toward the achievement of his
+ambitions.
+
+The short northern day was nearing an end when once more they saw the
+broad Saskatchewan twisting through a plain below them, and on its
+southern shore the few log buildings of Le Pas hemmed in on three sides
+by the black forests of balsam and spruce. Lights were burning in the
+cabins and in the Hudson Bay Post's store when the car was brought to a
+halt half a hundred paces from a squat, log-built structure, which was
+more brilliantly illuminated than any of the others.
+
+"That's the hotel," said one of the men. "Gregson's there."
+
+A tall, fur-clad figure hurried forth to meet Howland as he walked
+briskly across the open. It was Gregson. As the two men gripped hands
+the young engineer stared at the other in astonishment. This was not
+the Gregson he had known in the Chicago office, round-faced, full of
+life, as active as a cricket.
+
+"Never so glad to see any one in my life, Howland!" he cried, shaking
+the other's hand again and again. "Another month and I'd be dead. Isn't
+this a hell of a country?"
+
+"I'm falling more in love with it at every breath, Gregson. What's the
+matter? Have you been sick?"
+
+Gregson laughed as they turned toward the lighted building. It was a
+short, nervous laugh, and with it he gave a curious sidewise glance at
+his companion's face.
+
+"Sick?--yes, sick of the job! If the old man hadn't sent us relief
+Thorne and I would have thrown up the whole thing in another four weeks.
+I'll warrant you'll get your everlasting fill of log shanties and
+half-breeds and moose meat and this infernal snow and ice before spring
+comes. But I don't want to discourage you."
+
+"Can't discourage me!" laughed Howland cheerfully. "You know I never
+cared much for theaters and girls," he added slyly, giving Gregson a
+good-natured nudge. "How about 'em up here?"
+
+"Nothing--not a cursed thing." Suddenly his eyes lighted up. "By George,
+Howland, but I _did_ see the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on
+to-day! I'd give a box of pure Havanas--and we haven't had one for a
+month!--if I could know who she is!"
+
+They had entered through the low door of the log boarding-house and
+Gregson was throwing off his heavy coat.
+
+"A tall girl, with a fur hat and muff?" queried Howland eagerly.
+
+"Nothing of the sort. She was a typical Northerner if there ever was
+one--straight as a birch, dressed in fur cap and coat, short caribou
+skin skirt and moccasins, and with a braid hanging down her back as long
+as my arm. Lord, but she was pretty!"
+
+"Isn't there a girl somewhere up around our camp named Meleese?" asked
+Howland casually.
+
+"Never heard of her," said Gregson.
+
+"Or a man named Croisset?"
+
+"Never heard of him."
+
+"The deuce, but you're interesting," laughed the young engineer,
+sniffing at the odors of cooking supper. "I'm as hungry as a bear!"
+
+From outside there came the sharp cracking of a sledge-driver's whip and
+Gregson went to one of the small windows looking out upon the clearing.
+In another instant he sprang toward the door, crying out to Howland,
+
+"By the god of love, there she is, old man! Quick, if you want to get a
+glimpse of her!"
+
+He flung the door open and Howland hurried to his side. There came
+another crack of the whip, a loud shout, and a sledge drawn by six dogs
+sped past them into the gathering gloom of the early night.
+
+From Howland's lips, too, there fell a sudden cry; for one of the two
+faces that were turned toward him for an instant was that of Croisset,
+and the other--white and staring as he had seen it that first night in
+Prince Albert--was the face of the beautiful girl who had lured him into
+the ambush on the Great North Trail!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+HOWLAND'S MIDNIGHT VISITOR
+
+For a moment after the swift passing of the sledge it was on Howland's
+lips to shout Croisset's name; as he thrust Gregson aside and leaped out
+into the night he was impelled with a desire to give chase, to overtake
+in some way the two people who, within the space of forty-eight hours,
+had become so mysteriously associated with his own life, and who were
+now escaping him again.
+
+It was Gregson who recalled him to his senses.
+
+"I thought you didn't care for theaters--_and girls_, Howland," he
+exclaimed banteringly, repeating Howland's words of a few minutes
+before. "A pretty face affects you a little differently up here, eh?
+Well, after you've been in this fag-end of the universe for a month or
+so you'll learn--"
+
+Howland interrupted him sharply.
+
+"Did you ever see either of them before, Gregson?"
+
+"Never until to-day. But there's hope, old man. Surely we can find some
+one in the place who knows them. Wouldn't it be jolly good fun if Jack
+Howland, Esquire, who has never been interested in theaters and girls,
+should come up into these God-forsaken regions and develop a case of
+love at first sight? By the Great North Trail, I tell you it may not be
+as uninteresting for you as it has been for Thorne and me! If I had only
+seen her sooner--"
+
+"Shut up!" growled Howland, betraying irritability for the first time.
+"Let's go in to supper."
+
+"Good. And I move that we investigate these people while we are smoking
+our after-supper cigars. It will pass our time away, at least."
+
+"Your taste is good, Gregson," said Howland, recovering his good-humor
+as they seated themselves at one of the rough board tables in the
+dining-room. Inwardly he was convinced it would be best to keep to
+himself the incidents of the past two days and nights. "It was a
+beautiful face."
+
+"And the eyes!" added Gregson, his own gleaming with enthusiasm. "She
+looked at me squarely this afternoon when she and that dark fellow
+passed, and I swear they're the most beautiful eyes I ever saw. And
+her hair--"
+
+"Do you think that she knew you?" asked Howland quietly.
+
+Gregson hunched his shoulders.
+
+"How the deuce could she know me?"
+
+"Then why did she look at you so 'squarely?' Trying to flirt, do you
+suppose?"
+
+Surprise shot into Gregson's face.
+
+"By thunder, no, she wasn't flirting!" he exclaimed. "I'd stake my life
+on that. A man never got a clearer, more sinless look than she gave me,
+and yet--Why, deuce take it, she _stared_ at me! I didn't see her again
+after that, but the dark fellow was in here half of the afternoon, and
+now that I come to think of it he did show some interest in me. Why
+do you ask?"
+
+"Just curiosity," replied Howland, "I don't like flirts."
+
+"Neither do I," said Gregson musingly. Their supper came on and they
+conversed but little until its end. Howland had watched his companion
+closely and was satisfied that he knew nothing of Croisset or the girl.
+The fact puzzled him more than ever. How Gregson and Thorne, two of the
+best engineers in the country, could voluntarily surrender a task like
+the building of the Hudson Bay Railroad simply because they were "tired
+of the country" was more than he could understand.
+
+It was not until they were about to leave the table that Howland's eyes
+accidentally fell on Gregson's left hand. He gave an exclamation of
+astonishment when he saw that the little finger was missing. Gregson
+jerked the hand to his side.
+
+"A little accident," he explained. "You'll meet 'em up here, Howland."
+
+Before he could move, the young engineer had caught his arm and was
+looking closely at the hand.
+
+"A curious wound," he remarked, without looking up. "Funny I didn't
+notice it before. Your finger was cut off lengthwise, and here's the
+scar running half way to your wrist. How did you do it?"
+
+He dropped the hand in time to see a nervous flush in the other's face.
+
+"Why--er--fact is, Howland, it was shot off several months ago--in an
+accident, of course." He hurried through the door, continuing to speak
+over his shoulder as he went, "Now for those after-supper cigars and our
+investigation."
+
+As they passed from the dining-room into that part of the inn which was
+half bar and half lounging-room, already filled with smoke and a dozen
+or so picturesque citizens of Le Pas, the rough-jowled proprietor of the
+place motioned to Howland and held out a letter.
+
+"This came while you was at supper, Mr. Howland," he explained.
+
+The engineer gave an inward start when he saw the writing on the
+envelope, and as he tore it open he turned so that Gregson could see
+neither his face nor the slip of paper which he drew forth. There was no
+name at the bottom of what he read. It was not necessary, for a glance
+had told him that the writing was that of the girl whose face he had
+seen again that night; and her words to him this time, despite his
+caution, drew a low whistle from his lips.
+
+"Forgive me for what I have done," the note ran. "Believe me now. Your
+life is in danger and you must go back to Etomami to-morrow. If you go
+to the Wekusko camp you will not live to come back."
+
+"The devil!" he exclaimed.
+
+"What's that?" asked Gregson, edging around him curiously.
+
+Howland crushed the note in his hand and thrust it into one of his
+pockets.
+
+"A little private affair," he laughed. "Comes Gregson, let's see what
+we can discover."
+
+In the gloom outside one of his hands slipped under his coat and rested
+on the butt of his revolver. Until ten o'clock they mixed casually among
+the populace of Le Pas. Half a hundred people had seen Croisset and his
+beautiful companion, but no one knew anything about them. They had come
+that forenoon on a sledge, had eaten their dinner and supper at the
+cabin of a Scotch tie-cutter named MacDonald, and had left on a sledge.
+
+"She was the sweetest thing I ever saw," exclaimed Mrs. MacDonald
+rapturously. "Only she couldn't talk. Two or three times she wrote
+things to me on a slip of paper."
+
+"Couldn't talk!" repeated Gregson, as the two men walked leisurely back
+to the boarding-house. "What the deuce do you suppose that means, Jack?"
+
+"I'm not supposing," replied Howland indifferently. "We've had enough of
+this pretty face, Gregson. I'm going to bed. What time do we start in
+the morning?"
+
+"As soon as we've had breakfast--if you're anxious."
+
+"I am. Good night."
+
+Howland went to his room, but it was not to sleep. For hours he sat
+wide-awake, smoking cigar after cigar, and thinking. One by one he went
+over the bewildering incidents of the past two days. At first they had
+stirred his blood with a certain exhilaration--a spice of excitement
+which was not at all unpleasant; but with this excitement there was now
+a peculiar sense of oppression. The attempt that had already been made
+on his life together with the persistent warnings for him to return into
+the South began to have their effect. But Howland was not a man to
+surrender to his fears, if they could be called fears. He was satisfied
+that a mysterious peril of some kind awaited him at the camp on the
+Wekusko, but he gave up trying to fathom the reason for this peril,
+accepting in his businesslike way the fact that it did exist, and that
+in a short time it would probably explain itself. The one puzzling
+factor which he could not drive out of his thoughts was the girl. Her
+sweet face haunted him. At every turn he saw it--now over the table in
+the opium den, now in the white starlight of the trail, again as it had
+looked at him for an instant from the sledge. Vainly he strove to
+discover for himself the lurking of sin in the pure eyes that had seemed
+to plead for his friendship, in the soft lips that had lied to him
+because of their silence. "Please forgive me for what I have done--" He
+unfolded the crumpled note and read the words again and again. "Believe
+me now--" She knew that he knew that she had lied to him, that she had
+lured him into the danger from which she now wished to save him. His
+cheeks burned. If a thousand perils threatened him on the Wekusko he
+would still go. He would meet the girl again. Despite his strongest
+efforts he found it impossible to destroy the vision of her beautiful
+face. The eyes, soft with appeal; the red mouth, quivering, and with
+lips parted as if about to speak to him; the head as he had looked down
+on it with its glory of shining hair--all had burned themselves on his
+soul in a picture too deep to be eradicated. If the wilderness was
+interesting to him before it was doubly so now because that face was a
+part of it, because the secret of its life, of the misery that it had
+half confessed to him, was hidden somewhere out in the black mystery of
+the spruce and balsam forests.
+
+He went to bed, but it was a long time before he fell asleep. It seemed
+to him that he had scarcely closed his eyes when a pounding on the door
+aroused him and he awoke to find the early light of dawn creeping
+through the narrow window of his room. A few minutes later he joined
+Gregson, who was ready for breakfast.
+
+"The sledge and dogs are waiting," he greeted. As they seated themselves
+at the table he added, "I've changed my mind since last night, Howland.
+I'm not going back with you. It's absolutely unnecessary, for Thorne
+can put you on to everything at the camp, and I'd rather lose six
+months' salary than take that sledge ride again. You won't mind,
+will you?"
+
+Howland hunched his shoulders.
+
+"To be honest, Gregson, I don't believe you'd be particularly cheerful
+company. What sort of fellow is the driver?"
+
+"We call him Jackpine--a Cree Indian--and he's the one faithful slave of
+Thorne and myself at Wekusko. Hunts for us, cooks for us, and watches
+after things generally. You'll like him all right."
+
+Howland did. When they went out to the sledge after their breakfast he
+gave Jackpine a hearty grip of the hand and the Cree's dark face lighted
+up with something like pleasure when he saw the enthusiasm in the young
+engineer's eyes. When the moment for parting came Gregson pulled his
+companion a little to one side. His eyes shifted nervously and Howland
+saw that he was making a strong effort to assume an indifference which
+was not at all Gregson's natural self.
+
+"Just a word, Howland," he said. "You know this is a pretty rough
+country up here--some tough people in it, who wouldn't mind cutting a
+man's throat or sending a bullet through him for a good team of dogs and
+a rifle. I'm just telling you this so you'll be on your guard. Have
+Jackpine watch your camp nights."
+
+He spoke in a low voice and cut himself short when the Indian
+approached. Howland seated himself in the middle of the six-foot
+toboggan, waved his hand to Gregson, then with a wild halloo and a
+snapping of his long caribou-gut whip Jackpine started his dogs on a
+trot down the street, running close beside the sledge. Howland had
+lighted a cigar, and leaning back in a soft mass of furs began to enjoy
+his new experience hugely. Day was just fairly breaking over the forests
+when they turned into the white trail, already beaten hard by the
+passing of many dogs and sledges, that led from Le Pas for a hundred
+miles to the camp on the Wekusko. As they struck the trail the dogs
+strained harder at their traces, with Jackpine's whip curling and
+snapping over their backs until they were leaping swiftly and with
+unbroken rhythm of motion over the snow. Then the Cree gathered in his
+whip and ran close to the leader's flank, his moccasined feet taking the
+short, quick, light steps of the trained forest runner, his chest thrown
+a little out, his eyes on the twisting trail ahead. It was a glorious
+ride, and in the exhilaration of it Howland forgot to smoke the cigar
+that he held between his fingers. His blood thrilled to the tireless
+effort of the grayish-yellow pack of magnificent brutes ahead of him; he
+watched the muscular play of their backs and legs, the eager
+out-reaching of their wolfish heads, their half-gaping jaws, and from
+them he looked at Jackpine. There was no effort in his running. His
+black hair swept back from the gray of his cap; like the dogs there was
+music in his movement, the beauty of strength, of endurance, of manhood
+born to the forests, and when the dogs finally stopped at the foot of a
+huge ridge, panting and half exhausted, Howland quickly leaped from the
+sledge and for the first time spoke to the Indian.
+
+"That was glorious, Jackpine!" he cried. "But, good Lord, man, you'll
+kill the dogs!"
+
+Jackpine grinned.
+
+"They go sixt' mile in day lak dat," He grinned.
+
+"Sixty miles!"
+
+In his admiration for the wolfish looking beasts that were carrying him
+through the wilderness Howland put out a hand to stroke one of them on
+the head. With a warning cry the Indian jerked him back just as the dog
+snapped fiercely at the extended hand.
+
+"No touch huskie!" he exclaimed. "Heem half wolf--half dog--work hard
+but no lak to be touch!"
+
+"Wow!" exclaimed Howland. "And they're the sweetest looking pups I ever
+laid eyes on. I'm certainly running up against some strange things in
+this country!"
+
+He was dead tired when night came. And yet never in all his life had he
+enjoyed a day so much as this one. Twenty times he had joined Jackpine
+in running beside the sledge. In their intervals of rest he had even
+learned to snap the thirty-foot caribou-gut lash of the dog-whip. He had
+asked a hundred questions, had insisted on Jackpine's smoking a cigar at
+every stop, and had been so happy and so altogether companionable that
+half of the Cree's hereditary reticence had been swept away before his
+unbounded enthusiasm. He helped to build their balsam shelter for the
+night, ate a huge supper of moose meat, hot-stone biscuits, beans and
+coffee, and then, just as he had stretched himself out in his furs for
+the night, he remembered Gregson's warning. He sat up and called to
+Jackpine, who was putting a fresh log on the big fire in front of
+the shelter.
+
+"Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night,
+Jackpine. What do you think about it?"
+
+The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a
+grin.
+
+"Gregson--heem ver' much 'fraid," he replied. "No bad man here--all down
+there and in camp. We kep' watch evr' night. Heem 'fraid--I guess
+so, mebby."
+
+"Afraid of what?"
+
+For a moment Jackpine was silent, half bending over the fire. Then he
+held out his left hand, with the little finger doubled out of sight, and
+pointed to it with his other hand.
+
+"Mebby heem finger ax'dent--mebby not," he said.
+
+A dozen eager questions brought no further suggestions from Jackpine. In
+fact, no sooner had the words fallen from his driver's lips than Howland
+saw that the Indian was sorry he had spoken them. What he had said
+strengthened the conviction which was slowly growing within him. He had
+wondered at Gregson's strange demeanor, his evident anxiety to get out
+of the country, and lastly at his desire not to return to the camp on
+the Wekusko with him. There was but one solution that came to him. In
+some way which he could not fathom Gregson was associated with the
+mystery which enveloped him, and adding the senior engineer's
+nervousness to the significance of Jackpine's words he was confident
+that the missing finger had become a factor in the enigma. How should he
+find Thorne? Surely he would give him an explanation--if there was an
+explanation to give. Or was it possible that they would leave him
+without warning to face a situation which was driving them back to
+civilization?
+
+He went to sleep, giving no further thought to the guarding of the camp.
+A piping hot breakfast was ready when Jackpine awakened him, and once
+more the exhilarating excitement of their swift race through the forests
+relieved him of the uncomfortable mental tension under which he began to
+find himself. During the whole of the day Jackpine urged the dogs
+almost to the limit of their endurance, and early in the afternoon
+assured his companion that they would reach the Wekusko by nightfall. It
+was already dark when they came out of the forest into a broad stretch
+of cutting beyond which Howland caught the glimmer of scattered lights.
+At the farther edge of the clearing the Cree brought his dogs to a halt
+close to a large log-built cabin half sheltered among the trees. It was
+situated several hundred yards from the nearest of the lights ahead, and
+the unbroken snow about it showed that it had not been used as a
+habitation for some time. Jackpine drew a key from his pocket and
+without a word unlocked and swung open the heavy door.
+
+Damp, cold air swept into the faces of the two as they stood for a
+moment peering into the gloom. Howland could hear the Cree chuckling in
+his inimitable way as he struck a match, and as a big hanging oil lamp
+flared slowly into light he turned a grinning face to the engineer.
+
+"Gregson um Thorne--heem mak' thees cabin when first kam to camp," he
+said softly. "No be near much noise--fine place in woods where be quiet
+nights. Live here time--then Gregson um Thorne go live in camp. Say too
+far 'way from man. But that not so. Thorne 'fraid--Gregson 'fraid--"
+
+He hunched his shoulders again as he opened the door of the big box
+stove which stood in the room.
+
+Howland asked no questions, but stared about him. Everywhere he saw
+evidences of the taste and one-time tenancies of the two senior
+engineers. Heavy bear rugs lay on the board floor; the log walls, hewn
+almost to polished smoothness, were hung with half a dozen pictures; in
+one corner was a bookcase still filled with books, in another a lounge
+covered with furs, and in this side of the room was a door which Howland
+supposed must open into the sleeping apartment. A fire was roaring in
+the big stove before he finished his inspection and as he squared his
+shivering back to the heat he pulled out his pipe and smiled cheerfully
+at Jackpine.
+
+"Afraid, eh? And am I to stay here?"
+
+"Gregson um Thorne say yes."
+
+"Well, Jackpine, you just hustle over to the camp and tell Thorne I'm
+here, will you?"
+
+For a moment the Indian hesitated, then went out and closed the door
+after him.
+
+"Afraid!" exclaimed Howland when he had gone. "Now what the devil are
+they afraid of? It's deuced queer, Gregson--and ditto, Thorne. If you're
+not the cowards I'm half believing you to be you won't leave me in the
+dark to face something from which you are running away."
+
+He lighted a small lamp and opened the door leading into the other room.
+It was, as he had surmised, the sleeping chamber. The bed, a single
+chair and a mirror and stand were its sole furnishing.
+
+Returning to the larger room, he threw off his coat and hat and seated
+himself comfortably before the fire. Ten minutes later the door opened
+again and Jackpine entered. He was supporting another figure by the arm,
+and as Howland stared into the bloodless face of the man who came with
+him, he could not repress the exclamation of astonishment which rose to
+his lips. Three months before he had last seen Thorne in Chicago; a man
+in the prime of life, powerfully built, as straight as a tree, the most
+efficient and highest paid man in the company's employ. How often had he
+envied Thorne! For years he had been his ideal of a great engineer.
+And now--
+
+He stood speechless. Slowly, as if the movement gave him pain, Thorne
+slipped off the great fur coat from about his shoulders. One of his arms
+was suspended in a sling. His huge shoulders were bent, his eyes wild
+and haggard. The smile that came to his lips as he held out a hand to
+Howland gave to his death-white face an appearance even more ghastly.
+
+"Hello, Jack!" he greeted. "What's the matter, man? Do I look like a
+ghost?"
+
+"What is the matter, Thorne? I found Gregson half dying at Le Pas, and
+now you--"
+
+"It's a wonder you're not reading my name on a little board slab instead
+of seeing yours truly in flesh and blood, Jack," laughed Thorne
+nervously. "A ton of rock, man--a ton of rock, and I was under it!"
+
+Over Thorne's shoulder the young engineer caught a glimpse of the Cree's
+face. A dark flash had shot into his eyes. His teeth gleamed for an
+instant between his tense lips in something that might have been
+a sneer.
+
+Thorne sat down, rubbing his hands before the fire.
+
+"We've been unfortunate, Jack," he said slowly. "Gregson and I have had
+the worst kind of luck since the day we struck this camp, and we're no
+longer fit for the job. It will take us six months to get on our feet
+again. You'll find everything here in good condition. The line is blazed
+straight to the bay; we've got three hundred good men, plenty of
+supplies, and so far as I know you'll not find a disaffected hand on
+the Wekusko. Probably Gregson and I will take hold of the Le Pas end of
+the line in the spring. It's certainly up to you to build the roadway
+to the bay."
+
+"I'm sorry things have gone badly," replied Howland. He leaned forward
+until his face was close to his companion's. "Thorne, is there a man up
+here named Croisset--or a girl called Meleese?"
+
+He watched the senior engineer closely. Nothing to confirm his
+suspicions came into Thorne's face. Thorne looked up, a little surprised
+at the tone of the other's voice.
+
+"Not that I know of, Jack. There may be a man named Croisset among our
+three hundred workers--you can tell by looking at the pay-roll. There
+are fifteen or twenty married men among us and they have families.
+Gregson knows more about the girls than I. Anything particular?"
+
+"Just a word I've got for them--if they're here," replied Howland
+carelessly. "Are these my quarters?"
+
+"If you like them. When I got hurt we moved up among the men. Brought us
+into closer touch with the working end, you know."
+
+"You and Gregson must have been laid up at about the same time," said
+the young engineer. "That was a painful wound of Gregson's. I wonder who
+the deuce it was who shot him? Funny that a man like Gregson should have
+an enemy!"
+
+Thorne sat up with a jerk. There came the rattle of a pan from the
+stove, and Howland turned his head in time to see Jackpine staring at
+him as though he had exploded a mine under his feet.
+
+"Who shot him?" gasped the senior engineer. "Why--er--didn't Gregson
+tell you that it was an accident?"
+
+"Why should he lie, Thorne?"
+
+A faint flush swept into the other's pallid face. For a moment there was
+a penetrating glare in his eyes as he looked at Howland. Jackpine still
+stood silent and motionless beside the stove.
+
+"He told me that it was an accident," said Thorne at last.
+
+"Funny," was all that Howland said, turning to the Indian as though the
+matter was of no importance. "Ah, Jackpine, I'm glad to see the
+coffee-pot on. I've got a box of the blackest and mildest Porto Ricans
+you ever laid eyes on in my kit, Thorne, and we'll open 'em up for a
+good smoke after supper. Hello, why have you got boards nailed over
+that window?"
+
+For the first time Howland noticed that the thin muslin curtain, which
+he thought had screened a window, concealed, in place of a window, a
+carefully fitted barricade of plank. A sudden thrill shot through him as
+he rose to examine it. With his back toward Thorne he said, half
+laughing, "Perhaps Gregson was afraid that the fellow who clipped off
+his finger would get him through the window, eh?"
+
+He pretended not to perceive the effect of his words on the senior
+engineer. The two sat down to supper and for an hour after they had
+finished they smoked and talked on the business of the camp. It was ten
+o'clock when Thorne and Jackpine left the cabin.
+
+No sooner had they gone than Howland closed and barred the door, lighted
+another cigar, and began pacing rapidly up and down the room. Already
+there were developments. Gregson had lied to him about his finger.
+Thorne had lied to him about his own injuries, whatever they were. He
+was certain of these two things--and of more. The two senior engineers
+were not leaving the Wekusko because of mere dissatisfaction with the
+work and country. They were fleeing. And for some reason they were
+keeping from him the real motive for their flight. Was it possible that
+they were deliberately sacrificing him in order to save themselves? He
+could not bring himself to believe this, notwithstanding the evidence
+against them. Both were men of irreproachable honor. Thorne,
+especially, was a man of indomitable nerve--a man who would be the last
+in the world to prove treacherous to a business associate or a friend.
+He was sure that neither of them knew of Croisset or of the beautiful
+girl whom he had met at Prince Albert, which led him to believe that
+there were other characters in the strange plot in which he had become
+involved besides those whom he had encountered on the Great North Trail.
+Again he examined the barricaded window and he was more than ever
+convinced that his chance hit at Thorne had struck true.
+
+He was tired from his long day's travel but little inclination to sleep
+came to him, and stretching himself out on the lounge with his head and
+shoulders bolstered up with furs, he continued to smoke and think. He
+was surprised when a little clock tinkled the hour of eleven. He had not
+seen the clock before. Now he listened to the faint monotonous ticking
+it made close to his head until he felt an impelling drowsiness creeping
+over him and he closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when it struck
+again--softly, and yet with sufficient loudness to arouse him. It had
+struck twelve.
+
+With an effort Howland overcame his drowsiness and dragged himself to a
+sitting posture, knowing that he should undress and go to bed. The lamp
+was still burning brightly and he arose to turn down the wick. Suddenly
+he stopped. To his dulled senses there came distinctly the sound of a
+knock at the door. For a few moments he waited, silent and motionless.
+It came again, louder than before, and yet in it there was something of
+caution. It was not the heavy tattoo of one who had come to awaken him
+on a matter of business.
+
+Who could be his midnight visitor? Softly Howland went back to his heavy
+coat and slipped his small revolver into his hip pocket. The knock came
+again. Then he walked to the door, shot back the bolt, and, with his
+right hand gripping the butt of his pistol, flung it wide open.
+
+For a moment he stood transfixed, staring speechlessly at a white,
+startled face lighted up by the glow of the oil lamp. Bewildered to the
+point of dumbness, he backed slowly, holding the door open, and there
+entered the one person in all the world whom he wished most to see--she
+who had become so strangely a part of his life since that first night at
+Prince Albert, and whose sweet face was holding a deeper meaning for him
+with every hour that he lived. He closed the door and turned, still
+without speaking; and, impelled by a sudden spirit that sent the blood
+thrilling through his veins, he held out both hands to the girl for whom
+he now knew that he was willing to face all of the perils that might
+await him between civilization and the bay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+THE LOVE OF A MAN
+
+For a moment the girl hesitated, her ungloved hands clenched on her
+breast, her bloodless face tense with a strange grief, as she saw the
+outstretched arms of the man whom her treachery had almost lured to his
+death. Then, slowly, she approached, and once more Howland held her
+hands clasped to him and gazed questioningly down into the wild eyes
+that stared into his own.
+
+"Why did you run away from me?" were the first words that he spoke. They
+came from him gently, as if he had known her for a long time. In them
+there was no tone of bitterness; in the warmth of his gray eyes there
+was none of the denunciation which she might have expected. He repeated
+the question, bending his head until he felt the soft touch of her hair
+on his lips. "Why did you run away from me?"
+
+She drew away from him, her eyes searching his face.
+
+"I lied to you," she breathed, her words coming to him in a whisper. "I
+lied--"
+
+The words caught in her throat. He saw her struggling to control
+herself, to stop the quivering of her lip, the tremble in her voice. In
+another moment she had broken down, and with a low, sobbing cry sank in
+a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms. As Howland saw
+the convulsive trembling of her shoulders, his soul was flooded with a
+strange joy--not at this sight of her grief, but at the knowledge that
+she was sorry for what she had done. Softly he approached. The girl's
+fur cap had fallen off. Her long, shining braid was half undone and its
+silken strands fell over her shoulder and glistened in the lamp-glow on
+the table. His hand hesitated, and then fell gently on the bowed head.
+
+"Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true," he said.
+"I believe that it was necessary for you to--lie."
+
+Just once his hand stroked her soft hair, then, catching himself, he
+went to the opposite side of the narrow table and sat down. When the
+girl raised her head there was a bright flush in her cheeks. He could
+see the damp stain of tears on her face, but there was no sign of them
+now in the eyes that seemed seeking in his own the truth of his words,
+spoken a few moments before.
+
+"You believe that?" she questioned eagerly. "You believe that it was
+necessary for me to--lie?" She leaned a little toward him, her fingers
+twining themselves about one another nervously, as she waited for him
+to answer.
+
+"Yes," said Howland. He spoke the one word with a finality that sent a
+gladness into the soft brown eyes across from him. "I believe that you
+_had_ to lie to me."
+
+His low voice was vibrant with unbounded faith. Other words were on his
+lips, but he forced them back. A part of what he might have said--a part
+of the strange, joyous tumult in his heart--betrayed itself in his face,
+and before that betrayal the girl drew back slowly, the color fading
+from her cheeks.
+
+"And I believe you will not lie to me again," he said.
+
+She rose to her feet and flung back her hair, looking down on him in the
+manner of one who had never before met this kind of man, and knew not
+what to make of him.
+
+"No, I will not lie to you again," she replied, more firmly. "Do you
+believe me now?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then go back into the South. I have come to tell you that again
+to-night--to _make_ you believe me. You should have turned back at Le
+Pas. If you don't go--to-morrow--"
+
+Her voice seemed to choke her, and she stood without finishing, leaving
+him to understand what she had meant to say. In an instant Howland was
+at her side. Once more his old, resolute fighting blood was up. Firmly
+he took her hands again, his eyes compelling her to look up at him.
+
+"If I don't go to-morrow--they will kill me," he completed, repeating
+the words of her note to him. "Now, if you are going to be honest with
+me, tell me this--_who_ is going to kill me, and _why_?"
+
+He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her as she answered,
+
+"I said that I would not lie to you again. If I can not tell you the
+truth I will tell you nothing. It is impossible for me to say why your
+life is in danger."
+
+"But you know?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He seated her again in the chair beside the table and sat down opposite
+her.
+
+"Will you tell me who you are?"
+
+She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her
+hair. "Will you?" he persisted.
+
+"If I tell you who I am," she said at last, "you will know who is
+threatening your life."
+
+He stated at her in astonishment.
+
+"The devil, you say!" The words slipped from his lips before he could
+stop them. For a second time the girl rose from her chair.
+
+"You will go?" she entreated. "You will go to-morrow?"
+
+Her hand was on the latch of the door.
+
+"You will go?"
+
+He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp.
+Laughing, he came toward her.
+
+"Yes, surely I am going--to see you safely home." Suddenly he turned
+back to the lounge and belted on his revolver and holster. When he
+returned she barred his way defiantly, her back against the door.
+
+"You can not go!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again.
+"Because they will kill you!"
+
+The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.
+
+"I am glad that you care," he whispered to her softly.
+
+"You must go!" she still persisted.
+
+"With you, yes," he answered.
+
+"No, no--to-morrow. You must go back to Le Pas--back into the South.
+Will you promise me that?"
+
+"Perhaps," he said. "I will tell you soon." She surrendered to the
+determination in his voice and allowed him to pass out into the night
+with her. Swiftly she led him along a path that ran into the deep gloom
+of the balsam and spruce. He could hear the throbbing of her heart and
+her quick, excited breathing as she stopped, one of her hands clasping
+him nervously by the arm.
+
+"It is not very far--from here," she whispered "You must not go with me.
+If they saw me with you--at this hour--" He felt her shuddering
+against him.
+
+"Only a little farther," he begged.
+
+She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than
+before, until they came to where a few faint lights in the camp were
+visible ahead of them.
+
+"Now--now you must go!"
+
+Howland turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side.
+
+"You have not promised," she entreated. "Will you go--to-morrow?"
+
+In the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him in the gloom
+Howland saw again the strange, sweet power that had taken possession of
+his soul. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known
+this girl for only a few hours, that until to-night he had heard no word
+pass from her lips. He was conscious only that in the space of those few
+hours something had come into his life which he had never known before;
+and a deep longing to tell her this, to take her sweet face between his
+hands, as they stood in the gloom of the forest, and to confess to her
+that she had become more to him than a passing vision in a strange
+wilderness filled him. That night he had forgotten half of the strenuous
+lesson he had striven years to master; success, ambition, the mere joy
+of achievement, were for the first time sunk under a greater thing for
+him--the pulsating, human presence of this girl; and as he looked down
+into her face, pleading with him still in its white, silent terror, he
+forgot, too, what this woman was or might have been, knowing only that
+to him she had opened a new and glorious world filled with a promise
+that stirred his blood like sharp wine. He crushed her hands once more
+to his breast as he had done on the Great North Trail, holding her so
+close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom against him. He
+spoke no word--and still her eyes pleaded with him to go. Suddenly he
+freed one of his hands and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and
+turned her face gently, until what dim light came down from the stars
+above glowed in the beauty of her eyes. In his own face she saw that
+which he had not dared to speak, and from her lips there came a soft
+little sobbing cry.
+
+"No, I have not promised--and I will not promise," he said, holding her
+face so that she could not look away from him. "Forgive me
+for--for--doing this--" And before she could move he caught her for a
+moment close in his arms, holding her so that he felt the quick beating
+of her heart against his own, the sweep of her hair and breath in his
+face. "This is why I will not go back," he cried softly. "It is because
+I love you--love you--"
+
+He caught himself, choking back the words, and as she drew away from him
+her eyes shone with a glory that made him half reach out his arms
+to her.
+
+"You will forgive me!" he begged. "I do not mean to do wrong. Only, you
+must know why I shall not go back into the South."
+
+From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
+Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke,
+but its sweetness thrilled him.
+
+"If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"I?" He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. "Very soon you will
+forget that you have--ever--seen--me."
+
+From down the path there came the sound of low voices. Excitedly the
+girl ran to Howland, thrusting him back with her hands.
+
+"Go! Go!" she cried tensely. "Hurry back to the cabin! Lock your
+door--and don't come out again to-night! Oh, please, if you love me,
+please, go--"
+
+The voices were approaching. Howland fancied that he could distinguish
+dark shadows between the thinned walls of the forest. He laughed softly.
+
+"I am not going to run, little girl," he whispered. "See?" He drew his
+revolver so that it gleamed in the light of the stars.
+
+With a frightened gasp the girl pulled him into the thick bushes beside
+the path until they stood a dozen paces from where those who were coming
+down the trail would pass. There was a silence as Howland slipped his
+weapon back into its holster. Then the voices came again, very near, and
+at the sound of them his companion shrank close to him, her hands
+clutching his arms, her white, frightened face raised to him in piteous
+appeal. His blood leaped through him like fire. He knew that the girl
+had recognized the voices--that they who were about to pass him were the
+mysterious enemies against whom she had warned him. Perhaps they were
+the two who had attacked him on the Great North Trail. His muscles grew
+tense. The girl could feel them straining under her hands, could feel
+his body grow rigid and alert. His hand fell again on his revolver; he
+made a step past her, his eyes flashing, his face as set as iron.
+Almost sobbing, she pressed herself against his breast, holding
+him back.
+
+"Don't--don't--don't--" she whispered.
+
+They could hear the cracking of brush under the feet of those who were
+approaching. Suddenly the sounds ceased not twenty paces away.
+
+From his arms the girl's hands rose slowly to his shoulders, to his
+face, caressingly, pleadingly; her beautiful eyes glowed, half with
+terror, half with a prayer to him.
+
+"Don't!" she breathed again, so close that her sweet breath fell warm on
+his face. "Don't--if you--if you care for me!"
+
+Gently he drew her close in his arms, crushing her face to his breast,
+kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth.
+
+"I love you," he whispered again and again.
+
+The steps were resumed, the voices died away. Then there came a pressure
+against his breast, a gentle resistance, and he opened his arms so that
+the girl drew back from him. Her lips were smiling at him, and in that
+smile there was gentle accusation, the sweetness of forgiveness, and he
+could see that with these there had come also a flush into her cheeks
+and a dazzling glow into her eyes.
+
+"They are gone," she said tremblingly.
+
+"Yes; they are gone."
+
+He stood looking down into her glowing face in silence. Then, "They are
+gone," he repeated. "They were the men who tried to kill me at Prince
+Albert. I have let them go--for you. Will you tell me your name?"
+
+"Yes--that much--now. It is Meleese."
+
+"Meleese!"
+
+The name fell from him sharply. In an instant there recurred to him all
+that Croisset had said, and there almost came from his lips the
+half-breed's words, which had burned themselves in his memory, "Perhaps
+you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the
+little Meleese." What had Croisset meant?
+
+"Meleese," he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face.
+
+"Yes--Meleese--"
+
+She drew back from him slowly, the color fading from her cheeks; and as
+she saw the light in his eyes, there burst from her a short,
+stifled cry.
+
+"Now--you understand--you understand why you must go back into the
+South," she almost sobbed. "Oh, I have sinned to tell you my name! But
+you will go, won't you? You will go--for me--"
+
+"For you I would go to the end of the earth!" interrupted Howland, his
+pale face near to her. "But you must tell me why. I don't understand
+you. I don't know why those men tried to kill me in Prince Albert. I
+don't know why my life is in danger here. Croisset told me that my
+warning back there came from a girl named Meleese. I didn't understand
+him. I don't understand you. It is all a mystery to me. So far as I know
+I have never had enemies. I never heard your name until Croisset spoke
+it. What did he mean? What do you mean? Why do you want to drive me
+from the Wekusko? Why is my life in danger? It is for you to tell me
+these things. I have been honest with you. I love you. I will fight for
+you if it is necessary--but you must tell me--tell me--"
+
+His breath was hot in her face, and she stared at him as if what she
+heard robbed her of the power of speech.
+
+"Won't you tell me?" he whispered, more softly. "Meleese--" She made no
+effort to resist him as he drew her once more in his arms, crushing her
+sweet lips to his own. "Meleese, won't you tell me?"
+
+Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head,
+looking squarely into his eyes.
+
+"If I tell you," she said softly, "and in telling you I betray those
+whom I love, will you promise to bring harm to none of them, but go--go
+back into the South?"
+
+"And leave you?"
+
+"Yes--and leave me."
+
+There was the faintest tremor of a sob in the voice which she was
+trying so hard to control. His arms tightened about her.
+
+"I will swear to do what is best for you--and for me," he replied. "I
+will swear to bring harm to none whom you care to shield. But I will not
+promise to leave you!"
+
+A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and
+stood back from him.
+
+"I will think--think--" she whispered quickly. "Perhaps I will tell you
+to-morrow night--here--if you will keep your oath and do what is best
+for you--and for me."
+
+"I swear it!"
+
+"Then I will meet you here--at this time--when the others are asleep.
+But--to-morrow--you will be careful--careful--" Unconsciously she half
+reached her arms out to him as she turned toward the path. "You will be
+careful--to-morrow--promise me that."
+
+"I promise."
+
+Like a shadow she was gone. He heard her quick steps running up the
+path, saw her form as it disappeared in the forest gloom. For a few
+moments longer he stood, hardly breathing, until he knew that she had
+gone beyond his hearing. Then he walked swiftly along the footpath that
+led to the cabin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+THE BLOWING OF THE COYOTE
+
+In the new excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being,
+Howland forgot his own danger, forgot his old caution and the fears that
+gave birth to it, forgot everything in these moments but Meleese and his
+own great happiness. For he was happy, happier than he had ever been in
+his life, happier than he had ever expected to be. He was conscious of
+no madness in this strange, new joy that swept through his being like a
+fire; he did not stop to weigh with himself the unreasoning impulses
+that filled him. He had held Meleese in his arms, he had told her of his
+love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness he was
+thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes, which had spoken
+faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. And his faith in her had
+become as limitless as the blue space above him. He had known her for
+but a few hours and yet in that time it seemed to him that he had lived
+longer than in all of the years that had gone before. She had lied to
+him, had divulged only a part of her identity--and yet he knew that
+there were reasons for these things.
+
+To-morrow night he would see her again, and then--
+
+What would she tell him? Whatever it was, it was to be a reward for his
+own love. He knew that, by the half-fearing tremble of her voice, the
+sobbing catch of her breath, the soft glow in her eyes. Impelled by that
+love, would she confide in him? And then--would he go back into
+the South?
+
+He laughed, softly, joyfully.
+
+Yes, he would go back into the South--he would go to the other end of
+the earth, if she would go with him. What was the building of this
+railroad now to that other great thing that had come into his life? For
+the first time he saw duty in another light. There were others who
+could build the road; success, fortune, ambition--in the old way he had
+seen them--were overshadowed now by this love of a girl.
+
+He stopped and lighted his pipe. The fragrant odor of the tobacco, the
+flavor of the warm smoke in his mouth, helped to readjust him, to cool
+his heated brain. The old fighting instincts leaped into life again. Go
+into the South? He asked himself the question once more, and in the
+gloomy silence of the forest his low laugh fell again as he clenched his
+hands in anticipation of what was ahead of him. No--he would build the
+road! And in building it he would win this girl, if it was given for him
+to possess her.
+
+His saner thoughts brought back his caution. He went more slowly toward
+the cabin, keeping in the deep shadows and stopping now and then to
+listen. At the edge of the clearing he paused for a long time. There was
+no sign of life about the cabin abandoned by Gregson and Thorne. It was
+probable that the two men who had passed along the path had returned to
+the camp by another trail, and still keeping as much within the shadows
+as possible he went to the door and entered.
+
+With his feet propped in front of the big box stove sat Jackpine. The
+Indian rose as Howland entered, and something in the sullen gloom of his
+face caused the young engineer to eye him questioningly.
+
+"Any one been here, Jackpine?"
+
+The old sledge-driver gave his head a negative shake and hunched his
+shoulders, pointing at the same time to the table, on which lay a
+carefully folded piece of paper.
+
+"Thorne," he grunted.
+
+Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp, and read:
+
+"MY DEAR HOWLAND:
+
+"I forgot to tell you that our mail sledge starts for Le Pas to-morrow
+at noon, and as I'm planning on going down with it I want you to get
+over as early as you can in the morning. Can put you on to everything in
+the camp between eight and twelve. THORNE."
+
+A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips.
+
+"Where do you sleep, Jackpine?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Cabin in edge of woods," replied the Indian.
+
+"How about breakfast? Thorne hasn't put me on to the grub line yet."
+
+"Thorne say you eat with heem in mornin'. I come early--wake you. After
+heem go--to-morrow--eat here."
+
+"You needn't wake me," said Howland, throwing off his coat. "I'll find
+Thorne--probably before he's up. Good night."
+
+Jackpine had half opened the door, and for a moment the engineer caught
+a glimpse of his dark, grinning face looking back over his shoulder. He
+hesitated, as if about to speak, and then with a mouthful of his
+inimitable chuckles, he went out.
+
+After bolting the door Howland lighted a small table lamp, entered the
+sleeping room and prepared for bed.
+
+"Got to have a little sleep no matter if things are going off like a
+Fourth of July celebration," he grumbled, and rolled between the sheets.
+
+In spite of his old habit of rising with the breaking of dawn it was
+Jackpine who awakened him a few hours later. The camp was hardly astir
+when he followed the Indian down among the log cabins to Thorne's
+quarters. The senior engineer was already dressed.
+
+"Sorry to hustle you so, Howland," he greeted, "but I've got to go down
+with the mail. Just between you and me I don't believe the camp doctor
+is much on his job. I've got a deuced bad shoulder and a worse arm, and
+I'm going down to a good surgeon as fast as I can."
+
+"Didn't they send Weston up with you?" asked Howland. He knew that
+Weston was the best "accident man" in the company's employ.
+
+"Yes--Weston," replied the senior, eying him sharply. "I don't mean to
+say he's not a good man, Howland," he amended quickly. "But he doesn't
+quite seem to take hold of this hurt of mine. By the way, I looked over
+our pay-roll and there is no Croisset on it."
+
+For an hour after breakfast the two men were busy with papers, maps and
+drawings relative to the camp work. Howland had kept in close touch with
+operations from Chicago and by the time they were ready to leave for
+outside inspection he was confident that he could take hold without the
+personal assistance of either Gregson or Thorne. Before that hour had
+passed he was certain of at least one other thing--that it was not
+incompetency that was taking the two senior engineers back to the home
+office. He had half expected to find the working-end in the same
+disorganized condition as its chiefs. But if Gregson and Thorne had been
+laboring under a tremendous strain of some kind it was not reflected in
+the company's work, as shown in the office records which the latter had
+spread out before him.
+
+"That's a big six months' work," said Thorne when they had finished.
+"Good Lord, man, when we first came up here a jack-rabbit couldn't hop
+through this place where you're sitting, and now see what we've got!
+Fifty cabins, four mess-halls, two of the biggest warehouses north of
+Winnipeg, a post-office, a hospital, three blacksmith shops and--a
+ship-yard!"
+
+"A ship-yard!" exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise.
+
+"Sure, with a fifty-ton ship half built and frozen stiff in the ice. You
+can finish her in the spring and you'll find her mighty useful for
+bringing supplies from the head of the Wekusko. We're using horses on
+the ice now. Had a deuced hard time in getting fifty of 'em up from Le
+Pas. And besides all this, we've got six miles of road-bed built to the
+south and three to the north. We've got a sub-camp at each working-end,
+but most of the men still prefer to come in at night." He dragged
+himself slowly and painfully to his feet as a knock sounded at the door.
+"That's MacDonald, our camp superintendent," he explained. "Told him to
+be here at eight. He's a corker for taking hold of things."
+
+A little, wiry, red-headed man hopped in as Thorne threw open the door.
+The moment his eyes fell on Howland he sprang forward with outstretched
+hand, smiling and bobbing his head.
+
+"Howland, of course!" he cried. "Glad to see you! Five minutes
+late--awful sorry--but they're having the devil's own time over at a
+coyote we're going to blow this morning, and that's what kept me."
+
+From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a
+cricket.
+
+"How's the arm, Thorne? And if there's any mercy in your corpus tell me
+if Jackpine brought me the cigarettes from Le Pas. If he forgot them, as
+the mail did, I'll have his life as sure--"
+
+"He brought them," said Thorne. "But how about this coyote, Mac? I
+thought it was ready to fire."
+
+"So it is--now. The south ridge is scheduled to go up at ten o'clock.
+We'll blow up the big north mountains sometime to-night. It'll make a
+glorious fireworks--one hundred and twenty-five barrels of powder and
+four fifty-pound cases of dynamite--and if you can't walk that far,
+Thorne, we'll take you up on a sledge. Mustn't allow you to miss it!"
+
+"Sorry, but I'll have to, Mac. I'm going south with the mail. That's why
+I want you with Howland and me this morning. It will be up to you to get
+him acquainted with every detail in camp."
+
+"Bully!" exclaimed the little superintendent, rubbing his hands with
+brisk enthusiasm. "Greggy and Thorne have done some remarkable things,
+Mr. Howland. You'll open your eyes when you see 'em! Talk about building
+railroads! We've got 'em all beat a thousand ways--tearing through
+forests, swamps and those blooming ridge-mountains--and here we are
+pretty near up at the end of the earth. The new Trans-continental isn't
+in it with us! The--"
+
+"Ring off, Mac!" exclaimed Thorne; and Howland found himself laughing
+down into the red, freckled face of the superintendent. He liked this
+man immensely from the first.
+
+"He's a bunch of live wires, double-charged all the time," said Thorne
+in a low voice as MacDonald went out ahead of them. "Always like
+that--happy as a boy most of the time, loved by the men, but the very
+devil himself when he's riled. Don't know what this camp would do
+without him."
+
+This same thought occurred to Howland a dozen times during the next two
+hours. MacDonald seemed to be the life and law of the camp, and he
+wondered more and more at Thorne's demeanor. The camp chiefs and gang
+foremen whom they met seemed to stand in a certain awe of the senior
+engineer, but it was at the little red-headed Scotchman's cheery words
+that their eyes lighted with enthusiasm. This was not like the old
+Thorne, who had been the eye, the ear and the tongue of the company's
+greatest engineering works for a decade past, and whose boundless
+enthusiasm and love of work had been the largest factors in the winning
+of fame that was more than national. He began to note that there was a
+strange nervousness about Thorne when they were among the men, an uneasy
+alertness in his eyes, as though he were looking for some particular
+face among those they encountered. MacDonald's shrewd eyes observed his
+perplexity, and once he took an opportunity to whisper:
+
+"I guess it's about time for Thorne to get back into civilization.
+There's something bad in his system. Weston told me yesterday that his
+injuries are coming along finely. I don't understand it."
+
+A little later they returned with Thorne to his room.
+
+"I want Howland to see this south coyote go up," said MacDonald. "Can
+you spare him? We'll be back before noon."
+
+"Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That will give me
+time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten."
+
+Howland fancied that there was a certain tone of relief in the senior's
+voice, but he made no mention of it to the superintendent as they walked
+swiftly to the scene of the "blow-out." The coyote was ready for firing
+when they arrived. The coyote itself--a tunnel of fifty feet dug into
+the solid rock of the mountain and terminating in a chamber packed with
+explosives--was closed by masses of broken rock, rammed tight, and
+MacDonald showed his companion where the electric wire passed to the
+fuse within.
+
+"It's a confounded mystery to me why Thorne doesn't care to see this
+ridge blown up!" he exclaimed after they had finished the inspection.
+"We've been at work for three months drilling this coyote, and the
+bigger one to the north. There are four thousand square yards of rock to
+come out of there, and six thousand out of the other. You don't see
+shots like those three times in a lifetime, and there'll not be another
+for us between here and the bay. What's the matter with Thorne?"
+
+Without waiting for a reply MacDonald walked swiftly in the direction of
+a ridge to the right. Already guards had been thrown out on all sides of
+the mountain and their thrilling warnings of "Fire--Fire--Fire," shouted
+through megaphones of birch-bark, echoed with ominous meaning through
+the still wilderness, where for the time all work had ceased. On the top
+of the ridge half a hundred of the workmen had already assembled, and as
+Howland and the superintendent came among them they fell back from
+around a big, flat boulder on which was stationed the electric battery.
+MacDonald's face was flushed and his eyes snapped like dragonflies as he
+pointed to a tiny button.
+
+"God, but I can't understand why Thorne doesn't care to see this," he
+said again. "Think of it, man--seven thousand five hundred pounds of
+powder and two hundred of dynamite! A touch of this button, a flash
+along the wire, and the fuse is struck. Then, four or five minutes, and
+up goes a mountain that has stood here since the world began. Isn't it
+glorious?" He straightened himself and took off his hat. "Mr. Howland,
+will you press the button?"
+
+With a strange thrill Howland bent over the battery, his eyes turned to
+the mass of rock looming sullen and black half a mile away, as if
+bidding defiance in the face of impending fate. Tremblingly his finger
+pressed on the little white knob, and a silence like that of death fell
+on those who watched. One minute--two--three--five passed, while in the
+bowels of the mountain the fuse was sizzling to its end. Then there came
+a puff, something like a cloud of dust rising skyward, but without
+sound; and before its upward belching had ceased a tongue of flame
+spurted out of its crest--and after that, perhaps two seconds later,
+came the explosion. There was a rumbling and a jarring, as if the earth
+were convulsed under foot; volumes of dense black smoke shot upward,
+shutting the mountain in an impenetrable pall of gloom; and in an
+instant these rolling, twisting volumes of black became lurid, and an
+explosion like that of a thousand great guns rent the air. As fast as
+the eye could follow, sheets of flame shot out of the sea of smoke,
+climbing higher and higher, in lightning flashes, until the lurid
+tongues licked the air a quarter of a mile above the startled
+wilderness. Explosion followed explosion, some of them coming in hollow,
+reverberating booms, others sounding as if in mid-air. The heavens were
+filled with hurtling rocks; solid masses of granite ten feet square were
+thrown a hundred feet away; rocks weighing a ton were hurled still
+farther, as if they were no more than stones flung by the hand of a
+giant; chunks that would have crashed from the roof to the basement of a
+sky-scraper dropped a third and nearly a half a mile away. For three
+minutes the frightful convulsions continued. Then the lurid lights died
+out of the pall of smoke, and the pall itself began to settle. Howland
+felt a grip on his arm. Dumbly he turned and looked into the white,
+staring face of the superintendent. His ears tingled, every fiber in him
+seemed unstrung. MacDonald's voice came to him strange and weird.
+
+"What do you think of that, Howland?" The two men gripped hands, and
+when they looked again they saw dimly through dust and smoke only torn
+and shattered masses of rock where had been the giant ridge that barred
+the path of the new road to the bay.
+
+Howland talked but little on their way back to camp. The scene that he
+had just witnessed affected him strangely; it stirred once more within
+him all of his old ambition, all of his old enthusiasm, and yet neither
+found voice in words. He was glad when the dinner was over at Thorne's,
+and with the going of the mail sledge and the senior engineer there came
+over him a still deeper sense of joy. Now _he_ was in charge, it was
+_his_ road from that hour on. He crushed MacDonald's hand in a grip that
+meant more than words when they parted. In his own cabin he threw off
+his coat and hat, lighted his pipe, and tried to realize just what this
+all meant for him. He was in charge--in charge of the greatest railroad
+building job on earth--_he_, Jack Howland, who less than twenty years
+ago was a barefooted, half-starved urchin peddling papers in the streets
+where he was now famous! And now what was this black thing that had come
+up to threaten his chances just as he had about won his great fight? He
+clenched his hands as he thought again of what had already happened--the
+cowardly attempt on his life, the warnings, and his blood boiled to
+fever heat. That night--after he had seen Meleese--he would know what to
+do. But he would not be driven away, as Gregson and Thorne had been
+driven. He was determined on that.
+
+The gloom of night falls early in the great northern mid-winter, and it
+was already growing dusk when there came the sound of a voice outside,
+followed a moment later by a loud knock at the door. At Howland's
+invitation the door opened and the head and shoulders of a man appeared.
+
+"Something has gone wrong out at the north coyote, sir, and Mr.
+MacDonald wants you just as fast as you can get out there," he said. "He
+sent me down for you with a sledge."
+
+"MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing," said Howland,
+putting on his hat and coat. "What's the matter?"
+
+"Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible
+sweat to see you."
+
+Half an hour later the sledge drew up close to the place where Howland
+had seen a score of men packing bags of powder and dynamite earlier in
+the day. Half a dozen lanterns were burning among the rocks, but there
+was no sign of movement or life. The engineer's companion gave a sudden
+sharp crack of his long whip and in response to it there came a muffled
+halloo from out of the gloom.
+
+"That's MacDonald, sir. You'll find him right up there near that second
+light, where the coyote opens up. He's grilling the life out of half a
+dozen men in the chamber, where he found the dynamite on top of the
+powder instead of under it."
+
+"All right!" called back Howland, starting up among the rocks. Hardly
+had he taken a dozen steps when a dark object shot out behind him and,
+fell with crushing force on his head. With, a groaning cry he fell
+forward on his face. For a few moments he was conscious of voices about
+him; he knew that he was being lifted in the arms of men, and that after
+a time they were carrying him so that his feet dragged on the ground.
+After that he seemed to be sinking down--down--down--until he lost all
+sense of existence in a chaos of inky blackness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+THE HOUR OF DEATH
+
+A red, unwinking eye staring at him fixedly from out of impenetrable
+gloom--an ogreish, gleaming thing that brought life back into him with a
+thrill of horror--was Howland's first vision of returning consciousness.
+It was dead in front of him, on a level with his face--a ball of yellow
+fire that seemed to burn into his very soul. He tried to cry out, but no
+sound fell from his lips; he strove to move, to fight himself away, but
+there was no power of movement in his limbs. The eye grew larger. He saw
+that it was so bright it cast a halo, and the halo widened before his
+own staring eyes until the dense gloom about it seemed to be melting
+away. Then he knew. It was a lantern in front of him, not more than ten
+feet away. Consciousness flooded him, and he made another effort to cry
+out, to free his arms from an invisible clutch that held him powerless.
+At first he thought this was the clutch of human hands; then as the
+lantern-light revealed more clearly the things about him and the
+outlines of his own figure, he saw that it was a rope, and he knew that
+he was unable to cry out because of something tight and suffocating
+about his mouth.
+
+The truth came to him swiftly. He had come up to the coyote on a sledge.
+Some one had struck him. He remembered that men had half-dragged him
+over the rocks, and these men had bound and gagged him, and left him
+here, with the lantern staring him in the face. But where was he? He
+shifted his eyes, straining to penetrate the gloom. Ahead of him, just
+beyond the light, there was a black wall; he could not move his head,
+but he saw where that same wall closed in on the left. He turned his
+gaze upward, and it ended with that same imprisoning barrier of rock.
+Then he looked down, and the cry of horror that rose in his throat died
+in a muffled groan. The light fell dimly on a sack--two of
+them--three--a tightly packed wall of them.
+
+He knew now what had happened. He was imprisoned in the coyote, and the
+sacks about him were filled with powder. He was sitting on something
+hard--a box--fifty pounds of dynamite! The cold sweat stood out in beads
+on his face, glistening in the lantern-glow. From between his feet a
+thin, white, ghostly line ran out until it lost itself in the blackness
+under the lantern. It was the fuse, leading to the box of dynamite on
+which he was sitting!
+
+Madly he struggled at the thongs that bound him until he sank exhausted
+against the row of powder sacks at his back. Like words of fire
+the last warning of Meleese burned in his brain--"You must go,
+to-morrow--to-morrow--or they will kill you!" And this was the way in
+which he was to die! There flamed before his eyes the terrible spectacle
+which he had witnessed a few hours before--the holocaust of fire and
+smoke and thunder that had disrupted a mountain, a chaos of writhing,
+twisting fury, and in that moment his heart seemed to cease its beating.
+He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Was it possible that there
+lived men so fiendish as to condemn him to this sort of death? Why had
+not his enemies killed him out among the rocks? That would have been
+easier--quicker--less troublesome. Why did they wish to torture him?
+What terrible thing had he done? Was he mad--mad--and this all a
+terrible nightmare, a raving find unreal contortion of things in his
+brain? In this hour of death question after question raced through his
+head, and he answered no one of them. He sat still for a time, scarcely
+breathing. There was no sound, save the beating of his own heart. Then
+there came another, almost unheard at first, faint, thrilling,
+maddening.
+
+Tick--tick--tick!
+
+It was the beating of his watch. A spasm of horror seized him.
+
+What time was it? The coyote was to be fired at nine o'clock. It was
+four when he left his cabin. How long had he been unconscious? Was it
+time now--now? Was MacDonald's finger already reaching out to that
+little white button which would send him into eternity?
+
+He struggled again, gnashing furiously at the thing which covered his
+mouth, tearing the flesh of his wrists as he twisted at the ropes which
+bound him, choking himself with his efforts to loosen the thong about
+his neck. Exhausted again, he sank back, panting, half dead. As he lay
+with closed eyes a little of his reason asserted itself. After all, was
+he such a coward as to go mad?
+
+Tick--tick--tick!
+
+His watch was beating at a furious rate. Was something wrong with it?
+Was it going too fast? He tried to count the seconds, but they raced
+away from him. When he looked again his gaze fell on the little yellow
+tongue of flame in the lantern globe. It was not the steady, unwinking
+eye of a few minutes before. There was a sputtering weakness about it
+now, and as he watched the light grew fainter and fainter. The flame was
+going out. A few minutes more and he would be in darkness. At first the
+significance of it did not come to him; then he straightened himself
+with a jerk that tightened the thong about his neck until it choked him.
+Hours must have passed since the lantern had been placed on that rock,
+else the oil would not be burned out of it now!
+
+For the first time Howland realized that it was becoming more and more
+difficult for him to get breath. The thing about his neck was
+tightening, slowly, inexorably, like a hot band of steel, and suddenly,
+because of this tightening, he found that he had recovered his voice.
+
+"This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--"
+
+Whatever had been about his mouth had slipped down and his words sounded
+hollow and choking in the rock-bound chamber. He tried to raise his
+voice in a shout, though he knew how futile his loudest shrieks would
+be. The effort choked him more. His suffering was becoming excruciating.
+Sharp pains darted like red-hot needles through his limbs, his back
+tortured him, and his head ached as though a knife had cleft the base of
+his skull. The strength of his limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt
+any sensation in his cramped feet. He measured the paralysis creeping up
+his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it--and then a
+groan of horror rose to his lips.
+
+The light had gone out!
+
+As if that dying of the little yellow flame were the signal for his
+death, there came to his ears a sharp hissing sound, a spark leaped up
+into the blackness before his eyes, and a slow, creeping glow came
+toward him over the rock at his feet.
+
+The hour--the minute--the second had come, and MacDonald had pressed the
+little white button that was to send him into eternity! He did not cry
+out now. He knew that the end was very near, and in its nearness he
+found new strength. Once he had seen a man walk to his death on the
+scaffold, and as the condemned had spoken his last farewell, with the
+noose about his neck, he had marveled at the clearness of his voice, at
+the fearlessness of this creature in his last moment on earth.
+
+Now he understood. Inch by inch the fuse burned toward him--a fifth of
+the distance, a quarter--now a third. At last it reached a half--was
+almost under his feet. Two minutes more of life. He put his whole
+strength once again in an attempt to free his hands. This time his
+attempt was cool, steady, masterful---with death one hundred seconds
+away. His heart gave a sudden bursting leap into his throat when he felt
+something give. Another effort--and in the powder-choked vault there
+rang out a thrilling cry of triumph. His hands were free! He reached
+forward to the fuse, and this time a moaning, wordless sob fell from
+him, faint, terrifying, with all the horror that might fill a human
+soul in its inarticulate note. He could not reach the fuse because of
+the thong about his neck!
+
+He felt for his knife. He had left it in his room. Sixty seconds
+more--forty--thirty! He could see the fiery end of the fuse almost at
+his feet. Suddenly his groping fingers came in contact with the cold
+steel of his pocket revolver and with a last hope he snatched it forth,
+stretching down his pistol arm until the muzzle of the weapon was within
+a dozen inches of the deadly spark. At his first shot the spark leaped,
+but did not go out. After the second there was no longer the fiery,
+creeping thing on the floor, and, crushing his head back against the
+sacks, Howland sat for many minutes as if death had in reality come to
+him in the moment of his deliverance. After a time, with tedious
+slowness, he worked a hand into his trousers' pocket, where he carried a
+pen-knife. It took him a long time to saw through the rawhide thong
+about his neck. After that he cut the rope that bound his ankles.
+
+He made an effort to rise, but no sooner had he gained his feet than his
+paralyzed limbs gave way under him and he dropped in a heap on the
+floor. Very slowly the blood began finding its way through his choked
+veins again, and with the change there came over him a feeling of
+infinite restfulness. He stretched himself out, with his face turned to
+the black wall above, realizing only that he was saved, that he had
+outwitted his mysterious enemies again, and that he was comfortable. He
+made no effort to think--to scheme out his further deliverance. He was
+with the powder and the dynamite, and the powder and the dynamite could
+not be exploded until human hands came to attach a new fuse. MacDonald
+would attend to that very soon, so he went off into a doze that was
+almost sleep. In his half-consciousness there came to him but one
+sound--that dreadful ticking of his watch. He seemed to have listened
+to it for hours when there arose another sound--the ticking of
+another watch.
+
+He sat up, startled, wondering, and then he laughed happily as he heard
+the sound more distinctly. It was the beating of picks on the rock
+outside. Already MacDonald's men were at work clearing the mouth of the
+coyote. In half an hour he would be out in the big, breathing
+world again.
+
+The thought brought him to his feet. The numbness was gone from his
+limbs and he could walk about. His first move was to strike a match and
+look at his watch.
+
+"Half-past ten!"
+
+He spoke the words aloud, thinking of Meleese. In an hour and a half he
+was to meet her on the trail. Would he be released in time to keep the
+tryst? How should he explain his imprisonment in the coyote so that he
+could leave MacDonald without further loss of time? As the sound of the
+picks came nearer his brain began working faster. If he could only evade
+explanations until morning--and then reveal the whole dastardly
+business to MacDonald! There would be time then for those explanations,
+for the running down of his murderous assailants, and in the while he
+would be able to keep his appointment with Meleese.
+
+He was not long in finding a way in which this scheme could be worked,
+and gathering up the severed ropes and rawhide he concealed them between
+two of the powder sacks so that those who entered the coyote would
+discover no signs of his terrible imprisonment. Close to the mouth of
+the tunnel there was a black rent in the wall of rock, made by a
+bursting charge of dynamite, in which he could conceal himself. When the
+men were busy examining the broken fuse he would step out and join them.
+It would look as though he had crawled through the tunnel after them.
+
+Half an hour later a mass of rock rolled down close to his feet, and a
+few moments after he saw a shadowy human form crawling through the hole
+it had left. A second followed, and then a third;--and the first voice
+he heard was that of MacDonald.
+
+"Give us the lantern, Bucky," he called back, and a gleam of light shot
+into the black chamber. The men walked cautiously toward the fuse, and
+Howland saw the little superintendent fall on his knees.
+
+"What in hell!" he heard him exclaim, and then there was a silence. As
+quietly as a cat Howland worked himself to the entrance and made a
+clatter among the rocks. It was he who responded to the voice.
+
+"What's up, MacDonald?"
+
+He coolly joined the little group. MacDonald looked up, and when he saw
+the new chief bending over him his eyes stared in unbounded wonder.
+
+"Howland!" he gasped.
+
+It was all he said, but in that one word and in the strange excitement
+in the superintendent's face Howland read that which made him turn
+quickly to the men, giving them his first command as general-in-chief of
+the road that was going to the bay.
+
+"Get out of the coyote, boys," he said. "We won't do anything more until
+morning."
+
+To MacDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low
+voice:
+
+"Guard the entrance to this tunnel with half a dozen of your best men
+to-night, MacDonald. I know things which will lead me to investigate
+this to-morrow. I'm going to leave you as soon as I get outside. Spread
+the report that it was simply a bad fuse. Understand?"
+
+He crawled out ahead of the superintendent, and before MacDonald had
+emerged from the coyote he had already lost himself in the starlit gloom
+of the night and was hastening to his tryst with the beautiful girl,
+who, he believed, would reveal to him at least a part of one of the
+strangest and most diabolical plots that had ever originated in the
+brain of man.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+THE TRYST
+
+It still lacked nearly an hour of the appointed time when Howland came
+to the secluded spot in the trail where he was to meet Meleese.
+Concealed in the deep shadows of the bushes he seated himself on the end
+of a fallen spruce and loaded his pipe, taking care to light it with the
+flare of the match hidden in the hollow of his hands. For the first time
+since his terrible experience in the coyote he found himself free to
+think, and more than ever he began to see the necessity of coolness and
+of judgment in what he was about to do. Gradually, too, he fought
+himself back into his old faith in Meleese. His blood was tingling at
+fever heat in his desire for vengeance, for the punishment of the human
+fiends who had attempted to blow him to atoms, and yet at the same time
+there was no bitterness in him toward the girl. He was sure that she
+was an unwilling factor in the plot, and that she was doing all in her
+power to save him. At the same time he began to realize that he should
+no longer be influenced by her pleading. He had promised--in return for
+her confidence this night--to leave unpunished those whom she wished to
+shield. He would take back that promise. Before she revealed anything to
+him he would warn her that he was determined to discover those who had
+twice sought to kill him.
+
+It was nearly midnight when he looked at his watch again. Was it
+possible that Meleese would not come? He could not bring himself to
+believe that she knew of his imprisonment in the coyote--of this second
+attempt on his life. And yet--if she did--
+
+He rose from the log and began pacing quickly back and forth in the
+gloom, his thoughts racing through his brain with increasing
+apprehension. Those who had imprisoned him had learned of his escape an
+hour ago. Many things might have happened in that time. Perhaps they
+were fleeing from the camp. Frightened by their failure, and fearing the
+punishment which would be theirs if discovered, it was not improbable
+that even now they were many miles from the Wekusko, hurrying deeper
+into the unknown wilderness to the north. And Meleese would be
+with them!
+
+Suddenly he heard a step, a light, running step, and with a recognizing
+cry he sprang out into the starlight to meet the slim, panting,
+white-faced figure that ran to him from between the thick walls of
+forest trees.
+
+"Meleese?" he exclaimed softly.
+
+He held out his arms and the girl ran straight into them, thrusting her
+hands against his breast, throwing back her head so that she looked up
+into his face with great, staring, horror-filled eyes.
+
+"Now--now--" she sobbed, "_now_ will you go?"
+
+Her hands left his breast and crept to his shoulders; slowly they
+slipped over them, and as Howland pressed her closer, his lips silent,
+she gave an agonized cry and dropped her head against his shoulder, her
+whole body torn in a convulsion of grief and terror that startled him.
+
+"You will go?" she sobbed again and again. "You will go--you will go--"
+
+He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to
+hers.
+
+"No, I am not going, dear," he replied in a low, firm voice. "Not after
+what happened to-night."
+
+She drew away from him as quickly as if he had struck her, freeing
+herself even from the touch of his hands.
+
+"I heard--what happened--an hour ago," she said, her voice choking her.
+"I overheard--them--talking." She struggled hard to control herself.
+"You must leave the camp--to-night."
+
+In the gloom she saw Howland's teeth gleaming. There was no fear in his
+smile; he laughed gently down into her eyes as he took her face between
+his hands again.
+
+"I want to take back the promise that I gave you last night, Meleese. I
+want to give you a chance to warn any whom you may wish to warn. I shall
+not return into the South. From this hour begins the hunt for the
+cowardly devils who have tried to murder me. Before dawn every man on
+the Wekusko will be in the search, and if we find them there shall be no
+mercy. Will you help me, or--"
+
+She struck his hands from her face, springing back before he had
+finished. He saw a sudden change of expression; her lips grew tense and
+firm; from the death whiteness of her face there faded slowly away the
+look of soft pleading, the quivering lines of fear. There was a
+strangeness in her voice when she spoke--something of the hard
+determination which Howland had put in his own, and yet the tone of it
+lacked his gentleness and love.
+
+"Will you please tell me the time?" The question was almost startling.
+Howland held the dial of his watch to the light of the stars.
+
+"It is a quarter past midnight."
+
+The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips.
+
+"Are you certain that your watch is not fast?" she asked.
+
+In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her.
+
+"Because it will mean a great deal to you and to me if it is not a
+quarter past midnight," continued Meleese, a growing glow in her eyes.
+Suddenly she approached him and put both of her warm hands to his face,
+holding down his arms with her own. "Listen," she whispered. "Is there
+nothing--nothing that will make you change your purpose, that will take
+you back into the South--to-night?"
+
+The nearness of the sweet face, the gentle touch of the girl's hands,
+the soft breath of her lips, sent a maddening impulse through Howland
+to surrender everything to her. For an instant he wavered.
+
+"There might be one--just _one_ thing that would take me away to-night,"
+he replied, his voice trembling with the great love that thrilled him.
+"For you, Meleese, I would give up everything--ambition, fortune, the
+building of this road. If I go to-night will you go with me? Will you
+promise to be my wife when we reach Le Pas?"
+
+A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to
+his own.
+
+"That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am--what
+I have done--"
+
+He stopped her.
+
+"Have you done wrong--a great wrong?"
+
+For a moment her eyes faltered; then, hesitatingly, there fell from her
+lips, "I--don't--know. I believe I have. But it's not that--it's
+not _that!_"
+
+"Do you mean that--that I have no right to tell you I love you?" he
+asked. "Do you mean that it is wrong for you to listen to me?
+I--I--took it for granted that you were a--girl--that--"
+
+"No, no, it is not that," she cried quickly, catching his meaning. "It
+is not wrong for you to love me." Suddenly she asked again, "Will you
+please tell me what time it is--now?"
+
+He looked again.
+
+"Twenty-five minutes after midnight."
+
+"Let us go farther up the trail," she whispered. "I am afraid here."
+
+She led the way, passing swiftly beyond the path that branched out to
+his cabin. Two hundred yards beyond this a tree had fallen on the edge
+of the trail, and seating herself on it Meleese motioned for him to sit
+down beside her. Howland's back was to the thick bushes behind them. He
+looked at the girl, but she had turned away her face. Suddenly she
+sprang from the log and stood in front of him.
+
+"Now!" she cried. "Now!" and at that signal Howland's arms were seized
+from behind, and in another instant he was struggling feebly in the
+grip of powerful arms which had fastened themselves about him like wire
+cable, and the cry that rose to his lips was throttled by a hand over
+his mouth. For an instant he caught a glimpse of the girl's white face
+as she stood in the trail; then strong hands pulled him back, while
+others bound his wrists and still others held his legs. Everything had
+passed in a few seconds. Helplessly bound and gagged he lay on his back
+in the snow, listening to the low voices that came faintly to him from
+beyond the bushes. He could understand nothing that they said--and yet
+he was sure that he recognized among them the voice of Meleese.
+
+The voices became fainter; he heard retreating footsteps, and at last
+they died away entirely. Through a rift in the trees straight above him
+the white, cold stars of the night gleamed down on him, and Howland
+stared up at them fixedly until they seemed to be hopping and dancing
+about in the skies. He wanted to swear--yell--fight. In these moments
+that he lay on his back in the freezing snow a million demons were born
+in his blood. The girl had betrayed him again! This time he could find
+no excuse--no pardon for her. She had accepted his love--had allowed him
+to kiss her, to hold her in his arms--while beneath that hypocrisy she
+had plotted his downfall a second time. Deliberately she had given the
+signal for attack, and now--
+
+He heard again the quick, running step that he had recognized on the
+trail. The bushes behind him parted, and in the white starlight Meleese
+fell on her knees at his side, her glorious face bending over him in a
+grief that he had never seen in it before, her eyes shining on him with
+a great love. Without speaking she lifted his head in the hollow of her
+arm and crushed her own down against it, kissing him, and softly
+sobbing his name.
+
+"Good-by," he heard her breathe. "Good-by--good-by--"
+
+He struggled to cry out as she lowered his head back on the snow, to
+free his hands, to hold her with him--but he saw her face only once
+more, bending over him; felt the warm pressure of her lips to his
+forehead, and then again he could hear her footsteps hurrying away
+through the forest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+A RACE INTO THE NORTH
+
+That Meleese loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had
+kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howland's brain for many
+minutes after she had left him bound and gagged on the snow. That she
+had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as
+significant. He still felt the sweet, warm touch of her lips, the
+pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair. It was not
+until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a
+full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened. He heard
+first of all the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the
+pattering of dogs' feet, and after that the voices of men. The sounds
+stopped on the trail a dozen feet away from him.
+
+With a strange thrill he recognized Croisset's voice.
+
+"You must be sure that you make no mistake," he heard the half-breed
+say. "Go to the waterfall at the head of the lake and heave down a big
+rock where the ice is open and the water boiling. Track up the snow with
+a pair of M'seur Howland's high-heeled boots and leave his hat tangled
+in the bushes. Then tell the superintendent that he stepped on the stone
+and that it rolled down and toppled him into the chasm. They could never
+find his body--and they will send down for a new engineer in place of
+the lost M'seur."
+
+Stupefied with horror, Howland strained his ears to catch the rest of
+the cold-blooded scheme which he was overhearing, but the voices grew
+lower and he understood no more that was said until Croisset, coming
+nearer, called out:
+
+"Help me with the M'seur before you go, Jackpine. He is a dead weight
+with all those rawhides about him."
+
+As coolly as though he were not more than a chunk of stovewood,
+Croisset and the Indian came through the bushes, seized him by the head
+and feet, carried him out into the trail and laid him lengthwise on
+the sledge.
+
+"I hope you have not caught cold lying in the snow, M'seur," said
+Croisset, bolstering up the engineer's head and shoulders and covering
+him with heavy furs. "We should have been back sooner, but it was
+impossible. Hoo-la, Woonga!" he called softly to his lead-dog. "Get up
+there, you wolf-hound!"
+
+As the sledge started, with Croisset running close to the leader,
+Howland heard the low snapping of a whip behind him and another voice
+urging on other dogs. With an effort that almost dislocated his neck he
+twisted himself so he could look back of him. A hundred yards away he
+discerned a second team following in his trail; he saw a shadowy figure
+running at the head of the dogs, but what there was on the sledge, or
+what it meant, he could not see or surmise. Mile after mile the two
+sledges continued without a stop. Croisset did not turn his head; no
+word fell from his lips, except an occasional signal to the dogs. The
+trail had turned now straight into the North, and soon Howland could
+make out no sign of it, but knew only that they were twisting through
+the most open places in the forests, and that the play of the Polar
+lights was never over his left shoulder or his right, but always in
+his face.
+
+They had traveled for several hours when Croisset gave a sudden shrill
+shout to the rearmost sledge and halted his own. The dogs fell in a
+panting group on the snow, and while they were resting the half-breed
+relieved his prisoner of the soft buckskin that had been used as a gag.
+
+"It will be perfectly safe for you to talk now, M'seur, and to shout as
+loudly as you please," he said. "After I have looked into your pockets I
+will free your hands so that you can smoke. Are you comfortable?"
+
+"Comfortable--be damned!" were the first words that fell from Howland's
+lips, and his blood boiled at the sociable way in which Croisset
+grinned down into his face. "So you're in it, too, eh?--and that
+lying girl--"
+
+The smile left Croisset's face.
+
+"Do you mean Meleese, M'seur Howland?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Croisset leaned down with his black eyes gleaming like coals.
+
+"Do you know what I would do if I was her, M'seur?" he said in a low
+voice, and yet one filled with a threat which stilled the words of
+passion which the engineer was on the point of uttering. "Do you know
+what I would do? I would kill you--kill you inch by inch--torture you.
+That is what I would do."
+
+"For God's sake, Croisset, tell me why--why--"
+
+Croisset had found Howland's pistol and freed his hands, and the
+engineer stretched them out entreatingly.
+
+"I would give my life for that girl, Croisset. I told her so back there,
+and she came to me when I was in the snow and--" He caught himself,
+adding to what he had left incomplete. "There is a mistake, Croisset. I
+am not the man they want to kill!"
+
+Croisset was smiling at him again.
+
+"Smoke--and think, M'seur. It is impossible for me to tell you why you
+should be dead--but you ought to know, unless your memory is shorter
+than a child's."
+
+He went to the dogs, stirring them up with the cracking of his whip, and
+when Howland turned to look back he saw a bright flare of light where
+the other sledge had stopped. A man's voice came from the farther gloom,
+calling to Croisset in French.
+
+"He tells me I am to take you on alone," said Croisset, after he had
+replied to the words spoken in a patois which Howland could not
+understand. "They will join us again very soon."
+
+"They!" exclaimed Howland. "How many will it take to kill me, my dear
+Croisset?" The half-breed smiled down into his face again.
+
+"You may thank the Blessed Virgin that they are with us," he replied
+softly. "If you have any hope outside of Heaven, M'seur, it is on that
+sledge behind."
+
+As he went again to the dogs, straightening the leader in his traces,
+Howland stared back at the firelit space in the forest gloom. He could
+see a man adding fuel to the blaze, and beyond him, shrouded in the deep
+shadows of the trees, an indistinct tangle of dogs and sledge. As he
+strained his eyes to discover more there was a movement beyond the
+figure over the fire and the young engineer's heart leaped with a sudden
+thrill. Croisset's voice sounded in a shrill shout behind him, and at
+that warning cry in French the second figure sprang back into the gloom.
+But Howland had recognized it, and the chilled blood in his veins leaped
+into warm life again at the knowledge that it was Meleese who was
+trailing behind them on the second sledge! "When you yell like that
+give me a little warning if you please, Jean," he said, speaking as
+coolly as though he had not recognized the figure that had come for an
+instant into the firelight. "It is enough to startle the life out
+of one!"
+
+"It is our way of saying good-by, M'seur," replied Croisset with a
+fierce snap of his whip. "Hoo-la, get along there!" he cried to the
+dogs, and in half a dozen breaths the fire was lost to view.
+
+Dawn comes at about eight o'clock in the northern mid-winter; beyond the
+fiftieth degree the first ruddy haze of the sun begins to warm the
+southeastern skies at nine, and its glow had already risen above the
+forests before Croisset stopped his team again. For two hours he had not
+spoken a word to his prisoner and after several unavailing efforts to
+break the other's taciturnity Howland lapsed into a silence of his own.
+When he had brought his tired dogs to a halt, Croisset spoke for the
+first time.
+
+"We are going to camp here for a few hours," he explained. "If you will
+pledge me your word of honor that you will make no attempt to escape I
+will give you the use of your legs until after breakfast, M'seur. What
+do you say?"
+
+"Have you a Bible, Croisset?"
+
+"No, M'seur, but I have the cross of our Virgin, given to me by the
+missioner at York Factory."
+
+"Then I will swear by it--I will swear by all the crosses and all the
+Bibles in the world that I will make no effort to escape. I am
+paralyzed, Croisset! I couldn't run for a week!"
+
+Croisset was searching in his pockets.
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" he cried excitedly, "I have lost it! Ah, come to think,
+M'seur, I gave the cross to my Mariane before I went into the South, But
+I will take your word."
+
+"And who is Mariane, Jean? Will she also be in at the 'kill?'"
+
+"Mariane is my wife, M'seur. Ah, _ma belle_ Mariane--_ma cheri_--the
+daughter of an Indian princess and the granddaughter of a _chef de
+bataillon_, M'seur! Could there be better than that? And she is
+be-e-e-utiful, M'seur, with hair like the top side of a raven's wing
+with the sun shining on it, and--"
+
+"You love her a great deal, Jean."
+
+"Next to the Virgin--and--it may be a little better."
+
+Croisset had severed the rope about the engineer's legs, and as he
+raised his glowing eyes Howland reached out and put both hands on his
+shoulders.
+
+"And in just that way I love Meleese," he said softly. "Jean, won't you
+be my friend? I don't want to escape. I'm not a coward. Won't you think
+of what your Mariane might do, and be a friend to me? You would die for
+Mariane if it were necessary. And I would die for the girl back on
+that sledge."
+
+He had staggered to his feet, and pointed into the forests through which
+they had come.
+
+"I saw her in the firelight, Jean. Why is she following us? Why do they
+want to kill me? If you would only give me a chance to prove that it is
+all a mistake--that I--"
+
+Croisset reached out and took his hand.
+
+"M'seur, I would like to help you," he interrupted. "I liked you that
+night we came in together from the fight on the trail. I have liked you
+since. And yet, if I was in _their_ place, I would kill you even though
+I like you. It is a great duty to kill you. They did not do wrong when
+they tied you in the coyote. They did not do wrong when they tried to
+kill you on the trail. But I have taken a solemn oath to tell you
+nothing; nothing beyond this--that so long as you are with me, and that
+sledge is behind us, your life is not in danger. I will tell you nothing
+more. Are you hungry, M'seur?"
+
+"Starved!" said Howland.
+
+He stumbled a few steps out into the snow, the numbness in his limbs
+forcing him to catch at trees and saplings to save himself from falling.
+He was astonished at Croisset's words and more confused than ever at the
+half-breed's assurance that his life was no longer in immediate peril.
+To him this meant that Meleese had not only warned him but was now
+playing an active part in preserving his life, and this conclusion added
+to his perplexity. Who was this girl who a few hours before had
+deliberately lured him among his enemies and who was now fighting to
+save him? The question held a deeper significance for him than when he
+had asked himself this same thing at Prince Albert, and when Croisset
+called for him to return to the camp-fire and breakfast he touched once
+more the forbidden subject.
+
+"Jean, I don't want to hurt your feelings," he said, seating himself on
+the sledge, "but I've got to get a few things out of my system. I
+believe this Meleese of yours is a bad woman."
+
+Like a flash Croisset struck at the bait which Howland threw out to him.
+He leaned a little forward, a hand quivering on his knife, his eyes
+flashing fire. Involuntarily the engineer recoiled from that animal-like
+crouch, from the black rage which was growing each instant in the
+half-breed's face. Yet Croisset spoke softly and without excitement,
+even while his shoulders and arms were twitching like a forest cat about
+to spring.
+
+"M'seur, no one in the world must say that about my Mariane, and next to
+her they must not say it about Meleese. Up there--" and he pointed still
+farther into the north--"I know of a hundred men between the Athabasca
+and the bay who would kill you for what you have said. And it is not for
+Jean Croisset to listen to it here. I will kill you unless you take
+it back!"
+
+"God!" breathed Howland. He looked straight into Croisset's face. "I'm
+glad--it's so--Jean," he added slowly. "Don't you understand, man? I
+love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her, too, Jean. I
+said that to find out--what you would do--"
+
+Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.
+
+"If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one."
+
+"It wasn't a joke," cried Howland. "It was a serious effort to make you
+tell me something about Meleese. Listen, Jean--she told me back there
+that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and
+gagged in the snow she came to me and--and kissed me. I don't
+understand--"
+
+Croisset interrupted him.
+
+"Did she do that, M'seur?"
+
+"I swear it."
+
+"Then you are fortunate," smiled Jean softly, "for I will stake my hope
+in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man,
+M'seur. But it will never happen again."
+
+"I believe that it will--unless you kill me."
+
+"And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to
+happen again. There are others who would kill you--knowing that it has
+happened but once. But you must stop this talk, M'seur. If you persist I
+shall put the rawhide over your mouth again."
+
+"And if I object--fight?"
+
+"You have given me your word of honor. Up here in the big snows the
+keeping of that word is our first law. If you break it I will kill you."
+
+"Good Lord, but you're a cheerful companion," exclaimed Howland,
+laughing in spite of himself. "Do you know, Croisset, this whole
+situation has a good deal of humor as well as tragedy about it. I must
+be a most important cuss, whoever I am. Ask me who I am, Croisset?"
+
+"And who are you, M'seur?"
+
+"I don't know, Jean. Fact, I don't. I used to think that I was a most
+ambitious young cub in a big engineering establishment down in Chicago.
+But I guess I was dreaming. Funny dream, wasn't it? Thought I came up
+here to build a road somewhere through these infernal---no, I mean these
+beautiful snows--but my mind must have been wandering again. Ever hear
+of an insane asylum, Croisset? Am I in a big stone building with iron
+bars at the windows, and are you my keeper, just come in to amuse me for
+a time? It's kind of you, Croisset, and I hope that some day I shall get
+my mind back so that I can thank you decently. Perhaps you'll go mad
+some day, Jean, and dream about pretty girls, and railroads, and
+forests, and snows--and then I'll be your keeper. Have a cigar? I've got
+just two left."
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_" gasped Jean. "Yes, I will smoke, M'seur. Is that moose
+steak good?"
+
+"Fine. I haven't eaten a mouthful since years ago, when I dreamed that I
+sat on a case of dynamite just about to blow up. Did you ever sit on a
+case of dynamite just about to blow up, Jean?"
+
+"No, M'seur. It must be unpleasant."
+
+"That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how white it
+is--whiter than the snow!"
+
+Croisset looked at him a little anxiously as he ate his meat, and at the
+gathering unrest in his ayes Howland burst into a laugh.
+
+"Don't be frightened, Jean," he spoke soothingly. "I'm harmless. But I
+promise you that I'll become violent unless something reasonable occurs
+pretty soon. Hello, are you going to start so soon?"
+
+"Right away, M'seur," said Croisset, who was stirring up the dogs. "Will
+you walk and run, or ride?"
+
+"Walk and run, with your permission."
+
+"You have it, M'seur, but if you attempt to escape I must shoot you. Run
+on the right of the dogs--even with me. I will take this side."
+
+Until Croisset stopped again in the middle of the afternoon Howland
+watched the backward trail for the appearance of the second sledge, but
+there was no sign of it. Once he ventured to bring up the subject to
+Croisset, who did no more than reply with a hunch of his shoulders and a
+quick look which warned the engineer to keep his silence. After their
+second meal the journey was resumed, and by referring occasionally to
+his compass Howland observed that the trail was swinging gradually to
+the eastward. Long before dusk exhaustion compelled him to ride once
+more on the sledge. Croisset seemed tireless, and under the early glow
+of the stars and the red moon he still led on the worn pack until at
+last it stopped on the summit of a mountainous ridge, with a vast plain
+stretching into the north as far as the eyes could see through the white
+gloom. The half-breed came back to where Howland was seated on
+the sledge.
+
+"We are going but a little farther, M'seur," he said. "I must replace
+the rawhide over your mouth and the thongs about your wrists. I am
+sorry--but I will leave your legs free."
+
+"Thanks," said Howland. "But, really, it is unnecessary, Croisset. I am
+properly subdued to the fact that fate is determined to play out this
+interesting game of ball with me, and no longer knowing where I am, I
+promise you to do nothing more exciting than smoke my pipe if you will
+allow me to go along peaceably at your side."
+
+Croisset hesitated.
+
+"You will not attempt to escape--and you will hold your tongue?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.
+
+"Bear in mind, M'seur, that I will kill you if you break your word. You
+may go ahead."
+
+And he pointed down the side of the mountain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE RED DEATH
+
+Half-way down the ridge a low word from Croisset stopped the engineer.
+Jean had toggled his team with a stout length of babeesh on the mountain
+top and he was looking back when Howland turned toward him. The sharp
+edge of that part of the mountain from which they were descending stood
+out in a clear-cut line against the sky, and on this edge the six dogs
+of the team sat squat on their haunches, silent and motionless, like
+strangely carved gargoyles placed there to guard the limitless plains
+below. Howland took his pipe from his mouth as he watched the staring
+interest of Croisset. From the man he looked up again at the dogs. There
+was something in their sphynx-like attitude, in the moveless reaching of
+their muzzles out into the wonderful starlit mystery of the still night
+that filled him with an indefinable sense of awe. Then there came to his
+ears the sound that had stopped Croisset--a low, moaning whine which
+seemed to have neither beginning nor end, but which was borne in on his
+senses as though it were a part of the soft movement of the air he
+breathed--a note of infinite sadness which held him startled and without
+movement, as it held Jean Croisset. And just as he thought that the
+thing had died away, the wailing came again, rising higher and higher,
+until at last there rose over him a single long howl that chilled the
+blood to his very marrow. It was like the wolf-howl of that first night
+he had looked on the wilderness, and yet unlike it; in the first it had
+been the cry of the savage, of hunger, of the unending desolation of
+life that had thrilled him. In this it was death. He stood shivering as
+Croisset came down to him, his thin face shining white in the starlight.
+There was no other sound save the excited beating of life in their own
+bodies when Jean spoke.
+
+"M'seur, our dogs howl like that only when some one is dead or about to
+die," he whispered. "It was Woonga who gave the cry. He has lived for
+eleven years and I have never known him to fail."
+
+There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.
+
+"I must tie your hands, M'seur."
+
+"But I have given you my word, Jean--"
+
+"Your hands, M'seur. There is already death below us in the plain, or it
+is to come very soon. I must tie your hands."
+
+Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong
+of babeesh.
+
+"I believe I understand," he spoke softly, listening again for the
+chilling wail from the mountain top. "You are afraid that I will
+kill you."
+
+"It is a warning, M'seur. You might try. But I should probably kill you.
+As it is--" he shrugged his shoulders as he led the way down the
+ridge--"as it is, there is small chance of Jean Croisset answering
+the call."
+
+"May those saints of yours preserve me, Jean, but this is all very
+cheerful!" grunted Howland, half laughing in spite of himself. "Now that
+I'm tied up again, who the devil is there to die--but me?"
+
+"That is a hard question, M'seur," replied the half-breed with grim
+seriousness. "Perhaps it is your turn. I half believe that it is."
+
+Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when there came again the
+moaning howl from the top of the ridge.
+
+"You're getting on my nerves, Jean--you and that accursed dog!"
+
+"Silence, M'seur!"
+
+Out of the grim loneliness at the foot of the mountain there loomed a
+shadow which at first Howland took to be a huge mass of rock. A few
+steps farther and he saw that it was a building. Croisset gripped him
+firmly by the arm.
+
+"Stay here," he commanded. "I will return soon."
+
+For a quarter of an hour Howland waited. Twice in that interval the dog
+howled above him. He was glad when Croisset appeared out of the gloom.
+
+"It is as I thought, M'seur. There is death down here. Come with me!"
+
+The shadow of the big building shrouded them as they approached. Howland
+could make out that it was built of massive logs and that there seemed
+to be neither door nor window on their side. And yet when Jean hesitated
+for an instant before a blotch of gloom that was deeper than the others,
+he knew that they had come to an entrance. Croisset advanced softly,
+sniffing the air suspiciously with his thin nostrils, and listening,
+with Howland so close to him that their shoulders touched. From the top
+of the mountain there came again the mournful death-song of old Woonga,
+and Jean shivered. Howland stared into the blotch of gloom, and still
+staring he followed Croisset--entered--and disappeared in it. About them
+was the stillness and the damp smell of desertion. There was no visible
+sign of life, no breathing, no movement but their own, and yet Howland
+could feel the half-breed's hand clutch him nervously by the arm as they
+went step by step into the black and silent mystery of the place. Soon
+there came a fumbling of Croisset's hand at a latch and they passed
+through a second door. Then Jean struck a match.
+
+Half a dozen steps away was a table and on the table a lamp. Croisset
+lighted it, and with a quiet laugh faced the engineer. They were in a
+low, dungeon-like chamber, without a window and with but the one door
+through which they had entered. The table, two chairs, a stove and a
+bunk built against one of the log walls were all that Howland could see.
+But it was not the barrenness of what he imagined was to be his new
+prison that held his eyes in staring inquiry on Croisset. It was the
+look in his companion's face, the yellow pallor of fear--a horror--that
+had taken possession of it. The half-breed closed and bolted the door,
+and then sat down beside the table, his thin face peering up through the
+sickly lamp-glow at the engineer.
+
+"M'seur, it would be hard for you to guess where you are."
+
+Howland waited.
+
+"If you had lived in this country long, M'seur, you would have heard of
+_la Maison de Mort Rouge_--the House of the Red Death, as you would call
+it. That is where we are--in the dungeon room. It is a Hudson Bay post,
+abandoned almost since I can remember. When I was a child the smallpox
+plague came this way and killed all the people. Nineteen years ago the
+red plague came again, and not one lived through it in this _Poste de
+Mort Rouge._ Since then it has been left to the weasels and the owls. It
+is shunned by every living soul between the Athabasca and the bay. That
+is why you are safe here."
+
+"Ye gods!" breathed Howland. "Is there anything more, Croisset? Safe
+from what, man? Safe from what?"
+
+"From those who wish to kill you, M'seur. You would not go into the
+South, so _la belle_ Meleese has compelled you to go into the North,
+_Comprenez-vous?_"
+
+For a moment Howland sat as if stunned.
+
+"Do you understand, M'seur?" persisted Croisset, smiling.
+
+"I--I--think I do," replied Howland tensely. "You mean--Meleese--"
+
+Jean took the words from him.
+
+"I mean that you would have died last night, M'seur, had it not been for
+Meleese. You escaped from the coyote--but you would not have escaped
+from the other. That is all I can tell you. But you will be safe here.
+Those who seek your life will soon believe that you are dead, and then
+we will let you go back. Is that not a kind fate for one who deserves to
+be cut into bits and fed to the ravens?"
+
+"You will tell me nothing more, Jean?" the engineer asked.
+
+"Nothing--except that while I would like to kill you I have sympathy for
+you. That, perhaps, is because I once lived in the South. For six years
+I was with the company in Montreal, where I went to school."
+
+He rose to his feet, tying the flap of his caribou skin coat about his
+throat. Then he unbolted and opened the door. Faintly there came to
+them, as if from a great distance, the wailing grief of Woonga, the dog.
+
+"You said there was death here," whispered Howland, leaning close to his
+shoulder.
+
+"There is one who has lived here since the last plague," replied
+Croisset under his breath. "He lost his wife and children and it drove
+him mad. That is why we came down so quietly. He lived in a little cabin
+out there on the edge of the clearing, and when I went to it to-night
+there was a sapling over the house with a flag at the end of it. When
+the plague comes to us we hang out a red flag as a warning to others.
+That is one of our laws. The flag is blown to tatters by the winds.
+He is dead."
+
+Howland shuddered.
+
+"Of the smallpox?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+For a few moments they stood in silence. Then Croisset added, "You will
+remain here, M'seur, until I return."
+
+He went out, closing and barring the door from the other side, and
+Howland seated himself again in the chair beside the table. Fifteen
+minutes later the half-breed returned, bearing with him a good-sized
+pack and a two-gallon jug.
+
+"There is wood back of the stove, M'seur. Here is food and water for a
+week, and furs for your bed. Now I will cut those thongs about
+your wrists."
+
+"Do you mean to say you're going to leave me here alone--in this
+wretched prison?" cried Howland.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, is it not better than a grave, M'seur? I will be back at
+the end of a week."
+
+The door was partly open and for the last time there came to Howland's
+ears the mourning howl of the old dog on the mountain top. Almost
+threateningly he gripped Croisset's arm.
+
+"Jean--if you don't come back--what will happen?"
+
+He heard the half-breed chuckling.
+
+"You will die, M'seur, pleasantly and taking your own time at it, which
+is much better than dying over a case of dynamite. But I will come back,
+M'seur. Good-by!"
+
+Again the door was closed and bolted and the sound of Croisset's
+footsteps quickly died away beyond the log walls. Many minutes passed
+before Howland thought of his pipe, or a fire. Then, shiveringly, he
+went to seek the fuel which Jean had told him was behind the stove. The
+old bay stove was soon roaring with the fire which he built, and as the
+soothing fumes of his pipe impregnated the damp air of the room he
+experienced a sensation of comfort which was in strange contrast to the
+exciting happenings of the past few days.
+
+At last he was alone, with nothing to do for a week but eat, sleep and
+smoke. He had plenty of tobacco and an inspection of the pack showed
+that Croisset had left him well stocked with food. Tilted back in a
+chair, with his feet on the table, he absorbed the cheerful heat from
+the stove, sent up clouds of smoke, and wondered if the half-breed had
+already started back into the South. What would MacDonald say when
+Jackpine came in with the report that he had slipped to his death in the
+waterfall? Probably his first move would be to send the most powerful
+team on the Wekusko in pursuit of Gregson and Thorne. The departing
+engineers would be compelled to return, and then--
+
+He laughed aloud and began pacing back and forth across the rotted floor
+of his prison as he pictured the consternation of the two seniors. And
+then a flush burned in his face and his eyes glowed as he thought of
+Meleese. In spite of himself she had saved him from his enemies, and he
+blessed Croisset for having told him the meaning of this flight into the
+North. Once again she had betrayed him, but this time it was to save his
+life, and his heart leaped in joyous faith at this proof of her love
+for him. He believed that he understood the whole scheme now. Even his
+enemies would think him dead. They would leave the Wekusko and after a
+time, when it was safe for him to return, he would be given his freedom.
+
+With the passing of the hours gloomier thoughts shadowed these
+anticipations. In some mysterious way Meleese was closely associated
+with those who sought his life, and if they disappeared she would
+disappear with them. He was convinced of that. And then--could he find
+her again? Would she go into the South--to civilization--or deeper into
+the untraveled wildernesses of the North? In answer to his question
+there flashed through his mind the words of Jean Croisset: "M'seur, I
+know of a hundred men between Athabasca and the bay who would kill you
+for what you have said." Yes, she would go into the North. Somewhere in
+that vast desolation of which Jean had spoken he would find her, even
+though he spent half of his life in the search!
+
+It was past midnight when he spread out the furs and undressed for bed.
+He opened the stove door and from the bunk watched the faint flickerings
+of the dying firelight on the log walls. As slumber closed his eyes he
+was conscious of a sound--the faint, hungerful, wailing cry to which he
+had listened that first night near Prince Albert. It was a wolf, and
+drowsily he wondered how he could hear the cry through the thick log
+walls of his prison. The answer came to him the moment he opened his
+eyes, hours later. A bit of pale sunlight was falling into the room and
+he saw that it entered through a narrow aperture close up to the
+ceiling. After he had prepared his breakfast he dragged the table under
+this aperture and by standing on it was enabled to peer through. A
+hundred yards away was the black edge of the spruce and balsam forest.
+Between him and the forest, half smothered in the deep snow, was a
+cabin, and he shuddered as he saw floating over it the little red signal
+of death of which Croisset had told him the night before.
+
+With the breaking of this day the hours seemed of interminable length.
+For a time he amused himself by searching every corner and crevice of
+his prison room, but he found nothing of interest beyond what he had
+already discovered. He examined the door which Croisset had barred on
+him, and gave up all hope of escape in that direction. He could barely
+thrust his arm through the aperture that opened out on the
+plague-stricken cabin. For the first time since the stirring beginning
+of his adventures at Prince Albert a sickening sense of his own
+impotency began to weigh on Howland. He was a prisoner--penned up in a
+desolate room in the heart of a wilderness. And he, Jack Howland, a man
+who had always taken pride in his physical prowess, had allowed one man
+to place him there.
+
+His blood began to boil as he thought of it. Now, as he had time and
+silence in which to look back on what had happened, he was enraged at
+the pictures that flashed one after another before him. He had allowed
+himself to be used as nothing more than a pawn in a strange and
+mysterious game. It was not through his efforts alone that he had been
+saved in the fight on the Saskatchewan trail. Blindly he had walked into
+the trap at the coyote. Still more blindly he had allowed himself to be
+led into the ambush at the Wekusko camp. And more like a child than a
+man he had submitted himself to Jean Croisset!
+
+He stamped back and forth across the room, smoking viciously, and his
+face grew red with the thoughts that were stirring venom within him. He
+placed no weight on circumstances; in these moments he found no excuse
+for himself. In no situation had he displayed the white feather, at no
+time had he felt a thrill of fear. His courage and recklessness had
+terrified Meleese, had astonished Croisset. And yet--what had he done?
+From the beginning--from the moment he first placed his foot in the
+Chinese cafe--his enemies had held the whip-hand. He had been compelled
+to play a passive part. Up to the point of the ambush on the Wekusko
+trail he might have found some vindication for himself. But this
+experience with Jean Croisset--it was enough to madden him, now that he
+was alone, to think about it. Why had _he_ not taken advantage of Jean,
+as Jackpine and the Frenchman had taken advantage of him?
+
+He saw now what he might have done. Somewhere, not very far back, the
+sledge carrying Meleese and Jackpine had turned into the unknown. They
+two were alone. Why had he not made Croisset a prisoner, instead of
+allowing himself to be caged up like a weakling? He swore aloud as there
+dawned on him more and more a realization of the opportunity he had
+lost. At the point of a gun he could have forced Croisset to overtake
+the other sledge. He could have surprised Jackpine, as they had
+surprised him on the trail. And then? He smiled, but there was no humor
+in the smile. He at least would have held the whip-hand. And what would
+Meleese have done?
+
+He asked himself question after question, answering them quickly and
+decisively in the same breath. Meleese loved him. He would have staked
+his life on that. His blood leaped as he felt again the thrill of her
+kisses when she had come to him as he lay bound and gagged beside the
+trail. She had taken his head in her arms, and through the grief of her
+face he had seen shining the light of a great love that had glorified it
+for all time for him. She loved him! And he had let her slip away from
+him, had weakly surrendered himself at a moment when everything that he
+had dreamed of might have been within his grasp. With Jackpine and
+Croisset in his power--
+
+He went no further. Was it too late to do these things now? Croisset
+would return. With a sort of satisfaction it occurred to him that his
+actions had disarmed the Frenchman of suspicion. He believed that it
+would be easy to overcome Croisset, to force him to follow in the trail
+of Meleese and Jackpine. And that trail? It would probably lead to the
+very stronghold of his enemies. But what of that? He loaded his pipe
+again, puffing out clouds of smoke until the room was thick with it.
+That trail would take him to Meleese--wherever she was. Heretofore his
+enemies had come to him; now he would go to them. With Croisset in his
+power, and with none of his enemies aware of his presence, everything
+would be in his favor. He laughed aloud as a sudden thrilling thought
+flashed into his mind. As a last resort he would use Jean as a decoy.
+
+He foresaw how easy it would be to bring Meleese to him--to see
+Croisset. His own presence would be like the dropping of a bomb at her
+feet. In that moment, when she saw what he was risking for her, that he
+was determined to possess her, would she not surrender to the pleading
+of his love? If not he would do the other thing--that which had brought
+the joyous laugh to his lips. All was fair in war and love, and theirs
+was a game of love. Because of her love for him Meleese had kidnapped
+him from his post of duty, had sent him a prisoner to this death-house
+in the wilderness. Love had exculpated her. That same love would
+exculpate him. He would make her a prisoner, and Jean should drive them
+back to the Wekusko. Meleese herself had set the pace and he would
+follow it. And what woman, if she loved a man, would not surrender after
+this? In their sledge trip he would have her to himself, for not only an
+hour or two, but for days. Surely in that time he could win. There would
+be pursuit, perhaps; he might have to fight--but he was willing, and a
+trifle anxious, to fight.
+
+He went to bed that night, and dreamed of things that were to happen. A
+second day, a third night, and a third day came. With each hour grew his
+anxiety for Jean's return. At times he was almost feverish to have the
+affair over with. He was confident of the outcome, and yet he did not
+fail to take the Frenchman's true measurement. He knew that Jean was
+like live wire and steel, as agile as a cat, more than a match with
+himself in open fight despite his own superior weight and size. He
+devised a dozen schemes for Jean's undoing. One was to leap on him
+while he was eating; another to spring on him and choke him into partial
+insensibility as he knelt beside his pack or fed the fire; a third to
+strike a blow from behind that would render him powerless. But there was
+something in this last that was repugnant to him. He remembered that
+Jean had saved his life, that in no instance had he given him physical
+pain. He would watch for an opportunity, take advantage of the
+Frenchman, as Croisset had taken advantage of him, but he would not hurt
+him seriously. It should be as fair a struggle as Jean had offered him,
+and with the handicap in his favor the best man would win.
+
+On the morning of the fourth day Howland was awakened by a sound that
+came through the aperture in the wall. It was the sharp yelping bark of
+a dog, followed an instant later by the sharper crack of a whip, and a
+familiar voice.
+
+Jean Croisset had returned!
+
+With a single leap he was out of his bunk. Half dressed he darted to
+the door, and crouched there, the muscles of his arms tightening, his
+body tense with the gathering forces within him.
+
+The spur of the moment had driven him to quick decision. His opportunity
+would come when Jean Croisset passed through that door!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+THE FIGHT
+
+Beyond the door Howland heard Jean pause. There followed a few moments
+silence, as though the other were listening for sound within. Then there
+came a fumbling at the bar and the door swung inward.
+
+"_Bon jour_, M'seur," called Jean's cheerful voice as he stepped inside.
+"Is it possible you are not up, with all this dog-barking and--"
+
+His eyes had gone to the empty bunk. Despite his cheerful greeting
+Howland saw that the Frenchman's face was haggard and pale as he turned
+quickly toward him. He observed no further than that, but flung his
+whole weight on the unprepared Croisset, and together they crashed to
+the floor. There was scarce a struggle and Jean lay still. He was flat
+on his back, his arms pinioned to his sides, and bringing himself
+astride the Frenchman's body so that each knee imprisoned an arm Howland
+coolly began looping the babeesh thongs that he had snatched from the
+table as he sprang to the door. Behind Howland's back Jean's legs shot
+suddenly upward. In a quick choking clutch of steel-like muscle they
+gripped about his neck like powerful arms and in another instant he was
+twisted backward with a force that sent him half neck-broken to the
+opposite wall. He staggered to his feet, dazed for a moment, and Jean
+Croisset stood in the middle of the floor, his caribou skin coat thrown
+off, his hands clenched, his eyes darkening with a dangerous fire. As
+quickly as it had come, the fire died away, and as he advanced slowly,
+his shoulders punched over, his white teeth gleamed in a smile. Howland
+smiled back, and advanced to meet him. There was no humor, no
+friendliness in the smiles. Both had seen that flash of teeth and deadly
+scintillation of eyes at other times, both knew what it meant.
+
+"I believe that I will kill you, M'seur," said Jean softly. There was
+no excitement, no tremble of passion in his voice. "I have been thinking
+that I ought to kill you. I had almost made up my mind to kill you when
+I came back to this _Maison de Mort Rouge_. It is the justice of God
+that I kill you!"
+
+The two men circled, like beasts in a pit, Howland in the attitude of a
+boxer, Jean with his shoulders bent, his arms slightly curved at his
+side, the toes of his moccasined feet bearing his weight. Suddenly he
+launched himself at the other's throat.
+
+In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing
+blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his
+back. Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet. It was the first time that
+he had ever come into contact with science. He was puzzled. His head
+rang, and for a few moments he was dizzy. He darted in again, in his
+old, quick, cat-like way, and received a blow that dazed him. This time
+he kept his feet.
+
+"I am sure now that I am going to kill you, M'seur," he said, as coolly
+as before.
+
+There was something terribly calm and decisive in his voice. He was not
+excited. He was not afraid. His fingers did not go near the weapons in
+his belt, and slowly the smile faded from Howland's lips as Jean circled
+about him. He had never fought a man of this kind; never had he looked
+on the appalling confidence that was in his antagonist's eyes. From
+those eyes, rather than from the man, he found himself slowly
+retreating. They followed him, never taking themselves from his face. In
+them the fire returned and grew deeper. Two dull red spots began to glow
+in Croisset's cheeks, and he laughed softly when he suddenly leaped in
+so that Howland struck at him--and missed. He knew what to expect now.
+And Howland knew what to expect.
+
+It was the science of one world pitted against that of another--the
+science of civilization against that of the wilderness. Howland was
+trained in his art. For sport Jean had played with wounded lynx; his was
+the quickness of sight, of instinct--the quickness of the great north
+loon that had often played this same game with his rifle-fire, of the
+sledge-dog whose ripping fangs carried death so quickly that eyes could
+not follow. A third and a fourth time he came within distance and
+Howland struck and missed.
+
+"I am going to kill you," he said again.
+
+To this point Howland had remained cool. Self-possession in his science
+he knew to be half the battle. But he felt in him now a slow, swelling
+anger. The smiling flash in Jean's eyes began to irritate him; the
+fearless, taunting gleam of his teeth, his audacious confidence, put him
+on edge. Twice again he struck out swiftly, but Jean had come and gone
+like a dart. His lithe body, fifty pounds lighter than Howland's, seemed
+to be that of a boy dodging him in some tantalizing sport. The Frenchman
+made no effort at attack; his were the tactics of the wolf at the heels
+of the bull moose, of the lynx before the prongs of a cornered
+buck--tiring, worrying, ceaseless.
+
+Howland's striking muscles began to ache and his breath was growing
+shorter with the exertions which seemed to have no effect on Croisset.
+For a few moments he took the aggressive, rushing Jean to the stove,
+behind the table, twice around the room--striving vainly to drive him
+into a corner, to reach him with one of the sweeping blows which
+Croisset evaded with the lightning quickness of a hell-diver. When he
+stopped, his breath came in wind-broken gasps. Jean drew nearer,
+smiling, ferociously cool.
+
+"I am going to kill you, M'seur," he repeated again.
+
+Howland dropped his arms, his fingers relaxed, and he forced his breath
+between his lips as if he were on the point of exhaustion. There were
+still a few tricks in his science, and these, he knew, were about his
+last cards. He backed into a corner, and Jean followed, his eyes
+flashing a steely light, his body growing more and more tense.
+
+"Now, M'seur, I am going to kill you," he said in the same low voice. "I
+am going to break your neck."
+
+Howland backed against the wall, partly turned as if fearing the other's
+attack, and yet without strength to repel it. There was a contemptuous
+smile on Croisset's lips as he poised himself for an instant. Then he
+leaped in, and as his fingers gripped at the other's throat Howland's
+right arm shot upward in a deadly short-arm punch that caught his
+antagonist under the jaw. Without a sound Jean staggered back, tottered
+for a moment on his feet, and fell to the floor. Fifty seconds later he
+opened his eyes to find his hands bound behind his back and Howland
+standing at his feet.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but that was a good one!" he gasped, after he had taken a
+long breath or two. "Will you teach it to me, M'seur?"
+
+"Get up!" commanded Howland. "I have no time to waste, Croisset." He
+caught the Frenchman by the shoulders and helped him to a chair near the
+table. Then he took possession of the other's weapons, including the
+revolver which Jean had taken from him, and began to dress. He spoke no
+word until he was done.
+
+"Do you understand what is going to happen Croisset?" he cried then, his
+eyes blazing hotly. "Do you understand that what you have done will put
+you behind prison bars for ten years or more? Does it dawn on you that
+I'm going to take you back to the authorities, and that as soon as we
+reach the Wekusko I'll have twenty men back on the trail of these
+friends of yours?"
+
+A gray pallor spread itself over Jean's thin face.
+
+"The great God, M'seur, you can not do that!"
+
+"_Can not!_" Howland's fingers dug into the edge of the table. "By this
+great God of yours, Croisset, but I will! And why not? Is it because
+Meleese is among this gang of cut-throats and murderers? Pish, my dear
+Jean, you must be a fool. They tried to kill me on the trail, tried it
+again in the coyote, and you came back here determined to kill me.
+You've held the whip-hand from the first. Now it's mine. I swear that if
+I take you back to the Wekusko we'll get you all."
+
+"_If_, M'seur?"
+
+"Yes--_if_."
+
+"And that 'if'--" Jean was straining against the table.
+
+"It rests with you, Croisset. I will bargain with you. Either I shall
+take you back to the Wekusko, hand you over to the authorities and send
+a force after the others--or you shall take me to Meleese. Which
+shall it be?"
+
+"And if I take you to Meleese, M'seur?"
+
+Howland straightened, his voice trembling a little with excitement.
+
+"If you take me to Meleese, and swear to do as I say, I shall bring no
+harm to you or your friends."
+
+"And Meleese--" Jean's eyes darkened again, "You will not harm her,
+M'seur?"
+
+"Harm _her_!" There was a laughing tremor in Howland's voice. "Good God,
+man, are you so blind that you can't see that I am doing this because of
+her? I tell you that I love her, and that I am willing to die in
+fighting for her. Until now I haven't had the chance. You and your
+friends have played a cowardly underhand game, Croisset. You have taken
+me from behind at every move, and now it's up to you to square yourself
+a little or there's going to be hell to pay. Understand? You take me to
+Meleese or there'll be a clean-up that will put you and the whole bunch
+out of business. _Harm her_--" Again Howland laughed, leaning his white
+face toward Jean. "Come, which shall it be, Croisset?"
+
+A cold glitter, like the snap of sparks from striking steels, shot from
+the Frenchman's eyes. The grayish pallor went from his face. His teeth
+gleamed in the enigmatic smile that had half undone Howland in
+the fight.
+
+"You are mistaken in some things, M'seur," he said quietly. "Until
+to-day I have fought for you and not against you. But now you have left
+me but one choice. I will take you to Meleese, and that means--"
+
+"Good!" cried Howland.
+
+"La, la, M'seur--not so good as you think. It means that as surely as
+the dogs carry us there you will never come back. _Mon Dieu,_ your death
+is certain!"
+
+Howland turned briskly to the stove.
+
+"Hungry, Jean?" he asked more companionably. "Let's not quarrel, man.
+You've had your fun, and now I'm going to have mine. Have you had
+breakfast?"
+
+"I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur," replied Jean with
+grim humor.
+
+"And then--after I had fed you--you were going to kill me, my dear
+Jean," laughed Howland, flopping a huge caribou steak on the naked top
+of the sheet-iron stove. "Real nice fellow you are, eh?"
+
+"You ought to be killed, M'seur."
+
+"So you've said before. When I see Meleese I'm going to know the reason
+why, or--"
+
+"Or what, M'seur?"
+
+"Kill you, Jean. I've just about made up my mind that you ought to be
+killed. If any one dies up where we're going, Croisset, it will be you
+first of all."
+
+Jean remained silent. A few minutes later Howland brought the caribou
+steak, a dish of flour cakes and a big pot of coffee to the table. Then
+he went behind Jean and untied his hands. When he sat down at his own
+side of the table he cocked his revolver and placed it beside his tin
+plate. Jean grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"It means business," said his captor warningly. "If at any time I think
+you deserve it I shall shoot you in your tracks, Croisset, so don't
+arouse my suspicions."
+
+"I took your word of honor," said Jean sarcastically.
+
+"And I will take yours to an extent," replied Howland, pouring the
+coffee. Suddenly he picked up the revolver. "You never saw me shoot, did
+you? See that cup over there?" He pointed to a small tin pack-cup
+hanging to a nail on the wall a dozen paces from them. Three times
+without missing he drove bullets through it, and smiled across
+at Croisset.
+
+"I am going to give you the use of your arms and legs, except at night,"
+he said.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, it is safe," grunted Jean. "I give you my word that I will
+be good, M'seur."
+
+The sun was up when Croisset led the way outside. His dogs and sledge
+were a hundred yards from the building, and Howland's first move was to
+take possession of the Frenchman's rifle and eject the cartridges while
+Jean tossed chunks of caribou flesh to the huskies. When they were ready
+to start Jean turned slowly and half reached out a mittened hand to
+the engineer.
+
+"M'seur," he said softly, "I can not help liking you, though I know that
+I should have killed you long ago. I tell you again that if you go into
+the North there is only one chance in a hundred that you will come back
+alive. Great God, M'seur, up where you wish to go the very trees will
+fall on you and the carrion ravens pick, out your eyes! And that
+chance--that one chance in a hundred, M'seur--"
+
+"I will take," interrupted Howland decisively.
+
+"I was going to say, M'seur," finished Jean quietly, "that unless
+accident has befallen those who left Wekusko yesterday that one chance
+is gone. If you go South you are safe. If you go into the North you are
+no better than a dead man."
+
+"There will at least be a little fun at the finish," laughed the young
+engineer. "Come, Jean, hit up the dogs!"
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, I say you are a fool--and a brave man," said Croisset, and
+his whip twisted sinuously in mid-air and cracked in sharp command over
+the yellow backs of the huskies.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+THE PURSUIT
+
+Behind the sledge ran Howland, to the right of the team ran Jean. Once
+or twice when Croisset glanced back his eyes met those of the engineer.
+He cracked his whip and smiled, and Howland's teeth gleamed back coldly
+in reply. A mutual understanding flashed between them in these glances.
+In a sudden spurt Howland knew that the Frenchman could quickly put
+distance between them--but not a distance that his bullets could not
+cover in the space of a breath. He had made up his mind to fire,
+deliberately and with his greatest skill, if Croisset made the slightest
+movement toward escape. If he was compelled to kill or wound his
+companion he could still go on alone with the dogs, for the trail of
+Meleese and Jackpine would be as plain as their own, which they were
+following back into the South.
+
+For the second time since coming into the North he felt the blood
+leaping through his veins as on that first night in Prince Albert when
+from the mountain he had heard the lone wolf, and when later he had seen
+the beautiful face through the hotel window. Howland was one of the few
+men who possess unbounded confidence in themselves, who place a certain
+pride in their physical as well as their mental capabilities, and he was
+confident now. His successful and indomitable fight over obstacles in a
+big city had made this confidence a genuine part of his being. It was a
+confidence that flushed his face with joyous enthusiasm as he ran after
+the dogs, and that astonished and puzzled Jean Croisset.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but you are a strange man!" exclaimed the Frenchman when he
+brought the dogs down to a walk after a half mile run. "Blessed saints,
+M'seur, you are laughing--and I swear it is no laughing matter."
+
+"Shouldn't a man be happy when he is going to his wedding, Jean?"
+puffed Howland, gasping to get back the breath he had lost.
+
+"But not when he's going to his funeral, M'seur."
+
+"If I were one of your blessed saints I'd hit you over the head with a
+thunderbolt, Croisset. Good Lord, what sort of a heart have you got
+inside of your jacket, man? Up there where we're going is the sweetest
+little girl in the whole world. I love her. She loves me. Why shouldn't
+I be happy, now that I know I'm going to see her again very soon--and
+take her back into the South with me?"
+
+"The devil!" grunted Jean.
+
+"Perhaps you're jealous, Croisset," suggested Howland. "Great Scott, I
+hadn't thought of _that!_"
+
+"I've got one of my own to love, M'seur; and I wouldn't trade her for
+all else in the world."
+
+"Damned if I can understand you," swore the engineer. "You appear to be
+half human; you say you're in love, and yet you'd rather risk your life
+than help out Meleese and me. What the deuce does it mean?"
+
+"That's what I'm doing, M'seur--helping Meleese. I would have done her a
+greater service if I had killed you back there on the trail and stripped
+your body for those things that would be foul enough to eat it. I have
+told you a dozen times that it is God's justice that you die. And you
+are going to die--very soon, M'seur."
+
+"No, I'm not going to die, Jean. I'm going to see Meleese, and she's
+going back into the South with me. And if you're real good you may have
+the pleasure of driving us back to the Wekusko, Croisset, and you can be
+my best man at the wedding. What do you say to that?"
+
+"That you are mad--or a fool," retorted Jean, cracking his whip
+viciously.
+
+The dogs swung sharply from the trail, heading from their southerly
+course into the northwest.
+
+"We will save a day by doing this," explained Croisset at the other's
+sharp word of inquiry. "We will hit the other trail twenty miles west of
+here, while by following back to where they turned we would travel sixty
+miles to reach the same point. That one chance in a hundred which you
+have depends on this, M'seur. If the other sledge has passed--"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders and started the dogs into a trot.
+
+"Look here," cried Howland, running beside him. "Who is with this other
+sledge?"
+
+"Those who tried to kill you on the trail and at the coyote, M'seur," he
+answered quickly.
+
+Howland fell half a dozen paces behind. By the end of the first hour he
+was compelled to rest frequently by taking to the sledge, and their
+progress was much slower. Jean no longer made answer to his occasional
+questions. Doggedly he swung on ahead to the right and a little behind
+the team leader, and Howland could see that for some reason Croisset was
+as anxious as himself to make the best time possible. His own
+impatience increased as the morning lengthened. Jean's assurance that
+the mysterious enemies who had twice attempted his life were only a
+short distance behind them, or a short distance ahead, set a new and
+desperate idea at work in his brain. He was confident that these men
+from the Wekusko were his chief menace, and that with them once out of
+the way, and with the Frenchman in his power, the fight which he was
+carrying into the enemy's country would be half won. There would then be
+no one to recognize him but Meleese.
+
+His heart leaped with joyous hope, and he leaned forward on the sledge
+to examine Croisset's empty gun. It was an automatic, and Croisset,
+glancing back over the loping backs of the huskies, caught him smiling.
+He ran more frequently now, and longer distances, and with the passing
+of each mile his determination to strike a decisive blow increased. If
+they reached the trail of Meleese and Jackpine before the crossing of
+the second sledge he would lay in wait for his old enemies; if they had
+preceded them he would pursue and surprise them in camp. In either case
+he would possess an overwhelming advantage.
+
+With the same calculating attention to detail that he would have shown
+in the arrangement of plans for the building of a tunnel or a bridge, he
+drew a mental map of his scheme and its possibilities. There would be at
+least two men with the sledge, and possibly three. If they surrendered
+at the point of his rifle without a fight he would compel Jean to tie
+them up with dog-traces while he held them under cover. If they made a
+move to offer resistance he would shoot. With the automatic he could
+kill or wound the three before they could reach their rifles, which
+would undoubtedly be on the sledge. The situation had now reached a
+point where he no longer took into consideration what these men might be
+to Meleese.
+
+As they continued into the northwest Howland noted that the thicker
+forest was gradually clearing into wide areas of small banskian pine,
+and that the rock ridges and dense swamps which had impeded their
+progress were becoming less numerous. An hour before noon, after a
+tedious climb to the top of a frozen ridge, Croisset pointed down into a
+vast level plain lying between them and other great ridges far to
+the north.
+
+"That is a bit of the Barren Lands that creeps down between those
+mountains off there, M'seur," he said. "Do you see that black forest
+that looks like a charred log in the snow to the south and west of the
+mountains? That is the break that leads into the country of the
+Athabasca. Somewhere between this point and that we will strike the
+trail. Mon Dieu, I had half expected to see them out there on
+the plain."
+
+"Who? Meleese and Jackpine, or--"
+
+"No, the others, M'seur. Shall we have dinner here?"
+
+"Not until we hit the trail," replied Howland. "I'm anxious to know
+about that one chance in a hundred you've given me hope of, Croisset. If
+they have passed--"
+
+"If they are ahead of us you might just as well stand out there and let
+me put a bullet through you, M'seur."
+
+He went to the head of the dogs, guiding them down the rough side of the
+ridge, while Howland steadied the toboggan from behind. For
+three-quarters of an hour they traversed the low bush of the plain in
+silence. From every rising snow hummock Jean scanned the white
+desolation about them, and each time, as nothing that was human came
+within his vision, he turned toward the engineer with a sinister shrug
+of his shoulders. Once three moving caribou, a mile or more away,
+brought a quick cry to his lips and Howland noticed that a sudden flush
+of excitement came into his face, replaced in the next instant by a look
+of disappointment. After this he maintained a more careful guard over
+the Frenchman. They had covered less than half of the distance to the
+caribou trail when in a small open space free of bush Croisset's voice
+rose sharply and the team stopped.
+
+"What do you think of it, M'seur?" he cried, pointing to the snow.
+"What do you think of that?"
+
+Barely cutting into the edge of the open was the broken crust of two
+sledge trails. For a moment Howland forgot his caution and bent over to
+examine the trails, with his back to his companion. When he looked up
+there was a curious laughing gleam in Jean's eyes.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, but you are careless!" he exclaimed. "Be more careful,
+M'seur. I may give myself up to another temptation like that."
+
+"The deuce you say!" cried Howland, springing back quickly. "I'm much
+obliged, Jean. If it wasn't for the moral effect of the thing I'd shake
+hands with you on that. How far ahead of us do you suppose they are?"
+
+Croisset had fallen on his knees in the trail.
+
+"The crust is freshly broken," he said after a moment. "They have been
+gone not less than two or three hours, perhaps since morning. See this
+white glistening surface over the first trail, M'seur, like a billion
+needle-points growing out of it? That is the work of three or four
+days' cold. The first sledge passed that long ago."
+
+Howland turned and picked up Croisset's rifle. The Frenchman watched him
+as he slipped a clip full of cartridges into the breech.
+
+"If there's a snack of cold stuff in the pack dig it out," he commanded.
+"We'll eat on the run, if you've got anything to eat. If you haven't,
+we'll go hungry. We're going to overtake that sledge sometime this
+afternoon or to-night--or bust!"
+
+"The saints be blessed, then we are most certain to bust, M'seur,"
+gasped Jean. "And if we don't the dogs will. Non, it is impossible!"
+
+"Is there anything to eat?"
+
+"A morsel of cold meat--that is all. But I say that it is impossible.
+That sledge--"
+
+Howland interrupted him with an impatient gesture.
+
+"And I say that if there is anything to eat in there, get it out, and be
+quick about it, Croisset. We're going to overtake those precious
+friends of yours, and I warn you that if you make any attempt to lose
+time something unpleasant is going to happen. Understand?"
+
+Jean had bent to unstrap one end of the sledge pack and an angry flash
+leaped into his eyes at the threatening tone of the engineer's voice.
+For a moment he seemed on the point of speech, but caught himself and in
+silence divided the small chunk of meat which he drew from the pack,
+giving the larger share to Howland as he went to the head of the dogs.
+Only once or twice during the next hour did he look back, and after each
+of these glances he redoubled his efforts at urging on the huskies.
+Before they had come to the edge of the black banskian forest which Jean
+had pointed out from the farther side of the plain, Howland saw that the
+pace was telling on the team. The leader was trailing lame, and now and
+then the whole pack would settle back in their traces, to be urged on
+again by the fierce cracking of Croisset's long whip. To add to his own
+discomfiture Howland found that he could no longer keep up with Jean
+and the dogs, and with his weight added to the sledge the huskies
+settled down into a tugging walk.
+
+Thus they came into the deep low forest, and Jean, apparently oblivious
+of the exhaustion of both man and dogs, walked now in advance of the
+team, his eyes constantly on the thin trail ahead. Howland could not
+fail to see that his unnecessary threat of a few hours before still
+rankled in the Frenchman's mind, and several times he made an effort to
+break the other's taciturnity. But Jean strode on in moody silence,
+answering only those things which were put to him directly, and speaking
+not an unnecessary word. At last the engineer jumped from the sledge and
+overtook his companion.
+
+"Hold on, Jean," he cried. "I've got enough. You're right, and I want to
+apologize. We're busted--that is, the dogs and I are busted, and we
+might as well give it up until we've had a feed. What do you say?"
+
+"I say that you have stopped just in time, M'seur," replied Croisset
+with purring softness. "Another half hour and we would have been through
+the forest, and just beyond that--in the edge of the plain--are those
+whom you seek, Meleese and her people. That is what I started to tell
+you back there when you shut me up. _Mon Dieu_, if it were not for
+Meleese I would let you go on. And then--what would happen then, M'seur,
+if you made your visit to them in broad day? Listen!"
+
+Jean lifted a warning hand. Faintly there came to them through the
+forest the distant baying of a hound.
+
+"That is one of our dogs from the Mackenzie country," he went on softly,
+an insinuating triumph in his low voice. "Now, M'seur, that I have
+brought you here what are you going to do? Shall we go on and take
+dinner with those who are going to kill you, or will you wait a few
+hours? Eh, which shall it be?"
+
+For a moment Howland stood motionless, stunned by the Frenchman's words.
+Quickly he recovered himself. His eyes burned with a metallic gleam as
+they met the half taunt in Croisset's cool smile.
+
+"If I had not stopped you--we would have gone on?" he questioned
+tensely.
+
+"To be sure, M'seur," retorted Croisset, still smiling. "You warned me
+to lose no time--that something would happen if I did."
+
+With a quick movement Howland drew his revolver and leveled it at the
+Frenchman's heart.
+
+"If you ever prayed to those blessed saints of yours, do it now, Jean
+Croisset. I'm going to kill you!" he cried fiercely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+THE GLEAM OF THE LIGHT
+
+In a single breath the face of Jean Croisset became no more than a mask
+of what it had been. The taunting smile left his lips and a gray pallor
+spread over his face as he saw Howland's finger crooked firmly on the
+trigger of his revolver. In another instant there came the sound of a
+metallic snap.
+
+"Damnation! An empty cartridge!" Howland exclaimed. "I forgot to load
+after those three shots at the cup. It's coming this time, Jean!"
+
+Purposely he snapped the second empty cartridge.
+
+"The great God!" gasped Jean. "M'seur--"
+
+From deep in the forest came again the baying of the Mackenzie hound.
+This time it was much nearer, and for a moment Howland's eyes left the
+Frenchman's terrified face as he turned his head to listen.
+
+"They are coming!" exclaimed Croisset. "M'seur, I swear to--"
+
+Again Howland's pistol covered his heart.
+
+"Then it is even more necessary that I kill you," he said with frightful
+calmness. "I warned you that I would kill you if you led me into a trap,
+Croisset. The dogs are bushed. There is no way out of this but to
+fight--if there are people coming down the trail. Listen to that!"
+
+This time, from still nearer, came the shout of a man, and then of
+another, followed by the huskies' sharp yelping as they started afresh
+on the trail. The flush of excitement that had come into Howland's face
+paled until he stood as white as the Frenchman. But it was not the
+whiteness of fear. His eyes were like blue steel flashing in
+the sunlight.
+
+"There is nothing to do but fight," he repeated, even more calmly than
+before. "If we were a mile or two back there it could all happen as I
+planned it. But here--"
+
+"They will hear the shots," cried Jean. "The post is no more than a
+gunshot beyond the forest, and there are plenty there who would come out
+to see what it means. Quick, M'seur--follow me. Possibly they are
+hunters going out to the trap-lines. If it comes to the worst--"
+
+"What then?" demanded Howland.
+
+"You can shoot me a little later," temporized the Frenchman with a show
+of his old coolness. "_Mon Dieu_, I am afraid of that gun, M'seur. I
+will get you out of this if I can. Will you give me the chance--or will
+you shoot?"
+
+"I will shoot--if you fail," replied the engineer.
+
+Barely were the words out of his mouth when Croisset sprang to the head
+of the dogs, seized the leader by his neck-trace and half dragged the
+team and sledge through the thick bush that edged the trail. A dozen
+paces farther on the dense scrub opened into the clearer run of the
+low-hanging banskian through which Jean started at a slow trot, with
+Howland a yard behind him, and the huskies following with human-like
+cleverness in the sinuous twistings of the trail which the Frenchman
+marked out for them. They had progressed not more than three hundred
+yards when there came to them for a third time the hallooing of a voice.
+With a sharp "hup, hup," and a low crack of his whip Jean stopped
+the dogs.
+
+"The Virgin be praised, but that is luck!" he exclaimed. "They have
+turned off into another trail to the east, M'seur. If they had come on
+to that break in the bush where we dragged the sledge through--" He
+shrugged his shoulders with a gasp of relief. "_Sacre_, they would not
+be fools enough to pass it without wondering!"
+
+Howland had broken the breech of his revolver and was replacing the
+three empty cartridges with fresh ones.
+
+"There will be no mistake next time," he said, holding out the weapon.
+"You were as near your death a few moments ago as ever before in your
+life, Croisset--and now for a little plain understanding between us.
+Until we stopped out there I had some faith in you. Now I have none. I
+regard you as my worst enemy, and though you are deuced near to your
+friends I tell you that you were never in a tighter box in your life. If
+I fail in my mission here, you shall die. If others come along that
+trail before dark, and run us down, I will kill you. Unless you make it
+possible for me to see and talk with Meleese I will kill you. Your life
+hangs on my success; with my failure your death is as certain as the
+coming of night. I am going to put a bullet through you at the slightest
+suspicion of treachery. Under the circumstances what do you propose
+to do?"
+
+"I am glad that you changed your mind, M'seur, and I will not tempt you
+again. I will do the best that I can," said Jean. Through a narrow break
+in the tops of the banskian pines a few feathery flakes of snow were
+falling, and Jean lifted his eyes to the slit of gray sky above them.
+"Within an hour it will be snowing heavily," he affirmed. "If they do
+not run across our trail by that time, M'seur, we shall be safe."
+
+He led the way through the forest again, more slowly and with greater
+caution than before, and whenever he looked over his shoulder he caught
+the dull gleam of Howland's revolver as it pointed at the hollow of
+his back.
+
+"The devil, but you make me uncomfortable," he protested. "The hammer is
+up, too, M'seur!"
+
+"Yes, it is up," said Howland grimly. "And it never leaves your back,
+Croisset. If the gun should go off accidentally it would bore a hole
+clean through you."
+
+Half an hour later the Frenchman halted where the banskians climbed the
+side of a sloping ridge.
+
+"If you could trust me I would ask to go on ahead," whispered Jean.
+"This ridge shuts in the plain, M'seur, and just over the top of it is
+an old cabin which has been abandoned for many years. There is not one
+chance in a thousand of there being any one there, though it is a good
+fox ridge at this season. From it you may see the light in Meleese's
+window at night."
+
+He did not stop to watch the effect of his last words, but began picking
+his way up the ridge with the dogs tugging at his heels. At the top he
+swung sharply between two huge masses of snow-covered rock, and in the
+lee of the largest of these, almost entirely sheltered from the drifts
+piled up by easterly winds, they came suddenly on a small log hut. About
+it there were no signs of life. With unusual eagerness Jean scanned the
+surface of the snow, and when he saw that there was trail of neither man
+nor beast in the unbroken crust a look of relief came into his face.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, so far I have saved my hide," he grinned. "Now, M'seur,
+look for yourself and see if Jean Croisset has not kept his word!"
+
+A dozen steps had taken him through a screen of shrub to the opposite
+slope of the ridge. With outstretched arm he pointed down into the
+plain, and as Howland's eyes followed its direction he stood throbbing
+with sudden excitement. Less than a quarter of a mile away, sheltered in
+a dip of the plain, were three or four log buildings rising black and
+desolate out of the white waste. One of these buildings was a large
+structure similar to that in which Howland had been imprisoned, and as
+he looked a team and sledge appeared from behind one of the cabins and
+halted close to the wall of the large building. The driver was plainly
+visible, and to Howland's astonishment he suddenly began to ascend the
+side of this wall. For the moment Howland had not thought of a stair.
+
+Jean's attitude drew his eyes. The Frenchman had thrust himself half out
+of the screening bushes and was staring through the telescope of his
+hands. With an exclamation he turned quickly to the engineer.
+
+"Look, M'seur! Do you see that man climbing the stair? I don't mind
+telling you that he is the one who hit you over the head on the trail,
+and also one of those who shut you up in the coyote. Those are his
+quarters at the post, and possibly he is going up to see Meleese. If you
+were much of a shot you could settle a score or two from here, M'seur."
+
+The figure had stopped, evidently on a platform midway up the side of
+the building. He stood for a moment as if scanning the plain between him
+and the mountain, then disappeared. Howland had not spoken a word, but
+every nerve in his body tingled strangely.
+
+"You say Meleese--is there?" he questioned hesitatingly. "And he--who is
+that man, Croisset?"
+
+Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning
+leisurely toward the old cabin.
+
+"_Non_, M'seur, I will not tell you that," he protested. "I have brought
+you to this place. I have pointed out to you the stair that leads to the
+room where you will find Meleese. You may cut me into ribbons for the
+ravens, but I will tell you no more!"
+
+Again the threatening fire leaped into Howland's eyes.
+
+"I will trouble you to put your hands behind your back, Croisset," he
+commanded. "I am going to return a certain compliment of yours by tying
+your hands with this piece of babeesh, which you used on me.
+After that--"
+
+"And after that, M'seur--" urged Jean, with a touch of the old taunt in
+his voice, and stopping with his back to the engineer and his hands
+behind him. "After that?"
+
+"You will tell me all that I want to know," finished Howland, tightening
+the thong about his wrists.
+
+He led the way then to the cabin. The door was closed, but opened
+readily as he put his weight against it. The single room was lighted by
+a window through which a mass of snow had drifted, and contained nothing
+more than a rude table built against one of the log walls, three supply
+boxes that had evidently been employed as stools, and a cracked and
+rust-eaten sheet-iron stove that had from all appearances long passed
+into disuse. He motioned the Frenchman to a seat at one end of the
+table. Without a word he then went outside, securely toggled the leading
+dog, and returning, closed the door and seated himself at the end of the
+table opposite Jean.
+
+The light from the open window fell full on Croisset's dark face and
+shone in a silvery streak along the top of Howland's revolver as the
+muzzle of it rested casually on a line with the other's breast. There
+was a menacing click as the engineer drew back the hammer.
+
+"Now, my dear Jean, we're ready to begin the real game," he explained.
+"Here we are, high and dry, and down there--just far enough away to be
+out of hearing of this revolver when I shoot--are those we're going to
+play against. So far I've been completely in the dark. I know of no
+reason why I shouldn't go down there openly and be welcomed and given a
+good supper. And yet at the same time I know that my life wouldn't be
+worth a tinker's damn if I _did_ go down. You can clear up the whole
+business, and that's what you're going to do. When I understand why I am
+scheduled to be murdered on sight I won't be handicapped as I now am. So
+go ahead and spiel. If you don't, I'll blow your head off."
+
+Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and
+defiant.
+
+"You may shoot, M'seur," he said quietly. "I have sworn on a cross of
+the Virgin to tell you no more than I have. You could not torture me
+into revealing what you ask."
+
+Slowly Howland raised his revolver.
+
+"Once more, Croisset--will you tell me?"
+
+"_Non_, M'seur--"
+
+A deafening explosion filled the little cabin. From the lobe of Jean's
+ear there ran a red trickle of blood. His face had gone deathly pale.
+But even as the bullet had stung him within an inch of his brain he had
+not flinched.
+
+"Will you tell me, Croisset?"
+
+This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely
+between the Frenchman's eyes.
+
+"_Non_, M'seur."
+
+The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel. With a cry Howland
+slowly lowered his weapon.
+
+"Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!" he cried. "I'd sooner
+kill a dozen men that I know than you!"
+
+He rose to his feet and went to the door. There was still but little
+snow in the air. To the north the horizon was growing black with the
+early approach of the northern night. With a nervous laugh he
+returned to Jean.
+
+"Deuce take it if I don't feel like apologizing to you," he exclaimed.
+"Does your ear hurt?"
+
+"No more than if I had scratched it with a thorn," returned Jean
+politely. "You are good with the pistol, M'seur."
+
+"I would not profit by killing you--just now," mused Howland, seating
+himself again on the box and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as
+he looked across at the other. "But that's a pretty good intimation that
+I'm desperate and mean business, Croisset. We won't quarrel about the
+things I've asked you. What I'm here for is to see Meleese. Now--how is
+that to happen?"
+
+"For the life of me I don't know," replied Jean, as calmly as though a
+bullet had not nipped the edge of his ear a moment before. "There is
+only one way I can see, M'seur, and that is to wait and watch from this
+mountain top until Meleese drives out her dogs. She has her own team,
+and in ordinary seasons frequently goes out alone or with one of the
+women at the post. _Mon Dieu_, she has had enough sledge-riding of late,
+and I doubt if she will find pleasure in her dogs for a long time."
+
+"I had planned to use you," said Howland, "but I've lost faith in you.
+Honestly, Croisset, I believe you would stick me in the back almost as
+quickly as those murderers down there." "Not in the back, M'seur,"
+smiled the Frenchman, unmoved. "I have had opportunities to do that.
+_Non_, since that fight back there I do not believe that I want to
+kill you."
+
+"But I would be a fool to trust you. Isn't that so?"
+
+"Not if I gave you my word. That is something we do not break up here as
+you do down among the Wekusko people, and farther south."
+
+"But you murder people for pastime--eh, my dear Jean?"
+
+Croisset shrugged his shoulders without speaking.
+
+"See here, Croisset," said Howland with sudden earnestness, "I'm almost
+tempted to take a chance with you. Will you go down to the post
+to-night, in some way gain access to Meleese, and give her a
+message from me?"
+
+"And the message--what would it be?"
+
+"It would bring Meleese up to this cabin--to-night."
+
+"Are you sure, M'seur?"
+
+"I am certain that it would. Will you go?"
+
+"_Non_, M'seur."
+
+"The devil take you!" cried Howland angrily. "If I was not certain that
+I would need you later I'd garrote you where you sit."
+
+He rose and went to the old stove. It was still capable of holding fire,
+and as it had grown too dark outside for the smoke to be observed from
+the post, he proceeded to prepare a supper of hot coffee and meat. Jean
+watched him in silence, and not until food and drink were on the table
+did the engineer himself break silence.
+
+"Of course, I'm not going to feed you," he said curtly, "so I'll have to
+free your hands. But be careful."
+
+He placed his revolver on the table beside him after he had freed
+Croisset.
+
+"I might assassinate you with a fork!" chuckled the Frenchman softly,
+his black eyes laughing over his coffee cup. "I drink your health,
+M'seur, and wish you happiness!"
+
+"You lie!" snapped Howland.
+
+Jean lowered the cup without drinking.
+
+"It's the truth, M'seur," he insisted. "Since that _bee_-utiful fight
+back there I can not help but wish you happiness. I drink also to the
+happiness of Meleese, also to the happiness of those who tried to kill
+you on the trail and at the coyote. But, _Mon Dieu_, how is it all to
+come? Those at the post are happy because they believe that you are
+dead. You will not be happy until they are dead. And Meleese--how will
+all this bring happiness to her? I tell you that I am as deep in trouble
+as you, M'seur Howland. May the Virgin strike me dead if I'm not!"
+
+He drank, his eyes darkening gloomily. In that moment there flashed into
+Howland's mind a memory of the battle that Jean had fought for him on
+the Great North Trail.
+
+"You nearly killed one of them--that night--at Prince Albert," he said
+slowly. "I can't understand why you fought for me then and won't help me
+now. But you did. And you're afraid to go down there--"
+
+"Until I have regrown a beard," interrupted Jean with a low chuckling
+laugh. "You would not be the only one to die if they saw me again like
+this. But that is enough, M'seur. I will say no more."
+
+"I really don't want to make you uncomfortable, Jean," Howland
+apologized, as he secured the Frenchman's hands again after they had
+satisfied their hearty appetites, "but unless you swear by your Virgin
+or something else that you will make no attempt to call assistance I
+shall have to gag you. What do you say?"
+
+"I will make no outcry, M'seur. I give you my word for that."
+
+With another length of babeesh Howland tied his companion's legs.
+
+"I'm going to investigate a little," he explained. "I am not afraid of
+your voice, for if you begin to shout I will hear you first. But with
+your legs free you might take it into your head to run away."
+
+"Would you mind spreading a blanket on the floor, M'seur? If you are
+gone long this box will grow hard and sharp."
+
+A few minutes later, after he had made his prisoner as comfortable as
+possible in the cabin, Howland went again through the fringe of scrub
+bush to the edge of the ridge. Below him the plain was lost in the gloom
+of night. He could see nothing of the buildings at the post but two or
+three lights gleaming faintly through the darkness. Overhead there were
+no stars; thickening snow shut out what illumination there might have
+been in the north, and even as he stood looking into the desolation to
+the west the snow fell faster and the lights grew fainter and fainter
+until all was a chaos of blackness.
+
+In these moments a desire that was almost madness swept over him. Since
+his fight with Jean the swift passing of events had confined his
+thoughts to their one objective--the finding of Meleese and her people.
+He had assured himself that his every move was to be a cool and
+calculating one, that nothing--not even his great love--should urge him
+beyond that reason which had made him a master-builder among men. As he
+stood with the snow falling heavily on him he knew that his trail would
+be covered before another day--that for an indefinite period he might
+safely wait and watch for Meleese on the mountain top. And yet, slowly,
+he made his way down the side of the ridge. A little way out there in
+the gloom, barely beyond the call of his voice, was the girl for whom he
+was willing to sacrifice all that he had ever achieved in life. With
+each step the desire in him grew--the impulse to bring himself nearer to
+her, to steal across the plain, to approach in the silent smother of the
+storm until he could look on the light which Jean Croisset had told him
+would gleam from her window.
+
+He descended to the foot of the ridge and headed into the plain, taking
+the caution to bury his feet deep in the snow that he might have a trail
+to guide him back to the cabin. At first he found himself impeded by low
+bush. Then the plain became more open, and he knew that there was
+nothing but the night and the snow to shut out his vision ahead. Still
+he had no motive, no reason for what he did. The snow would cover his
+tracks before morning. There would be no harm done, and he might get a
+glimpse of the light, of _her_ light.
+
+It came on his vision with a suddenness that set his heart leaping. A
+dog barked ahead of him, so near that he stopped in his tracks, and then
+suddenly there shot through the snow-gloom the bright gleam of a lamp.
+Before he had taken another breath he was aware of what had happened. A
+curtain had been drawn aside in the chaos ahead. He was almost on the
+walls of the post--and the light gleamed from high, up, from the head of
+the stair!
+
+For a space he stood still, listening and watching. There was no other
+light, no other sound after the barking of the dog. About him the snow
+fell with fluttering noiselessness and it filled him with a sensation of
+safety. The sharpest eyes could not see him, the keenest ears could not
+hear him--and he advanced again until before him there rose out of the
+gloom a huge shadowy mass that was blacker than the night itself. The
+one lighted window was plainly visible now, its curtain two-thirds
+drawn, and as he looked a shadow passed over it. Was it a woman's
+shadow? The window darkened as the figure within came nearer to it, and
+Howland stood with clenched hands and wildly beating heart, almost ready
+to call out softly a name. A little nearer--one more step--and he would
+know. He might throw a chunk of snow-crust, a cartridge from his
+belt--and then--
+
+The shadow disappeared. Dimly Howland made out the snow-covered stair,
+and he went to it and looked up. Ten feet above him the light shone out.
+
+He looked into the gloom behind him, into the gloom out of which he had
+come. Nothing--nothing but the storm. Swiftly he mounted the stair.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+IN THE BEDROOM CHAMBER
+
+Flattening himself closely against the black logs of the wall Howland
+paused on the platform at the top of the stair. His groping hand touched
+the jam of a door and he held his breath when his fingers incautiously
+rattled the steel of a latch. In another moment he passed on, three
+paces---four--along the platform, at last sinking on his knees in the
+snow, close under the window, his eyes searched the lighted room an inch
+at a time. He saw a section of wall at first, dimly illuminated; then a
+small table near the window covered with books and magazines, and beside
+it a reclining chair buried thick under a great white bear robe. On the
+table, but beyond his vision, was the lamp. He drew himself a few inches
+more through the snow, leaning still farther ahead, until he saw the
+foot of a white bed. A little more and he stopped, his white face close
+to the window-pane.
+
+On the bed, facing him, sat Meleese. Her chin was buried in the cup of
+her hands, and he noticed that she was in a dressing-gown and that her
+beautiful hair was loosed and flowing in glistening waves about her, as
+though she had just brushed it for the night. A movement, a slight
+shifting of her eyes, and she would have seen him.
+
+He was filled with an almost mastering impulse to press his face closer,
+to tap on the window, to draw her eyes to him, but even as his hand rose
+to do the bidding of that impulse something restrained him. Slowly the
+girl lifted her head, and he was thrilled to find that another impulse
+drew him back until his ghostly face was a part of the elusive
+snow-gloom. He watched her as she turned from him and threw back the
+glory of her hair until it half hid her in a mass of copper and gold;
+from his distance he still gazed at her, choking and undecided, while
+she gathered it in three heavy strands and plaited it into a
+shining braid.
+
+For an instant his eyes wandered. Beyond her presence the room was
+empty. He saw a door, and observed that it opened into another room,
+which in turn could be entered through the platform door behind him.
+With his old exactness for detail he leaped to definite conclusion.
+These were Meleese's apartments at the post, separated from all
+others--and Meleese was preparing to retire for the night. If the outer
+door was not locked, and he entered, what danger could there be of
+interruption? It was late. The post was asleep. He had seen no light but
+that in the window through which he was staring.
+
+The thought was scarcely born before he was at the platform door. The
+latch clicked gently under his fingers; cautiously he pushed the door
+inward and thrust in his head and shoulders. The air inside was cold and
+frosty. He reached out an arm to the right and his hand encountered the
+rough-hewn surface of a wall; he advanced a step and reached out to the
+left. There, too, his hand touched a wall. He was in a narrow: corridor.
+Ahead of him there shone a thin ray of light from under the door that
+opened into Meleese's room. Nerving himself for the last move, he went
+boldly to the door, knocked lightly to give some warning of his
+presence, and entered. Meleese was gone. He closed the door behind him,
+scarce believing his eyes. Then at the far end of the room he saw a
+curtain, undulating slightly as if from the movement of a person on the
+other side of it.
+
+"Meleese!" he called softly.
+
+White and dripping with snow, his face bloodless in the tense excitement
+of the moment, he stood with his arms half reaching out when the curtain
+was thrust aside and the girl stood before him. At first she did not
+recognize him in his ghostly storm-covered disguise. But before the
+startled cry that was on her lips found utterance the fear that had
+blanched her face gave place to a swift sweeping flood of color. For a
+space there was no word between them as they stood separated by the
+breadth of the room, Howland with his arms held out to her in pleading
+silence, Meleese with her hands clutched to her bosom, her throat
+atremble with strange sobbing notes that made no more sound than the
+fluttering of a bird's wing.
+
+And Howland, as he came across the room to her, found no words to
+say--none of the things that he had meant to whisper to her, but drew
+her to him and crushed her close to his breast, knowing that in this
+moment nothing could tell her more eloquently than the throbbing of his
+own heart, the passionate pressure of his face to her face, of his great
+love which seemed to stir into life the very silence that
+encompassed them.
+
+It was a silence broken after a moment by a short choking cry, the
+quick-breathing terror of a face turned suddenly up to him robbed of its
+flush and quivering with a fear that still found no voice in words. He
+felt the girl's arms straining against him for freedom; her eyes were
+filled with a staring, questioning horror, as though his presence had
+grown into a thing of which she was afraid. The change was tonic to him.
+This was what he had expected---the first terror at his presence, the
+struggle against his will, and there surged back over him the forces he
+had reserved for this moment. He opened his arms and Meleese slipped
+from them, her hands clutched again in the clinging drapery of
+her bosom.
+
+"I have come for you, Meleese," he said as calmly as though his arrival
+had been expected. "Jean is my prisoner. I forced him to drive me to the
+old cabin up on the mountain, and he is waiting there with the dogs. We
+will start back to-night--_now_." Suddenly he sprang to her again, his
+voice breaking in a low pleading cry. "My God, don't you see now how I
+love you?" he went on, taking her white face between his two hands.
+"Don't you understand, Meleese? Jean and I have fought--he is bound hand
+and foot up there in the cabin--and I am waiting for you--for you--" He
+pressed her face against him, her lips so close that he could feel
+their quavering breath. "I have come to fight for you--if you won't go,"
+he whispered tensely. "I don't know why your people have tried to kill
+me, I don't know why they want to kill me, and it makes no difference to
+me now. I want you. I've wanted you since that first glimpse of your
+face through the window, since the fight on the trail--every minute,
+every hour, and I won't give you up as long as I'm alive. If you won't
+go with me--if you won't go now--to-night--" He held her closer, his
+voice trembling in her hair. "If you won't go--I'm going to stay
+with you!"
+
+There was a thrillingly decisive note in his last words, a note that
+carried with it more than all he had said before, and as Meleese partly
+drew away from him again she gave a sharp cry of protest.
+
+"No--no--no--" she panted, her hands clutching at his arm. "You must go
+back now--now--" She pushed him toward the door, and as he backed a
+step, looking down into her face, he saw the choking tremble of her
+white throat, heard again the fluttering terror in her breath. "They
+will kill you if they find you here," she urged. "They think you are
+dead--that you fell through the ice and were drowned. If you don't
+believe me, if you don't believe that I can never go with you,
+tell Jean--"
+
+Her words seemed to choke her as she struggled to finish.
+
+"Tell Jean what?" he questioned softly.
+
+"Will you go--then?" she cried with sobbing eagerness, as if
+he already understood her. "Will you go back if Jean tells you
+everything--everything about me--about--"
+
+"No," he interrupted.
+
+"If you only knew--then you would go back, and never see me again. You
+would understand--"
+
+"I will never understand," He interrupted again. "I say that it is you
+who do not understand, Meleese! I don't care what Jean would tell me.
+Nothing that has ever happened can make me not want you. Don't you
+understand? Nothing, I say--nothing that has happened--that can ever
+happen--unless--"
+
+For a moment he stopped, looking straight into her eyes.
+
+"Nothing--nothing in the world, Meleese," he repeated almost in a
+whisper, "unless you did not tell me the truth back on the trail at
+Wekusko when you said that it was not a sin to love you."
+
+"And if I tell you--if I confess that it is a sin, that I lied back
+there--then will you go?" she demanded quickly.
+
+Her eyes flamed on him with a strange light.
+
+"No," he said calmly. "I would not believe you."
+
+"But it is the truth. I lied--lied terribly to you. I have sinned even
+more terribly, and--and you must go. Don't you understand me now? If
+some one should come--and find you here--"
+
+"There would be a fight," he said grimly. "I have come prepared to
+fight." He waited a moment, and in the silence the brown head in front
+of him dropped slowly and he saw a tremor pass through the slender form,
+as if it had been torn by an instant's pain. The pallor had gone from
+Howland's face. The mute surrender in the bowed head, the soft sobbing
+notes that he heard now in the girl's breath, the confession that he
+read in her voiceless grief set his heart leaping, and again he drew her
+close into his arms and turned her face up to his own. There was no
+resistance now, no words, no pleading for him to go; but in her eyes he
+saw the prayerful entreaty with which she had come to him on the Wekusko
+trail, and in the quivering red mouth the same torture and love and
+half-surrender that had burned themselves into his soul there. Love,
+triumph, undying faith shone in his eyes, and he crushed her face closer
+until the lovely mouth lay pouted like a crimson rose for him to kiss.
+
+"You--you told me something that wasn't true--once--back there," he
+whispered, "and you promised that you wouldn't do it again. You haven't
+sinned--in the way that I mean, and in the way that you want me to
+believe." His arms tightened still more about her, and his voice was
+suddenly filled with a tense quick eagerness. "Why don't you tell me
+everything?" he asked. "You believe that if I knew certain things I
+would never want to see you again, that I would go back into the South.
+You have told me that. Then--if you want me to go--why don't you reveal
+these things to me? If you can't do that, go with me to-night. We will
+go anywhere--to the ends of the earth--"
+
+He stopped at the look that had come into her face. Her eyes were turned
+to the window. He saw them filled with a strange terror, and
+involuntarily his own followed them to where the storm was beating
+softly against the window-pane. Close to the lighted glass was pressed a
+man's face. He caught a flashing glimpse of a pair of eyes staring in
+at them, of a thick, wild beard whitened by the snow. He knew the face.
+When life seemed slipping out of his throat he had looked up into it
+that night of the ambush on the Great North Trail. There was the same
+hatred, the same demoniac fierceness in it now.
+
+With a quick movement Howland sprang away from the girl and leveled his
+revolver to where the face had been. Over the shining barrel he saw only
+the taunting emptiness of the storm. Scarcely had the face disappeared
+when there came the loud shout of a man, the hoarse calling of a name,
+and then of another, and after that the quick, furious opening of the
+outer door.
+
+Howland whirled, his weapon pointing to the only entrance. The girl was
+ahead of him and with a warning cry he swung the muzzle of his gun
+upward. In a moment she had pushed the bolt that locked the room from
+the inside, and had leaped back to him, her face white, her breath
+breaking in fear. She spoke no word, but with a moan of terror caught
+him by the arm and pulled him past the light and beyond the thick
+curtain that had hidden her when he had entered the room a few minutes
+before. They were in a second room, palely lighted by a mass of coals
+gleaming through the open door of a box stove, and with a second window
+looking out into the thick night. Fiercely she dragged him to this
+window, her fingers biting deep into the flesh of his arm.
+
+"You must go--through this!" she cried chokingly. "Quick! O, my God,
+won't you hurry? Won't you go?"
+
+Howland had stopped. From the blackness of the corridor there came the
+beat of heavy fists on the door and the rage of a thundering voice
+demanding admittance. From out in the night it was answered by the sharp
+barking of a dog and the shout of a second voice.
+
+"Why should I go?" he asked. "I told you a few moments ago that I had
+come prepared to fight, Meleese. I shall stay--and fight!"
+
+"Please--please go!" she sobbed, striving to pull him nearer to the
+window. "You can get away in the storm. The snow will cover your trail.
+If you stay they will kill you--kill you--"
+
+"I prefer to fight and be killed rather than to run away without you,"
+he interrupted. "If you will go--"
+
+She crushed herself against his breast.
+
+"I can't go--now--this way--" she urged. "But I will come to you. I
+promise that--I will come to you." For an instant her hands clasped his
+face. "Will you go--if I promise you that?"
+
+"You swear that you will follow me--that you will come down to the
+Wekusko? My God, are you telling me the truth, Meleese?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I will come to you--if you go now." She broke from him and he
+heard her fumbling at the window. "I will come--I will come--but not to
+Wekusko. They will follow you there. Go back to Prince Albert--to the
+hotel where I looked at you through the window. I will come
+there--sometime--as soon as I can--"
+
+A blast of cold air swept into his face. He had thrust his revolver
+into its holster and now again for an instant he held Meleese close
+in his arms.
+
+"You will be my wife?" he whispered.
+
+He felt her throbbing against him. Suddenly her arms tightened around
+his neck.
+
+"Yes, if you want me then--if you want me after you know what I am. Now,
+go--please, please go!"
+
+He pulled himself through the window, hanging for a last moment to the
+ledge.
+
+"If you fail to come--within a month--I shall return," he said.
+
+Her hands were at his face again. Once more, as on the trail at Le Pas,
+he felt the sweet pressure of her lips.
+
+"I will come," she whispered.
+
+Her hands thrust him back and he was forced to drop to the snow below.
+Scarcely had his feet touched when there sounded the fierce yelp of a
+dog close to him, and as he darted away into the smother of the storm
+the brute followed at his heels, barking excitedly in the manner of the
+mongrel curs that had found their way up from the South. Between the
+dog's alarm and the loud outcry of men there was barely time in which to
+draw a breath. From the stair platform came a rapid fusillade of rifle
+shots that sang through the air above Howland's head, and mingled with
+the fire was a hoarse voice urging on the cur that followed within a
+leap of his heels.
+
+The presence of the dog filled the engineer with a fear that he had not
+anticipated. Not for an instant did the brute give slack to his tongue
+as they raced through the night, and Howland knew now that the storm and
+the darkness were of little avail in his race for life. There was but
+one chance, and he determined to take it. Gradually he slackened his
+pace, drawing and cocking his revolver; then he turned suddenly to
+confront the yelping Nemesis behind him. Three times he fired in quick
+succession at a moving blot in the snow-gloom, and there went up from
+that blot a wailing cry that he knew was caused by the deep bite
+of lead.
+
+Again he plunged on, a muffled shout of defiance on his lips. Never had
+the fire of battle raged in his veins as now. Back in the window,
+listening in terror, praying for him, was Meleese. The knowledge that
+she was there, that at last he had won her and was fighting for her,
+stirred him with a joy that was next to madness. Nothing could stop him
+now. He loaded his revolver as he ran, slackening his pace as he covered
+greater distance, for he knew that in the storm his trail could be
+followed scarcely faster than a walk.
+
+He gave no thought to Jean Croisset, bound hand and foot in the little
+cabin on the mountain. Even as he had clung to the window for that last
+moment it had occurred to him that it would be folly to return to the
+Frenchman. Meleese had promised to come to him, and he believed her, and
+for that reason Jean was no longer of use to him. Alone he would lose
+himself in that wilderness, alone work his way into the South, trusting
+to his revolver for food, and to his compass and the matches in his
+pocket for life. There would be no sledge-trail for his enemies to
+follow, no treachery to fear. It would take a thousand men to find him
+after the night's storm had covered up his retreat, and if one should
+find him they two would be alone to fight it out.
+
+For a moment he stopped to listen and stare futilely into the blackness
+behind him. When he turned to go on his heart stood still. A shadow had
+loomed out of the night half a dozen paces ahead of him, and before he
+could raise his revolver the shadow was lightened by a sharp flash of
+fire. Howland staggered back, his fingers loosening their grip on his
+pistol, and as he crumpled down into the snow he heard over him the
+hoarse voice that had urged on the dog. After that there was a space of
+silence, of black chaos in which he neither reasoned nor lived, and when
+there came to him faintly the sound of other voices. Finally all of
+them were lost in one--a moaning, sobbing voice that was calling his
+name again and again, a voice that seemed to reach to him from out of an
+infinity of distance, and that he knew was the voice of Meleese. He
+strove to speak, to lift his arms, but his tongue was as lead, his arms
+as though fettered with steel bands.
+
+The voice died away. He lived through a cycle of speechless, painless
+night into which finally a gleam of dawn returned. He felt as if years
+were passing in his efforts to move, to lift himself out of chaos. But
+at last he won. His eyes opened, he raised himself. His first sensation
+was that he was no longer in the snow and that the storm was not beating
+into his face. Instead there encompassed him a damp dungeon-like chill.
+Everywhere there was blackness--everywhere except in one spot, where a
+little yellow eye of fire watched him and blinked at him. At first he
+thought that the eye must be miles and miles away. But it came quickly
+nearer--and still nearer--until at last he knew that it was a candle
+burning with the silence of a death taper a yard or two beyond his feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+JEAN'S STORY
+
+It was the candle-light that dragged Howland quickly back into
+consciousness and pain. He knew that he was no longer in the snow. His
+fingers dug into damp earth as he made an effort to raise himself, and
+with that effort it seemed as though a red-hot knife had cleft him from
+the top of his skull to his chest. The agony of that instant's pain drew
+a sharp cry from him and he clutched both hands to his head, waiting and
+fearing. It did not come again and he sat up. A hundred candles danced
+and blinked before him like so many taunting eyes and turned him dizzy
+with a sickening nausea. One by one the lights faded away after that
+until there was left only the steady glow of the real candle.
+
+The fingers of Howland's right hand were sticky when he drew them away
+from his head, and he shivered. The tongue of flame leaping out of the
+night, the thunderous report, the deluge of fire that had filled his
+brain, all bore their meaning for him now. It had been a close call, so
+close that shivering chills ran up and down his spine as he struggled
+little by little to lift himself to his knees. His enemy's shot had
+grazed his head. A quarter of an inch more, an eighth of an inch even,
+and there would have been no awakening. He closed his eyes for a few
+moments, and when he opened them his vision had gained distance. About
+him he made out indistinctly the black encompassing walls of his prison.
+
+It seemed an interminable time before he could rise and stand on his
+feet and reach the candle. Slowly he felt his way along the wall until
+he came to a low, heavy door, barred from the outside, and just beyond
+this door he found a narrow aperture cut through the decaying logs. It
+was a yard in length and barely wide enough for him to thrust through an
+arm. Three more of these narrow slits in his prison walls he found
+before he came back again to the door. They reminded him of the hole
+through which he had looked out on the plague-stricken cabin at the
+_Maison de Mort Rouge_, and he guessed that through them came what
+little fresh air found its way into the dungeon.
+
+Near the table on which he replaced the candle was a stool, and he sat
+down. Carefully he went through his pockets. His belt and revolver were
+gone. He had been stripped of letters and papers. Not so much as a match
+had been left him by his captors.
+
+He stopped in his search and listened. Faintly there came to him the
+ticking of his watch. He felt in his watch pocket. It was empty. Again
+he listened. This time he was sure that the sound came from his feet and
+he lowered the candle until the light of it glistened on something
+yellow an arm's distance away. It was his watch, and close beside it lay
+his leather wallet. What money he had carried in the pocketbook was
+untouched, but his personal cards and half a dozen papers that it had
+contained were gone.
+
+He looked at the time. The hour hand pointed to four. Was it possible
+that he had been unconscious for more than six hours? He had left Jean
+on the mountain top soon after nightfall--it was not later than nine
+o'clock when he had seen Meleese. Seven hours! Again he lifted his hands
+to his head. His hair was stiff and matted with blood. It had congealed
+thickly on his cheek and neck and had soaked the top of his coat. He had
+bled a great deal, so much that he wondered he was alive, and yet during
+those hours his captors had given him no assistance, had not even bound
+a cloth about his head.
+
+Did they believe that the shot had killed him, that he was already dead
+when they flung him into the dungeon? Or was this only one other
+instance of the barbaric brutishness of those who so insistently sought
+his life? The fighting blood rose in him with returning strength. If
+they had left him a weapon, even the small knife they had taken from
+his pocket, he would still make an effort to settle a last score or two.
+But now he was helpless.
+
+There was, however, a ray of hope in the possibility that they believed
+him dead. If they who had flung him into the dungeon believed this, then
+he was safe for several hours. No one would come for his body until
+broad day, and possibly not until the following night, when a grave
+could be dug and he could be carried out with some secrecy. In that
+time, if he could escape from his prison, he would be well on his way to
+the Wekusko. He had no doubt that Jean was still a prisoner on the
+mountain top. The dogs and sledge were there and both rifles were where
+he had concealed them. It would be a hard race--a running fight
+perhaps--but he would win, and after a time Meleese would come to him,
+away down at the little hotel on the Saskatchewan.
+
+He rose to his feet, his blood growing warm, his eyes shining in the
+candle-light. The thought of the girl as she had come to him out in the
+night put back into him all of his old fighting strength, all of his
+unconquerable hope and confidence. She had followed him when the dog
+yelped at his heels, as the first shots had been fired; she had knelt
+beside him in the snow as he lay bleeding at the feet of his enemies. He
+had heard her voice calling to him, had felt the thrilling touch of her
+arms, the terror and love of her lips as she thought him dying. She had
+given herself to him; and she would come to him--his lady of the
+snows--if he could escape.
+
+He went to the door and shoved against it with his shoulder. It was
+immovable. Again he thrust his hand and arm through the first of the
+narrow ventilating apertures. The wood with which his fingers came in
+contact was rotting from moisture and age and he found that he could
+tear out handfuls of it. He fell to work, digging with the fierce
+eagerness of an animal. At the rate the soft pulpy wood gave way he
+could win his freedom long before the earliest risers at the post
+were awake.
+
+A sound stopped him, a hollow cough from out of the blackness beyond
+the dungeon wall. It was followed an instant later by a gleam of light
+and Howland darted quickly back to the table. He heard the slipping of a
+bolt outside the door and it flashed on him then that he should have
+thrown himself back into his old position on the floor. It was too late
+for this action now. The door swung open and a shaft of light shot into
+the chamber. For a space Howland was blinded by it and it was not until
+the bearer of the lamp had advanced half-way to the table that he
+recognized his visitor as Jean Croisset. The Frenchman's face was wild
+and haggard. His eyes gleamed red and bloodshot as he stared at
+the engineer.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, I had hoped to find you dead," he whispered huskily.
+
+He reached up to hang the big oil lamp he carried to a hook in the log
+ceiling, and Howland sat amazed at the expression on his face. Jean's
+great eyes gleamed like living coals from out of a death-mask. Either
+fear or pain had wrought deep lines in his face. His hands trembled as
+he steadied the lamp. The few hours that had passed since Howland had
+left him a prisoner on the mountain top had transformed him into an old
+man. Even his shoulders were hunched forward with an air of weakness and
+despair as he turned from the lamp to the engineer.
+
+"I had hoped to find you dead, M'seur," he repeated in a voice so low it
+could not have been heard beyond the door. "That is why I did not bind
+your wound and give you water when they turned you over to my care. I
+wanted you to bleed to death. It would have been easier--for both
+of us."
+
+From under the table he drew forth a second stool and sat down opposite
+Howland. The two men stared at each other over the sputtering remnant of
+the candle. Before the engineer had recovered from his astonishment at
+the sudden appearance of the man whom he believed to be safely
+imprisoned in the old cabin, Croisset's shifting eyes fell on the mass
+of torn wood under the aperture.
+
+"Too late, M'seur," he said meaningly. "They are waiting up there now.
+It is impossible for you to escape."
+
+"That is what I thought about you," replied Howland, forcing himself to
+speak coolly. "How did you manage it?"
+
+"They came up to free me soon after they got you, M'seur. I am grateful
+to you for thinking of me, for if you had not told them I might have
+stayed there and starved like a beast in a trap."
+
+"It was Meleese," said Howland. "I told her."
+
+Jean dropped his head in his hands.
+
+"I have just come from Meleese," he whispered softly. "She sends you her
+love, M'seur, and tells you not to give up hope. The great God, if she
+only knew--if she only knew what is about to happen! No one has told
+her. She is a prisoner in her room, and after that--after that out on
+the plain--when she came to you and fought like one gone mad to save
+you--they will not give her freedom until all is over. What time is
+it, M'seur?"
+
+A clammy chill passed over Howland as he read the time.
+
+"Half-past four."
+
+The Frenchman shivered; his fingers clasped and unclasped nervously as
+he leaned nearer his companion.
+
+"The Virgin bear me witness that I wish I might strike ten years off my
+life and give you freedom," he breathed quickly. "I would do it this
+instant, M'seur. I would help you to escape if it were in any way
+possible. But they are in the room at the head of the stair--waiting.
+At six--"
+
+Something seemed to choke him and he stopped.
+
+"At six--what then?" urged Howland. "My God, man, what makes you look
+so? What is to happen at six?"
+
+Jean stiffened. A flash of the old fire gleamed in his eyes, and his
+voice was steady and clear when he spoke again.
+
+"I have no time to lose in further talk like this, M'seur," he said
+almost harshly. "They know now that it was I who fought for you and for
+Meleese on the Great North Trail. They know that it is I who saved you
+at Wekusko. Meleese can no more save me than she can save you, and to
+make my task a little harder they have made me their messenger, and--"
+
+Again he stopped, choking for words.
+
+"What?" insisted Howland, leaning toward him, his face as white as the
+tallow in the little dish on the table.
+
+"Their executioner, M'seur."
+
+With his hands gripped tightly on the table in front of him Jack Howland
+sat as rigid as though an electric shock had passed through him.
+
+"Great God!" he gasped.
+
+"First I am to tell you a story, M'seur," continued Croisset, leveling
+his reddened eyes to the engineer's. "It will not be long, and I pray
+the Virgin to make you understand it as we people of the North
+understand it. It begins sixteen years ago."
+
+"I shall understand, Jean," whispered Howland. "Go on."
+
+"It was at one of the company's posts that it happened," Jean began,
+"and the story has to do with Le M'seur, the Factor, and his wife,
+_L'Ange Blanc_--that is what she was called, M'seur--the White Angel.
+_Mon Dieu_, how we loved her! Not with a wicked love, M'seur, but with
+something very near to that which we give our Blessed Virgin. And our
+love was but a pitiful thing when compared with the love of these two,
+each for the other. She was beautiful, gloriously beautiful as we know
+women up in the big snows; like Meleese, who was the youngest of
+their children.
+
+"Ours was the happiest post in all this great northland, M'seur,"
+continued Croisset after a moment's pause; "and it was all because of
+this woman and the man, but mostly because of the woman. And when the
+little Meleese came--she was the first white girl baby that any of us
+had ever seen--our love for these two became something that I fear was
+almost a sacrilege to our dear Lady of God. Perhaps you can not
+understand such a love, M'seur; I know that it can not be understood
+down in that world which you call civilization, for I have been there
+and have seen. We would have died for the little Meleese, and the other
+Meleese, her mother. And also, M'seur, we would have killed our own
+brothers had they as much as spoken a word against them or cast at the
+mother even as much as a look which was not the purest. That is how we
+loved her sixteen years ago this winter, M'seur, and that is how we love
+her memory still."
+
+"She is dead," uttered Howland, forgetting in these tense moments the
+significance Jean's story might hold for him.
+
+"Yes; she is dead. M'seur, shall I tell you how she died?"
+
+Croisset sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, his lithe body
+twitching like a wolf's as he stood for an instant half leaning over
+the engineer.
+
+"Shall I tell you how she died, M'seur?" he repeated, falling back on
+his stool, his long arms stretched over the table. "It happened like
+this, sixteen years ago, when the little Meleese was four years old and
+the oldest of the three sons was fourteen. That winter a man and his boy
+came up from Churchill. He had letters from the Factor at the Bay, and
+our Factor and his wife opened their doors to him and to his son, and
+gave them all that it was in their power to give.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, this man was from that glorious civilization of yours,
+M'seur--from that land to the south where they say that Christ's temples
+stand on every four corners, but he could not understand the strange God
+and the strange laws of our people! For months he had been away from the
+companionship of women, and in this great wilderness the Factor's wife
+came into his life as the flower blossoms in the desert. Ah, M'seur, I
+can see now how his wicked heart strove to accomplish the things, and
+how he failed because the glory of our womanhood up here has come
+straight down from Heaven. And in failing he went mad--mad with that
+passion of the race I have seen in Montreal, and then--ah, the Great
+God, M'seur, do you not understand what happened next?"
+
+Croisset lifted his head, his face twisted in a torture that was half
+grief, half madness, and stared at Howland, with quivering nostrils and
+heaving chest. In his companion's face he saw only a dead white pallor
+of waiting, of half comprehension. He leaned over the table again,
+controlling himself by a mighty effort.
+
+"It was at that time when most of us were out among the trappers, just
+before our big spring caribou roast, when the forest people came in with
+their furs, M'seur. The post was almost deserted. Do you understand? The
+woman was alone in her cabin with the little Meleese--and when we came
+back at night she was dead. Yes, M'seur, she killed herself, leaving a
+few written words to the Factor telling him what had happened.
+
+"The man and the boy escaped on a sledge after the crime. _Mon Dieu_, how
+the forest people leaped in pursuit! Runners carried the word over the
+mountains and through the swamps, and a hundred sledge parties searched
+the forest trails for the man-fiend and his son. It was the Factor
+himself and his youngest boy who found them, far out on the Churchill
+trail. And what happened then, M'seur? Just this: While the man-fiend
+urged on his dogs the son fired back with a rifle, and one of his
+bullets went straight through the heart of the pursuing Factor, so that
+in the space of one day and one night the little Meleese was made both
+motherless and fatherless by these two whom the devil had sent to
+destroy the most beautiful thing we have ever known in this North. Ah,
+M'seur, you turn white! Does it bring a vision to you now? Do you hear
+the crack of that rifle? Can you see--"
+
+"My God!" gasped Howland. Even now he understood nothing of what this
+tragedy might mean to him--forgot everything but that he was listening
+to the terrible tragedy that had come to the woman who was the mother of
+the girl he loved. He half rose from his seat as Croisset paused; his
+eyes glittered, his death-white face was set in tense fierce lines, his
+finger-nails dug into the board table, as he demanded, "What happened
+then, Croisset?"
+
+Jean was eying him like an animal. His voice was low.
+
+"They escaped, M'seur."
+
+With a deep breath Howland sank back. In a moment he leaned again toward
+Jean as he saw come into the Frenchman's eyes a slumbering fire that a
+few seconds later blazed into vengeful malignity when he drew slowly
+from an inside pocket of his coat a small parcel wrapped and tied in
+soft buckskin.
+
+"They have sent you this, M'seur," he said. "'At the very last,' they
+told me, 'let him read this.'"
+
+With his eyes on the parcel, scarcely breathing, Howland waited while
+with exasperating slowness Croisset's brown fingers untied the cord that
+secured it.
+
+"First you must understand what this meant to us in the North, M'seur,"
+said Jean, his hands covering the parcel after he had finished with the
+cord. "We are different who live up here--different from those who live
+in Montreal, and beyond. With us a lifetime is not too long to spend in
+avenging a cruel wrong. It is our honor of the North. I was fifteen
+then, and had been fostered by the Factor and his wife since the day my
+mother died of the smallpox and I dragged myself into the post, almost
+dead of starvation. So it happened that I was like a brother to Meleese
+and the other three. The years passed, and the desire for vengeance grew
+in us as we became older, until it was the one thing that we most
+desired in life, even filling the gentle heart of Meleese, whom we sent
+to school in Montreal when she was eleven, M'seur. It was three years
+later--while she was still in Montreal--that I went on one of my
+wandering searches to a post at the head of the Great Slave, and there,
+M'seur--there--"
+
+Croisset had risen. His long arms were stretched high, his head thrown
+back, his upturned face aflame with a passion that was almost that
+of prayer.
+
+"M'seur, I thank the great God in Heaven that it was given to Jean
+Croisset to meet one of those whom we had pledged our lives to find--and
+I slew him!"
+
+He stood silent, eyes partly closed, still as if in prayer. When he sank
+into his chair again the look of hatred had gone from his face.
+
+"It was the father, and I killed him, M'seur--killed him slowly, telling
+him of what he had done as I choked the life from him; and then, a
+little at a time, I let the life back into him, forcing him to tell me
+where I would find his son, the slayer of Meleese's father. And after
+that I closed on his throat until he was dead, and my dogs dragged his
+body through three hundred miles of snow that the others might look on
+him and know that he was dead. That was six years ago, M'seur."
+
+Howland was scarcely breathing.
+
+"And the other--the son--" he whispered densely. "You found him,
+Croisset? You killed him?"
+
+"What would you have done, M'seur?"
+
+Howland's hands gripped those that guarded the little parcel.
+
+"I would have killed him, Jean."
+
+He spoke slowly, deliberately.
+
+"I would have killed him," he repeated.
+
+"I am glad of that, M'seur."
+
+Jean was unwrapping the buckskin, fold after fold of it, until at last
+there was revealed a roll of paper, soiled and yellow along the edges.
+
+"These pages are taken from the day-book at the post where the woman
+lived," he explained softly, smoothing them under his hands. "Each day
+the Factor of a post keeps a reckoning of incidents as they pass, as I
+have heard that sea captains do on shipboard. It has been a company law
+for hundreds of years. We have kept these pages to ourselves, M'seur.
+They tell of what happened at our post sixteen years ago this winter."
+
+As he spoke the half-breed came to Howland's side, smoothing the first
+page on the table in front of him, his slim forefinger pointing to the
+first few lines.
+
+"They came on this day," he said, his breath close to the engineer's
+ear. "These are their names, M'seur--the names of the two who destroyed
+the paradise that our Blessed Lady gave to us many years ago."
+
+In an instant Howland had read the lines. His blood seemed to dry in his
+veins and his heart to stand still. For these were the words he read:
+"On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John
+Howland and his son."
+
+With a sharp cry he sprang to his feet, overturning the stool, facing
+Croisset, his hands clenched, his body bent as if about to spring. Jean
+stood calmly, his white teeth agleam. Then, slowly, he stretched out
+a hand.
+
+"M'seur John Howland, will you read what happened to the father and
+mother of the little Meleese sixteen years ago? Will you read, and
+understand why your life was sought on the Great North Trail, why you
+were placed on a case of dynamite in the Wekusko coyote, and why, with
+the coming of this morning's dawn--at six--"
+
+He paused, shivering. Howland seemed not to notice the tremendous effort
+Croisset was making to control himself. With the dazed speechlessness of
+one recovering from a sudden blow he turned to the table and bent over
+the papers that the Frenchman had laid out before him. Five minutes
+later he raised his head. His face was as white as chalk. Deep lines had
+settled about his mouth. As a sick man might, he lifted his hand and
+passed it over his face and through his hair. But his eyes were afire.
+Involuntarily Jean's body gathered itself as if to meet attack.
+
+"I have read it," he said huskily, as though the speaking of the words
+caused him a great effort. "I understand now. My name is John Howland.
+And my father's name was John Howland. I understand."
+
+There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.
+
+"I understand," repeated the engineer, advancing a step. "And you, Jean
+Croisset--do you believe that I am _that_ John Howland--the John
+Howland--the son who--"
+
+He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.
+
+"M'seur, it makes no difference what I believe now. I have but one other
+thing to tell you here--and one thing to give to you," replied Jean.
+"Those who have tried to kill you are the three brothers. Meleese is
+their sister. Ours is a strange country, M'seur, governed since the
+beginning of our time by laws which we have made ourselves. To those who
+are waiting above no torture is too great for you. They have condemned
+you to death. This morning, exactly as the minute hand of your watch
+counts off the hour of six, you will be shot to death through one of
+these holes in the dungeon walls. And this--this note from Meleese--is
+the last thing I have to give you."
+
+He dropped a folded bit of paper on the table. Mechanically Howland
+reached for it. Stunned and speechless, cold with the horror of his
+death sentence, he smoothed out the note. There were only a few words,
+apparently written in great haste.
+
+"I have been praying for you all night. If God fails to answer my
+prayers I will still do as I have promised--and follow you."
+     "Meleese."
+
+He heard a movement and lifted his eyes. Jean was gone. The door was
+swinging slowly inward. He heard the wooden bolt slip into place, and
+after that there was not even the sound of a moccasined foot stealing
+through the outer darkness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+MELEESE
+
+For many minutes Howland stood waiting as if life had left him. His eyes
+were on the door, but unseeing. He made no sound, no movement again
+toward the aperture in the wall. Fate had dealt him the final blow, and
+when at last he roused himself from its first terrible effect there
+remained no glimmering of hope in his breast, no thought of the battle
+he had been making for freedom a short time before. The note fluttered
+from his fingers and he drew his watch from his pocket and placed it on
+the table. It was a quarter after five. There still remained
+forty-five minutes.
+
+Three-quarters of an hour and then--death. There was no doubt in his
+mind this time. Ever in the coyote, with eternity staring him in the
+face, he had hoped and fought for life. But here there was no hope,
+there was to be no fighting. Through one of the black holes in the wall
+he was to be shot down, with no chance to defend himself, to prove
+himself innocent. And Meleese--did she, too, believe him guilty of
+that crime?
+
+He groaned aloud, and picked up the note again. Softly he repeated her
+last words to him: "If God fails to answer my prayers I will still do as
+I have promised, and follow you." Those words seemed to cry aloud his
+doom. Even Meleese had given up hope. And yet, was there not a deeper
+significance in her words? He started as if some one had struck him, his
+eyes agleam.
+
+"_'I will follow you._'"
+
+He almost sobbed the words this time. His hands trembled and he dropped
+the paper again on the table and turned his eyes in staring horror
+toward the door. What did she mean? Would Meleese kill herself if he was
+murdered by her brothers? He could see no other meaning in her last
+message to him, and for a time after the chilling significance of her
+words struck his heart he scarce restrained himself from calling aloud
+for Jean. If he could but send a word back to her, tell her once more of
+his great love--that the winning of that love was ample reward for all
+that he had lost and was about to lose, and that it gave him such
+happiness as he had never known even in this last hour of his torture!
+
+Twice he shouted for Croisset, but there came no response save the
+hollow echoings of his own voice in the subterranean chambers. After
+that he began to think more sanely. If Meleese was a prisoner in her
+room it was probable that Croisset, who was now fully recognized as a
+traitor at the post, could no longer gain access to her. In some secret
+way Meleese had contrived to give him the note, and he had performed his
+last mission for her.
+
+In Howland's breast there grew slowly a feeling of sympathy for the
+Frenchman. Much that he had not understood was clear to him now. He
+understood why Meleese had not revealed the names of his assailants at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, he understood why she had fled from him
+after his abduction, and why Jean had so faithfully kept secrecy for her
+sake. She had fought to save him from her own flesh and blood, and Jean
+had fought to save him, and in these last minutes of his life he would
+liked to have had Croisset with him that he might have taken has hand
+and thanked him for what he had done. And because he had fought for him
+and Meleese the Frenchman's fate was to be almost as terrible as his
+own. It was he who would fire the fatal shot at six o'clock. Not the
+brothers, but Jean Croisset, would be his executioner and murderer.
+
+The minutes passed swiftly, and as they went Howland was astonished to
+find how coolly he awaited the end. He even began to debate with himself
+as to through which hole the fatal shot would be fired. No matter where
+he stood he was in the light of the big hanging lamp. There was no
+obscure or shadowy corner in which for a few moments he might elude his
+executioner. He even smiled when the thought occurred to him that it
+was possible to extinguish the light and crawl under the table, thus
+gaining a momentary delay. But what would that delay avail him? He was
+anxious for the fatal minute to arrive, and be over.
+
+There were moments of happiness when in the damp horror of his
+death-chamber there came before him visions of Meleese, grown even
+sweeter and more lovable, now that he knew how she had sacrificed
+herself between two great loves--the love of her own people and the love
+of himself. And at last she had surrendered to him. Was it possible that
+she could have made that surrender if she, like her brothers, believed
+him to be the murderer of her father--the son of the man-fiend who had
+robbed her of a mother? It was impossible, he told himself. She did not
+believe him guilty. And yet--why had she not given him some such word in
+her last message to him?
+
+His eyes traveled to the note on the table and he began searching in his
+coat pockets. In one of them he found the worn stub of a pencil, and
+for many minutes after that he was oblivious to the passing of time as
+he wrote his last words to Meleese. When he had finished he folded the
+paper and placed it under his watch. At the final moment, before the
+shot was fired, he would ask Jean to take it. His eyes fell on his watch
+dial and a cry burst from his lips.
+
+It lacked but ten minutes of the final hour!
+
+Above him he heard faintly the sharp barking of dogs, the hollow sound
+of men's voices. A moment later there came to him an echo as of swiftly
+tramping feet, and after that silence.
+
+"Jean," he called tensely. "Ho, Jean--Jean Croisset--"
+
+He caught up the paper and ran from one black opening to another,
+calling the Frenchman's name.
+
+"As you love your God, Jean, as you have a hope of Heaven, take this
+note to Meleese!" he pleaded. "Jean--Jean Croisset--"
+
+There came no answer, no movement outside, and Howland stilled the
+beating of his heart to listen. Surely Croisset was there! He looked
+again at the watch he held in his hand. In four minutes the shot would
+be fired. A cold sweat bathed his face. He tried to cry out again, but
+something rose in his throat and choked him until his voice was only a
+gasp. He sprang back to the table and placed the note once more under
+the watch. Two minutes! One and a half! One!
+
+With a sudden fearless cry he sprang into the very center of his prison,
+and flung out his arms with his face to the hole next the door. This
+time his voice was almost a shout.
+
+"Jean Croisset, there is a note under my watch on the table. After you
+have killed me take it to Meleese. If you fail I shall haunt you to
+your grave!"
+
+Still no sound--no gleam of steel pointing at aim through the black
+aperture. Would the shot come from behind?
+
+Tick--tick--tick--tick--
+
+He counted the beating of his watch up to twenty. A sound stopped him
+then, and he closed his eyes, and a great shiver passed through
+his body.
+
+It was the tiny bell of his watch tinkling off the hour of six!
+
+Scarcely had that sound ceased to ring in his brain when from far
+through the darkness beyond the wall of his prison there came a creaking
+noise, as if a heavy door had been swung slowly on its hinges, or a trap
+opened--then voices, low, quick, excited voices, the hurrying tread of
+feet, a flash of light shooting through the gloom. They were coming!
+After all it was not to be a private affair, and Jean was to do his
+killing as the hangman's job is done in civilization--before a crowd.
+Howland's arms dropped to his side. This was more terrible than the
+other--this seeing and hearing of preparation, in which he fancied that
+he heard the click of Croisset's gun as he lifted the hammer.
+
+Instead it was a hand fumbling at the door. There were no voices now,
+only a strange moaning sound that he could not account for. In another
+moment it was made clear to him. The door swung open, and the
+white-robed figure of Meleese sprang toward him with a cry that echoed
+through the dungeon chambers. What happened then--the passing of white
+faces beyond the doorway, the subdued murmur of voices, were all lost to
+Howland in the knowledge that at the last moment they had let her come
+to him, that he held her in his arms, and that she was crushing her face
+to his breast and sobbing things to him which he could not understand.
+Once or twice in his life he had wondered if realities might not be
+dreams, and the thought came to him now when he felt the warmth of her
+hands, her face, her hair, and then the passionate pressure of her lips
+on his own. He lifted his eyes, and in the doorway he saw Jean Croisset,
+and behind him a wild, bearded face--the face that had been over him
+when life was almost choked from him on the Great North Trail. And
+beyond these two he saw still others, shining ghostly and indistinct in
+the deeper gloom of the outer darkness. He strained Meleese to him, and
+when he looked down into her face he saw her beautiful eyes flooded with
+tears, and yet shining with a great joy. Her lips trembled as she
+struggled to speak. Then suddenly she broke from his arms and ran to the
+door, and Jean Croisset came between them, with the wild bearded man
+still staring over his shoulder.
+
+"M'seur, will you come with us?" said Jean.
+
+The bearded man dropped back into the thick gloom, and without speaking
+Howland followed Croisset, his eyes on the shadowy form of Meleese. The
+ghostly faces turned from the light, and the tread of their retreating
+feet marked the passage through the blackness. Jean fell back beside
+Howland, the huge bulk of the bearded man three paces ahead. A dozen
+steps more and they came to a stair down which a light shone. The
+Frenchman's hand fell detainingly on Howland's arm, and when a moment
+later they reached the top of the stairs all had disappeared but Jean
+and the bearded man. Dawn was breaking, and a pale light fell through
+the two windows of the room they had entered. On a table burned a lamp,
+and near the table were several chairs. To one of these Croisset
+motioned the engineer, and as Howland sat down the bearded man turned
+slowly and passed through a door. Jean shrugged his shoulders as the
+other disappeared.
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, that means that he leaves it all to me," he exclaimed. "I
+don't wonder that it is hard for him to talk, M'seur. Perhaps you have
+begun to understand!"
+
+"Yes, a little," replied Howland. His heart was throbbing as if he had
+just finished climbing a long hill. "That was the man who tried to kill
+me. But Meleese--the--" He could go no further. Scarce breathing, he
+waited for Jean to speak.
+
+"It is Pierre Thoreau," he said, "eldest brother to Meleese. It is he
+who should say what I am about to tell you, M'seur. But he is too full
+of grief to speak. You wonder at that? And yet I tell you that a man
+with a better soul than Pierre Thoreau never lived, though three times
+he has tried to kill you. Do you remember what you asked me a short time
+ago, M'seur--if I thought that _you_ were the John Howland who murdered
+the father of Meleese sixteen years ago? God's saints, and I did until
+hardly more than half an hour ago, when some one came from the South and
+exploded a mine under our feet. It was the youngest of the three
+brothers. M'seur we have made a great mistake, and we ask your
+forgiveness."
+
+In the silence the eyes of the two men met across the table. To Howland
+it was not the thought that his life was saved that came with the
+greatest force, but the thought of Meleese, the knowledge that in that
+hour when all seemed to be lost she was nearer to him than ever. He
+leaned half over the table, his hands clenched, his eyes blazing. Jean
+did not understand, for he went on quickly.
+
+"I know it is hard, M'seur. Perhaps it will be impossible for you to
+forgive a thing like this. We have tried to kill you--kill you by a slow
+torture, as we thought you deserved. But think for a moment, M'seur, of
+what happened up here sixteen years ago this winter. I have told you how
+I choked life from the man-fiend. So I would have choked life from you
+if it had not been for Meleese. I, too, am guilty. Only six years ago we
+knew that the right John Howland--the son of the man I slew--was in
+Montreal, and we sent to seek him this youngest brother, for he had been
+a long time at school with Meleese and knew the ways of the South better
+than the others. But he failed to find him at that time, and it was only
+a short while ago that this brother located you.
+
+"As Our Blessed Lady is my witness, M'seur, it is not strange that he
+should have taken you for the man we sought, for it is singular that you
+bear him out like a brother in looks, as I remember the boy. It is true
+that Francois made a great error when he sent word to his brothers
+suggesting that if either Gregson or Thorne was put out of the way you
+would probably be sent into the North. I swear by the Virgin that
+Meleese knew nothing of this, M'seur. She knew nothing of the schemes by
+which her brothers drove Gregson and Thorne back into the South. They
+did not wish to kill them, and yet it was necessary to do something that
+you might replace one of them, M'seur. They did not make a move alone
+but that something happened. Gregson lost a finger. Thorne was badly
+hurt--as you know. Bullets came through their window at night. With
+Jackpine in their employ it was easy to work on them, and it was not
+long before they sent down asking for another man to replace them."
+
+For the first time a surge of anger swept through Howland.
+
+"The cowards!" he exclaimed. "A pretty pair, Croisset--to crawl out from
+under a trap to let another in at the top!"
+
+"Perhaps not so bad as that," said Jean. "They were given to understand
+that they--and they alone--were not wanted in the country. It may be
+that they did not think harm would come to you, and so kept quiet about
+what had happened. It may be, too, that they did not like to have it
+known that they were running away from danger. Is not that human,
+M'seur? Anyway, you were detailed to come, and not until then did
+Meleese know of all that had occurred."
+
+The Frenchman stopped for a moment. The glare had faded from Howland's
+eyes. The tense lines in his face relaxed.
+
+"I--I--believe I understand everything now, Jean," he said. "You traced
+the wrong John Howland, that's all. I love Meleese, Jean. I would kill
+John Howland for her. I want to meet her brothers and shake their hands.
+I don't blame them. They're men. But, somehow, it hurts to think of
+her--of Meleese--as--as almost a murderer."
+
+"_Mon Dieu_, M'seur, has she not saved your life! Listen to this! It
+was then--when she knew what had happened--that Meleese came to me--whom
+she had made the happiest man in the world because it was she who
+brought my Mariane over from Churchill on a visit especially that I
+might see her and fall in love with her, M'seur--which I did. Meleese
+came to me--to Jean Croisset--and instead of planning your murder,
+M'seur, she schemed to save your life--with me--who would have cut you
+into bits no larger than my finger and fed you to the carrion ravens,
+who would have choked the life out of you until your eyes bulged in
+death, as I choked that one up on the Great Slave! Do you understand,
+M'seur? It was Meleese who came and pleaded with me to save your
+life--before you had left Chicago, before she had heard more of you than
+your name, before--"
+
+Croisset hesitated, and stopped.
+
+"Before what, Jean?"
+
+"Before she had learned to love you, M'seur."
+
+"God bless her!" exclaimed Howland.
+
+"You believe this, M'seur?"
+
+"As I believe in a God."
+
+"Then I will tell you what she did, M'seur," he continued in a low
+voice. "The plan of the brothers was to make you a prisoner near Prince
+Albert and bring you north. I knew what was to happen then. It was to be
+a beautiful vengeance, M'seur--a slow torturing death on the spot where
+the crime was committed sixteen years ago. But Meleese knew nothing of
+this. She was made to believe that up here, where the mother and father
+died, you would be given over to the proper law--to the mounted police
+who come this way now and then. She is only a girl, M'seur, easily made
+to believe strange things in such matters as these, else she would have
+wondered why you were not given to the officers in Prince Albert. It was
+the eldest brother who thought of her as a lure to bring you out of the
+town into their hands, and not until the last moment, when they were
+ready to leave for the South, did she overhear words that aroused her
+suspicions that they were about to kill you. It was then, M'seur, that
+she came to me."
+
+"And you, Jean?"
+
+"On the day that Mariane promised to become my wife, M'seur, I promised
+in Our Blessed Lady's name to repay my debt to Meleese, and the manner
+of payment came in this fashion. Jackpine, too, was her slave, and so we
+worked together. Two hours after Meleese and her brothers had left for
+the South I was following them, shaven of beard and so changed that I
+was not recognized in the fight on the Great North Trail. Meleese
+thought that her brothers would make you a prisoner that night without
+harming you. Her brothers told her how to bring you to their camp. She
+knew nothing of the ambush until they leaped on you from cover. Not
+until after the fight, when in their rage at your escape the brothers
+told her that they had intended to kill you, did she realize fully what
+she had done. That is all, M'seur. You know what happened after that.
+She dared not tell you at Wekusko who your enemies were, for those
+enemies were of her own flesh and blood, and dearer to her than life.
+She was between two great loves, M'seur--the love for her
+brothers and--"
+
+Again Jean hesitated.
+
+"And her love for me," finished Howland.
+
+"Yes, her love for you, M'seur."
+
+The two men rose from the table, and for a moment stood with clasped
+hands in the smoky light of lamp and dawn. In that moment neither heard
+a tap at the door leading to the room beyond, nor saw the door move
+gently inward, and Meleese, hesitating, framed in the opening.
+
+It was Howland who spoke first.
+
+"I thank God that all these things have happened, Jean," he said
+earnestly. "I am glad that for a time you took me for that other John
+Howland, and that Pierre Thoreau and his brothers schemed to kill me at
+Prince Albert and Wekusko, for if these things had not occurred as they
+have I would never have seen Meleese. And now, Jean--"
+
+His ears caught sound of movement, and he turned in time to see Meleese
+slipping quietly out.
+
+"Meleese!" he called softly. "Meleese!"
+
+In an instant he had darted after her, leaving Jean beside the table.
+Beyond the door there was only the breaking gloom of the gray mornings
+but it was enough for him to see faintly the figure of the girl he
+loved, half turned, half waiting for him. With a cry of joy he sprang
+forward and gathered her close in his arms.
+
+"Meleese--my Meleese--" he whispered.
+
+After that there came no sound from the dawn-lit room beyond, but Jean
+Croisset, still standing by the table, murmured softly to himself: "Our
+Blessed Lady be praised, for it is all as Jean Croisset would have
+it--and now I can go to my Mariane!"
+
+
+
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