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diff --git a/old/10696-h.zip b/old/10696-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d9fef1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10696-h.zip diff --git a/old/10696-h/10696-h.htm b/old/10696-h/10696-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1f3ac4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10696-h/10696-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6103 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Danger Trail, by James Oliver Curwood</title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; } + table {font-size:14pt} + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + // --> + </style> +</head> +<body> +<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"> </td> <td></td> +<tr><td align="right">I. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER I" >The Girl of the Snows</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">II. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_II" >Lips That Speak Not</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">III. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_III" >The Mysterious Attack</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">IV. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV" >The Warning</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">V. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_V" >Howland's Midnight Visitor</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">VI. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI" >The Love of a Man</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">VII. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII" >The Blowing of the Coyote</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">VIII. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII" >The Hour of Death</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">IX. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX" >The Tryst</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">X. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">A Race Into the North</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XI. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The House of the Red Death</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XII. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Fight</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XIII. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Pursuit</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XIV. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Gleam of the Light</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XV. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">In the Bedroom Chamber</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XVI. </td> <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Jean's Story</a></td> +<tr><td align="right">XVII. </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>"Sounds as though I'd better go back to town," he said to himself, +speaking aloud. "By George, but it's lonely!"</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>"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."</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>"You smoke?" he asked companionably.</p> + +<p>"I was born in a wigwam," said the factor slowly, taking the cigar. +"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Four hundred miles," replied the factor with quiet terseness. "We're on +the edge of the Barren Lands."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" Howland shrugged his shoulders. Then he volunteered, "I'm going +north myself to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Post man?"</p> + +<p>"No; engineer. I'm putting through the Hudson Bay Railroad."</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>"Who was that?" he asked, turning to the factor.</p> + +<p>"His name is Croisset. He comes from the Wholdaia country, beyond Lac la +Ronge."</p> + +<p>"French?"</p> + +<p>"Half French, half Cree."</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>"Mighty funny people," he said half aloud. "Wonder if they ever talk!"</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>"The deuce, but she was pretty!" he excused himself. "And those eyes--"</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>"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."</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>"Tough joint," he muttered, falling into his old habit of communing with +himself. "Hope they make good tea."</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>"A pot of tea," ordered Howland; and under his breath he added, "Pretty +deuced good for a wilderness town! I wonder--"</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>"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?"</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>"Discrimination," he chuckled to himself. "Proof that she's not a +stranger here, and knows the price of things."</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>"I beg your pardon," he said, seating himself. "May I give you my card?"</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>"You must pardon me for not talking," he read. "I can hear you very +well, but I, unfortunately, am a mute."</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>"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."</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>"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--"</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>"I came because you came."</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked. His voice was low and assuring. "Tell me--why?"</p> + +<p>He read her words as she wrote them, leaning half across the table in +his eagerness.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>She left the sentence unfinished, her eyes pleading with him. Without a +word he rose and seized his hat.</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"It's a glorious night!" 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>"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?"</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"You seem pretty well acquainted over here," he persisted. "Where are we +going?"</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>"Camp!" he cried, straightening himself. "Do you mean to say you're +camping out here?"</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. "You!" +he exclaimed. "<i>You</i>--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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he cried. "Tell me--"</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>"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?"</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>"I happened here--just in time--with a club," continued Croisset. "Come, +we must go."</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>"The girl--" he gasped weakly.</p> + +<p>Croisset's arm tightened about his waist.</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!"</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>"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? <i>Ce monde est plein de fous!</i>"</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>"Ah, M'seur ees awake!" he said, seeing the wide-open eyes. He came in +softly, closing the door behind him. "<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," he smiled, approaching with noiseless tread. He held +a glass of water to Howland's lips.</p> + +<p>"Is it bad, Croisset?"</p> + +<p>"So bad that you will be in bed for a day or so, M'seur. That is all."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" cried the young engineer. "I must take the eight o'clock +train in the morning. I must be in Le Pas--"</p> + +<p>"It is five o'clock now," interrupted Jean softly. "Do you feel like +going?"</p> + +<p>Howland straightened himself and fell back suddenly with a sharp cry.</p> + +<p>"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--"</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>"Do you know?" he whispered eagerly. "Who was she? Why did she lead me +into that ambush? Why did they attempt to kill me?"</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>"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!"</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: "<i>Mon Dieu</i>, you are killing him--killing him!"</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 "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.</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>For a few moments Howland was speechless.</p> + +<p>"Yes--it--was--a--bad--fall," he replied at last, looking sharply at the +other. "Where is Croisset?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything about him?" asked Howland a little eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No. He comes in about once or twice a year."</p> + +<p>The young engineer munched his toast and drank his coffee for some +moments in silence. Then, casually, he asked,</p> + +<p>"Did you ever hear of a person by the name of Meleese?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Howland shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"This was a young woman," he said.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Good for Croisset!" Howland muttered; "good for Croisset. It looks as +though he used a knife."</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>"Mr. Gregson is waiting for you at Le Pas," said one of the men who had +come with it. "Thorne is at Wekusko."</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, "Twent' t'ousand moose down +there--twent' t'ousand caribou-oo! No man--no house--more twent' +t'ousand miles!"</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>"That's the hotel," said one of the men. "Gregson's there."</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I'm falling more in love with it at every breath, Gregson. What's the +matter? Have you been sick?"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing--not a cursed thing." Suddenly his eyes lighted up. "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!"</p> + +<p>They had entered through the low door of the log boarding-house and +Gregson was throwing off his heavy coat.</p> + +<p>"A tall girl, with a fur hat and muff?" queried Howland eagerly.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't there a girl somewhere up around our camp named Meleese?" asked +Howland casually.</p> + +<p>"Never heard of her," said Gregson.</p> + +<p>"Or a man named Croisset?"</p> + +<p>"Never heard of him."</p> + +<p>"The deuce, but you're interesting," laughed the young engineer, +sniffing at the odors of cooking supper. "I'm as hungry as a bear!"</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>"By the god of love, there she is, old man! Quick, if you want to get a +glimpse of her!"</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>"I thought you didn't care for theaters--<i>and girls</i>, 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--"</p> + +<p>Howland interrupted him sharply.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see either of them before, Gregson?"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" growled Howland, betraying irritability for the first time. +"Let's go in to supper."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"Do you think that she knew you?" asked Howland quietly.</p> + +<p>Gregson hunched his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"How the deuce could she know me?"</p> + +<p>"Then why did she look at you so 'squarely?' Trying to flirt, do you +suppose?"</p> + +<p>Surprise shot into Gregson's face.</p> + +<p>"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 <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?"</p> + +<p>"Just curiosity," replied Howland, "I don't like flirts."</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"A little accident," he explained. "You'll meet 'em up here, Howland."</p> + +<p>Before he could move, the young engineer had caught his arm and was +looking closely at the hand.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>He dropped the hand in time to see a nervous flush in the other's face.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"This came while you was at supper, Mr. Howland," 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>"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."</p> + +<p>"The devil!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" 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>"A little private affair," he laughed. "Comes Gregson, let's see what +we can discover."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as we've had breakfast--if you're anxious."</p> + +<p>"I am. Good night."</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. "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.</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>Howland hunched his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"To be honest, Gregson, I don't believe you'd be particularly cheerful +company. What sort of fellow is the driver?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</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>"That was glorious, Jackpine!" he cried. "But, good Lord, man, you'll +kill the dogs!"</p> + +<p>Jackpine grinned.</p> + +<p>"They go sixt' mile in day lak dat," He grinned.</p> + +<p>"Sixty miles!"</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>"No touch huskie!" he exclaimed. "Heem half wolf--half dog--work hard +but no lak to be touch!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"Gregson told me to be sure and have the camp guarded at night, +Jackpine. What do you think about it?"</p> + +<p>The Indian turned with a queer chuckles his lathery face wrinkled in a +grin.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Afraid of what?"</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>"Mebby heem finger ax'dent--mebby not," 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>"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--"</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>"Afraid, eh? And am I to stay here?"</p> + +<p>"Gregson um Thorne say yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, Jackpine, you just hustle over to the camp and tell Thorne I'm +here, will you?"</p> + +<p>For a moment the Indian hesitated, then went out and closed the door +after him.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Hello, Jack!" he greeted. "What's the matter, man? Do I look like a +ghost?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Thorne? I found Gregson half dying at Le Pas, and +now you--"</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Just a word I've got for them--if they're here," replied Howland +carelessly. "Are these my quarters?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"Who shot him?" gasped the senior engineer. "Why--er--didn't Gregson +tell you that it was an accident?"</p> + +<p>"Why should he lie, Thorne?"</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>"He told me that it was an accident," said Thorne at last.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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, "Perhaps Gregson was afraid that the fellow who clipped off +his finger would get him through the window, eh?"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>She drew away from him, her eyes searching his face.</p> + +<p>"I lied to you," she breathed, her words coming to him in a whisper. "I +lied--"</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>"Sometimes the friend who lies is the only friend who's true," he said. +"I believe that it was necessary for you to--lie."</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 +<i>had</i> to lie to me."</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>"And I believe you will not lie to me again," 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>"No, I will not lie to you again," she replied, more firmly. "Do you +believe me now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"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--"</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>"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--<i>who</i> is going to kill me, and <i>why</i>?"</p> + +<p>He felt a convulsive shudder pass through her as she answered,</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But you know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>He seated her again in the chair beside the table and sat down opposite +her.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me who you are?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated, twisting her fingers nervously in a silken strand of her +hair. "Will you?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>"If I tell you who I am," she said at last, "you will know who is +threatening your life."</p> + +<p>He stated at her in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"You will go?" she entreated. "You will go to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>Her hand was on the latch of the door.</p> + +<p>"You will go?"</p> + +<p>He had risen, and was lighting a cigar over the chimney of the lamp. +Laughing, he came toward her.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"You can not go!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again. +"Because they will kill you!"</p> + +<p>The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.</p> + +<p>"I am glad that you care," he whispered to her softly.</p> + +<p>"You must go!" she still persisted.</p> + +<p>"With you, yes," he answered.</p> + +<p>"No, no--to-morrow. You must go back to Le Pas--back into the South. +Will you promise me that?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Only a little farther," 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>"Now--now you must go!"</p> + +<p>Howland turned as if to obey. In an instant the girl was at his side.</p> + +<p>"You have not promised," she entreated. "Will you go--to-morrow?"</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>"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--"</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>"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."</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>"If you love me you will do this thing for me. You will go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"I?" He heard the tremulous quiver in her voice. "Very soon you will +forget that you have--ever--seen--me."</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>"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--"</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>"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.</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>"Don't--don't--don't--" 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>"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!"</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>"I love you," 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>"They are gone," she said tremblingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; they are gone."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes--that much--now. It is Meleese."</p> + +<p>"Meleese!"</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, "Perhaps +you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the +little Meleese." What had Croisset meant?</p> + +<p>"Meleese," he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face.</p> + +<p>"Yes--Meleese--"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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--"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>Suddenly she lifted her hands to his face and pushed back his head, +looking squarely into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And leave you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes--and leave me."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>A soft glow came into the girl's eyes as she unclasped his arms and +stood back from him.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I swear it!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I promise."</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>"Any one been here, Jackpine?"</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>"Thorne," he grunted.</p> + +<p>Howland spread out the paper in the light of the lamp, and read:</p> + +<p>"MY DEAR HOWLAND:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A whistle of astonishment escaped Howland's lips.</p> + +<p>"Where do you sleep, Jackpine?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Cabin in edge of woods," replied the Indian.</p> + +<p>"How about breakfast? Thorne hasn't put me on to the grub line yet."</p> + +<p>"Thorne say you eat with heem in mornin'. I come early--wake you. After +heem go--to-morrow--eat here."</p> + +<p>"You needn't wake me," said Howland, throwing off his coat. "I'll find +Thorne--probably before he's up. Good night."</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>"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.</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Didn't they send Weston up with you?" asked Howland. He knew that +Weston was the best "accident man" in the company's employ.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"A ship-yard!" exclaimed Howland in genuine surprise.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>From Howland he whirled on the senior with the sudden movement of a +cricket.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"He brought them," said Thorne. "But how about this coyote, Mac? I +thought it was ready to fire."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>A little later they returned with Thorne to his room.</p> + +<p>"I want Howland to see this south coyote go up," said MacDonald. "Can +you spare him? We'll be back before noon."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Come and take dinner with me at twelve. That will give me +time to make memoranda of things I may have forgotten."</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 "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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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 "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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"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.</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"MacDonald told me the thing was ready for firing," said Howland, +putting on his hat and coat. "What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Bad packing, I guess. Heard him swearing about it. He's in a terrible +sweat to see you."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</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--"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.</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>"This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--"</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>"Half-past ten!"</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"What's up, MacDonald?"</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>"Howland!" 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>"Get out of the coyote, boys," he said. "We won't do anything more until +morning."</p> + +<p>To MacDonald, as the men went out ahead of them, he added in a low +voice:</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"Meleese?" 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>"Now--now--" she sobbed, "<i>now</i> will you go?"</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>"You will go?" she sobbed again and again. "You will go--you will go--"</p> + +<p>He ran his fingers through her soft hair, crushing his face close to +hers.</p> + +<p>"No, I am not going, dear," he replied in a low, firm voice. "Not after +what happened to-night."</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>"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."</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>"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--"</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"It is a quarter past midnight."</p> + +<p>The faintest shadow of a smile passed over the girl's lips.</p> + +<p>"Are you certain that your watch is not fast?" she asked.</p> + +<p>In speechless bewilderment Howland stared at her.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"There might be one--just <i>one</i> 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?"</p> + +<p>A look of ineffable tenderness came into the beautiful eyes so near to +his own.</p> + +<p>"That is impossible. You will not love me when you know what I am--what +I have done--"</p> + +<p>He stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Have you done wrong--a great wrong?"</p> + +<p>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 <i>that!</i>"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>He looked again.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five minutes after midnight."</p> + +<p>"Let us go farther up the trail," she whispered. "I am afraid here."</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>"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.</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>"Good-by," he heard her breathe. "Good-by--good-by--"</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>"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."</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>"Help me with the M'seur before you go, Jackpine. He is a dead weight +with all those rawhides about him."</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>"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!"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>The smile left Croisset's face.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Meleese, M'seur Howland?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Croisset leaned down with his black eyes gleaming like coals.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, Croisset, tell me why--why--"</p> + +<p>Croisset had found Howland's pistol and freed his hands, and the +engineer stretched them out entreatingly.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Croisset was smiling at him again.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"They!" exclaimed Howland. "How many will it take to kill me, my dear +Croisset?" The half-breed smiled down into his face again.</p> + +<p>"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."</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! "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!"</p> + +<p>"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.</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Have you a Bible, Croisset?"</p> + +<p>"No, M'seur, but I have the cross of our Virgin, given to me by the +missioner at York Factory."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Croisset was searching in his pockets.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" 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."</p> + +<p>"And who is Mariane, Jean? Will she also be in at the 'kill?'"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"You love her a great deal, Jean."</p> + +<p>"Next to the Virgin--and--it may be a little better."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>He had staggered to his feet, and pointed into the forests through which +they had come.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>Croisset reached out and took his hand.</p> + +<p>"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 <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?"</p> + +<p>"Starved!" 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>"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."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.</p> + +<p>"If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one."</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>Croisset interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Did she do that, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"I swear it."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I believe that it will--unless you kill me."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And if I object--fight?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And who are you, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" gasped Jean. "Yes, I will smoke, M'seur. Is that moose +steak good?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, M'seur. It must be unpleasant."</p> + +<p>"That dream was what turned my hair white, Jean. See how white it +is--whiter than the snow!"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Right away, M'seur," said Croisset, who was stirring up the dogs. "Will +you walk and run, or ride?"</p> + +<p>"Walk and run, with your permission."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Croisset hesitated.</p> + +<p>"You will not attempt to escape--and you will hold your tongue?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Jean drew forth his revolver and deliberately cocked it.</p> + +<p>"Bear in mind, M'seur, that I will kill you if you break your word. You +may go ahead."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>There was an uneasy gleam in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I must tie your hands, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"But I have given you my word, Jean--"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Howland thrust his wrists behind him and about them Jean twisted a thong +of babeesh.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"You're getting on my nerves, Jean--you and that accursed dog!"</p> + +<p>"Silence, M'seur!"</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>"Stay here," he commanded. "I will return soon."</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>"It is as I thought, M'seur. There is death down here. Come with me!"</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>"M'seur, it would be hard for you to guess where you are."</p> + +<p>Howland waited.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ye gods!" breathed Howland. "Is there anything more, Croisset? Safe +from what, man? Safe from what?"</p> + +<p>"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>"</p> + +<p>For a moment Howland sat as if stunned.</p> + +<p>"Do you understand, M'seur?" persisted Croisset, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I--I--think I do," replied Howland tensely. "You mean--Meleese--"</p> + +<p>Jean took the words from him.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You will tell me nothing more, Jean?" the engineer asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"You said there was death here," whispered Howland, leaning close to his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Howland shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Of the smallpox?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>For a few moments they stood in silence. Then Croisset added, "You will +remain here, M'seur, until I return."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you're going to leave me here alone--in this +wretched prison?" cried Howland.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, is it not better than a grave, M'seur? I will be back at +the end of a week."</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>"Jean--if you don't come back--what will happen?"</p> + +<p>He heard the half-breed chuckling.</p> + +<p>"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!"</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: "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!</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>"<i>Bon jour</i>, M'seur," called Jean's cheerful voice as he stepped inside. +"Is it possible you are not up, with all this dog-barking and--"</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>"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 <i>Maison de Mort Rouge</i>. It is the justice of God +that I kill you!"</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>"I am sure now that I am going to kill you, M'seur," 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>"I am going to kill you," 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>"I am going to kill you, M'seur," 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>"Now, M'seur, I am going to kill you," he said in the same low voice. "I +am going to break your neck."</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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, 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?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>A gray pallor spread itself over Jean's thin face.</p> + +<p>"The great God, M'seur, you can not do that!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Can not!</i>" 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."</p> + +<p>"<i>If</i>, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"Yes--<i>if</i>."</p> + +<p>"And that 'if'--" Jean was straining against the table.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And if I take you to Meleese, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>Howland straightened, his voice trembling a little with excitement.</p> + +<p>"If you take me to Meleese, and swear to do as I say, I shall bring no +harm to you or your friends."</p> + +<p>"And Meleese--" Jean's eyes darkened again, "You will not harm her, +M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"Harm <i>her</i>!" 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. <i>Harm her</i>--" Again Howland laughed, leaning his white +face toward Jean. "Come, which shall it be, Croisset?"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"Good!" cried Howland.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Howland turned briskly to the stove.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I was anticipating that pleasure with you, M'seur," replied Jean with +grim humor.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to be killed, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"So you've said before. When I see Meleese I'm going to know the reason +why, or--"</p> + +<p>"Or what, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"I took your word of honor," said Jean sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I am going to give you the use of your arms and legs, except at night," +he said.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, it is safe," grunted Jean. "I give you my word that I will +be good, M'seur."</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"I will take," interrupted Howland decisively.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"There will at least be a little fun at the finish," laughed the young +engineer. "Come, Jean, hit up the dogs!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, 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.</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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, 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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"But not when he's going to his funeral, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"The devil!" grunted Jean.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you're jealous, Croisset," suggested Howland. "Great Scott, I +hadn't thought of <i>that!</i>"</p> + +<p>"I've got one of my own to love, M'seur; and I wouldn't trade her for +all else in the world."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"That you are mad--or a fool," 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>"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--"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders and started the dogs into a trot.</p> + +<p>"Look here," cried Howland, running beside him. "Who is with this other +sledge?"</p> + +<p>"Those who tried to kill you on the trail and at the coyote, M'seur," 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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Who? Meleese and Jackpine, or--"</p> + +<p>"No, the others, M'seur. Shall we have dinner here?"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"If they are ahead of us you might just as well stand out there and let +me put a bullet through you, M'seur."</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>"What do you think of it, M'seur?" he cried, pointing to the snow. +"What do you think of that?"</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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, but you are careless!" he exclaimed. "Be more careful, +M'seur. I may give myself up to another temptation like that."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Croisset had fallen on his knees in the trail.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Is there anything to eat?"</p> + +<p>"A morsel of cold meat--that is all. But I say that it is impossible. +That sledge--"</p> + +<p>Howland interrupted him with an impatient gesture.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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. <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!"</p> + +<p>Jean lifted a warning hand. Faintly there came to them through the +forest the distant baying of a hound.</p> + +<p>"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?"</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>"If I had not stopped you--we would have gone on?" he questioned +tensely.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, M'seur," retorted Croisset, still smiling. "You warned me +to lose no time--that something would happen if I did."</p> + +<p>With a quick movement Howland drew his revolver and leveled it at the +Frenchman's heart.</p> + +<p>"If you ever prayed to those blessed saints of yours, do it now, Jean +Croisset. I'm going to kill you!" 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>"Damnation! An empty cartridge!" Howland exclaimed. "I forgot to load +after those three shots at the cup. It's coming this time, Jean!"</p> + +<p>Purposely he snapped the second empty cartridge.</p> + +<p>"The great God!" gasped Jean. "M'seur--"</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>"They are coming!" exclaimed Croisset. "M'seur, I swear to--"</p> + +<p>Again Howland's pistol covered his heart.</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"What then?" demanded Howland.</p> + +<p>"You can shoot me a little later," temporized the Frenchman with a show +of his old coolness. "<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?"</p> + +<p>"I will shoot--if you fail," 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 "hup, hup," and a low crack of his whip Jean stopped +the dogs.</p> + +<p>"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. "<i>Sacre</i>, they would not +be fools enough to pass it without wondering!"</p> + +<p>Howland had broken the breech of his revolver and was replacing the +three empty cartridges with fresh ones.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"The devil, but you make me uncomfortable," he protested. "The hammer is +up, too, M'seur!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the Frenchman halted where the banskians climbed the +side of a sloping ridge.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, 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!"</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>"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."</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>"You say Meleese--is there?" he questioned hesitatingly. "And he--who is +that man, Croisset?"</p> + +<p>Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning +leisurely toward the old cabin.</p> + +<p>"<i>Non</i>, 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!"</p> + +<p>Again the threatening fire leaped into Howland's eyes.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You will tell me all that I want to know," 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>"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 <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."</p> + +<p>Jean sat unflinching, his lips drawn tightly, his head set square and +defiant.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Slowly Howland raised his revolver.</p> + +<p>"Once more, Croisset--will you tell me?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Non</i>, M'seur--"</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>"Will you tell me, Croisset?"</p> + +<p>This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely +between the Frenchman's eyes.</p> + +<p>"<i>Non</i>, M'seur."</p> + +<p>The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel. With a cry Howland +slowly lowered his weapon.</p> + +<p>"Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!" he cried. "I'd sooner +kill a dozen men that I know than you!"</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>"Deuce take it if I don't feel like apologizing to you," he exclaimed. +"Does your ear hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No more than if I had scratched it with a thorn," returned Jean +politely. "You are good with the pistol, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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. <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."</p> + +<p>"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. +<i>Non</i>, since that fight back there I do not believe that I want to +kill you."</p> + +<p>"But I would be a fool to trust you. Isn't that so?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But you murder people for pastime--eh, my dear Jean?"</p> + +<p>Croisset shrugged his shoulders without speaking.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"And the message--what would it be?"</p> + +<p>"It would bring Meleese up to this cabin--to-night."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"I am certain that it would. Will you go?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Non</i>, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Of course, I'm not going to feed you," he said curtly, "so I'll have to +free your hands. But be careful."</p> + +<p>He placed his revolver on the table beside him after he had freed +Croisset.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"You lie!" snapped Howland.</p> + +<p>Jean lowered the cup without drinking.</p> + +<p>"It's the truth, M'seur," he insisted. "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!"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I will make no outcry, M'seur. I give you my word for that."</p> + +<p>With another length of babeesh Howland tied his companion's legs.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind spreading a blanket on the floor, M'seur? If you are +gone long this box will grow hard and sharp."</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>"Meleese!" 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>"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--<i>now</i>." 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!"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>Her words seemed to choke her as she struggled to finish.</p> + +<p>"Tell Jean what?" he questioned softly.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"No," he interrupted.</p> + +<p>"If you only knew--then you would go back, and never see me again. You +would understand--"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>For a moment he stopped, looking straight into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Her eyes flamed on him with a strange light.</p> + +<p>"No," he said calmly. "I would not believe you."</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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--"</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>"You must go--through this!" she cried chokingly. "Quick! O, my God, +won't you hurry? Won't you go?"</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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>"I prefer to fight and be killed rather than to run away without you," +he interrupted. "If you will go--"</p> + +<p>She crushed herself against his breast.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You swear that you will follow me--that you will come down to the +Wekusko? My God, are you telling me the truth, Meleese?"</p> + +<p>"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--"</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>"You will be my wife?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>He felt her throbbing against him. Suddenly her arms tightened around +his neck.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you want me then--if you want me after you know what I am. Now, +go--please, please go!"</p> + +<p>He pulled himself through the window, hanging for a last moment to the +ledge.</p> + +<p>"If you fail to come--within a month--I shall return," 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>"I will come," 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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, I had hoped to find you dead," 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>"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."</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>"Too late, M'seur," he said meaningly. "They are waiting up there now. +It is impossible for you to escape."</p> + +<p>"That is what I thought about you," replied Howland, forcing himself to +speak coolly. "How did you manage it?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It was Meleese," said Howland. "I told her."</p> + +<p>Jean dropped his head in his hands.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>A clammy chill passed over Howland as he read the time.</p> + +<p>"Half-past four."</p> + +<p>The Frenchman shivered; his fingers clasped and unclasped nervously as +he leaned nearer his companion.</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>Something seemed to choke him and he stopped.</p> + +<p>"At six--what then?" urged Howland. "My God, man, what makes you look +so? What is to happen at six?"</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>Again he stopped, choking for words.</p> + +<p>"What?" insisted Howland, leaning toward him, his face as white as the +tallow in the little dish on the table.</p> + +<p>"Their executioner, M'seur."</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>"Great God!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I shall understand, Jean," whispered Howland. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"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, +<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>"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."</p> + +<p>"She is dead," uttered Howland, forgetting in these tense moments the +significance Jean's story might hold for him.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she is dead. M'seur, shall I tell you how she died?"</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>"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.</p> + +<p>"<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?"</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>"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>"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--"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Jean was eying him like an animal. His voice was low.</p> + +<p>"They escaped, M'seur."</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>"They have sent you this, M'seur," he said. "'At the very last,' they +told me, 'let him read this.'"</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>"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--"</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>"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!"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>Howland was scarcely breathing.</p> + +<p>"And the other--the son--" he whispered densely. "You found him, +Croisset? You killed him?"</p> + +<p>"What would you have done, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>Howland's hands gripped those that guarded the little parcel.</p> + +<p>"I would have killed him, Jean."</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly, deliberately.</p> + +<p>"I would have killed him," he repeated.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that, M'seur."</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>"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."</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>"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."</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: +"On this day there came to our post, from the Churchill way, John +Howland and his son."</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>"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--"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>There was silence, in which the eyes of the two men met.</p> + +<p>"I understand," repeated the engineer, advancing a step. "And you, Jean +Croisset--do you believe that I am <i>that</i> John Howland--the John +Howland--the son who--"</p> + +<p>He stopped, waiting for Jean to comprehend, to speak.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."<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: "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.</p> + +<p>"<i>'I will follow you.</i>'"</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>"Jean," he called tensely. "Ho, Jean--Jean Croisset--"</p> + +<p>He caught up the paper and ran from one black opening to another, +calling the Frenchman's name.</p> + +<p>"As you love your God, Jean, as you have a hope of Heaven, take this +note to Meleese!" he pleaded. "Jean--Jean Croisset--"</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>"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!"</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>"M'seur, will you come with us?" 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>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, 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!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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 <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."</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>"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>"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 François 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."</p> + +<p>For the first time a surge of anger swept through Howland.</p> + +<p>"The cowards!" he exclaimed. "A pretty pair, Croisset--to crawl out from +under a trap to let another in at the top!"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"<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--"</p> + +<p>Croisset hesitated, and stopped.</p> + +<p>"Before what, Jean?"</p> + +<p>"Before she had learned to love you, M'seur."</p> + +<p>"God bless her!" exclaimed Howland.</p> + +<p>"You believe this, M'seur?"</p> + +<p>"As I believe in a God."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And you, Jean?"</p> + +<p>"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--"</p> + +<p>Again Jean hesitated.</p> + +<p>"And her love for me," finished Howland.</p> + +<p>"Yes, her love for you, M'seur."</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>"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--"</p> + +<p>His ears caught sound of movement, and he turned in time to see Meleese +slipping quietly out.</p> + +<p>"Meleese!" he called softly. "Meleese!"</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>"Meleese--my Meleese--" 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: "Our +Blessed Lady be praised, for it is all as Jean Croisset would have +it--and now I can go to my Mariane!"</p> + +<br> +<hr class="full"> +<pre> + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DANGER TRAIL*** + +******* This file should be named 10696-h.txt or 10696-h.zip ******* + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/9/10696">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/9/10696</a> + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/10696.txt b/old/10696.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cd7495 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10696.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6073 @@ +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!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DANGER TRAIL*** + + +******* This file should be named 10696.txt or 10696.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/6/9/10696 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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