her father with that murder? Why did he fear the Police if he were innocent? But he had been fleeing from them for years, so it seemed. And where was Bill, the Slugger? He strongly suspected him now in connection with that murder. It was most likely that he would try to escape by way of The Gap, for to try any other easterly route to reach the outside in the winter time would be madness. It was important, therefore, that he should reach The Gap ahead of the villain. And where was the half-breed girl? He needed her, for she evidently knew a great deal. Perhaps Bill would have her with him, and if so, he could take both together. For the present he would abandon his pursuit of Hugo, the trapper. He could get him later to tell what he knew after he had rounded up Bill and the girl.
Steadily the dogs raced the low sun out of the heavens that short winter afternoon. Twilight tarried for a space, and then night enshrouded the land. And with the darkness came a halt, a camping-place was selected, and preparations made for the night. Soon, in a snug lean-to, Marion sat upon a robe spread over a bed of fir boughs. Rolfe attended to the cooking of the supper, and ere long the appetizing odor of frying moose-meat steak pervaded the air. He refused to allow Marion to assist, contending that he was going to prove to her the falseness of the sergeant’s charge.
“He says I can’t cook,” he remarked as he turned the meat in the frying-pan. “But I’m going to let you judge for yourself, Miss Brisbane. That will be the best answer I can make.”
“Oh, Tom is putting on his best frills now,” North retorted, straightening himself from his work of building another lean-to on the opposite side of the fire.
