fully alert. That it was a dog-team, he soon became certain, and it was rapidly approaching. Forgotten in an instant was Hugo’s half-formed resolve to face the world boldly, and begin life anew. The habits of years had taken too firm a grip upon him to be shuffled off at will like a suit of clothes. Like a subtle poison the spirit of determined antagonism had permeated his entire being, affecting his every thought and action.
With an angry growl he sprang from the trail, crashed through the trees, and made his way to the base of the hill not far away. Here he paused and looked back. Not being able to see anything owing to the intervening trees, he ascended the hill until he came to a large rock behind which he crouched. From this place of concealment he could see fairly well all that took place on the trail below. Neither did he have long to wait, for in a few minutes a dog-team hove in sight, and pulled up near the abandoned camping-place. The two men who accompanied the dogs he at once recognized as Sergeant North and Constable Rolfe. He shrank back a little more behind the great rock, fearful lest he should be observed. His respect for the Police was now greater than ever. The day before he had watched them as they sped along the main trail between Big Chance and The Gap. He had smiled grimly then, satisfied that they were on the wrong scent. Now, however, they were right before him, and but for his keenness of hearing and quickness of action they would have been upon him before he could escape. To accomplish that journey they must have travelled all night. But why had they changed their course? That thought filled him with an intense uneasiness. His heart throbbed with hatred as he watched them. How easily he could pick them off. Only two shots would
