exerted upon him a magic effect. He had never experienced the like before. He must get away at once. Out upon the trail, battling against stern nature, he would surely regain his former self-mastery.
Hugo was not long in getting ready for his departure. He wrapped up the baby in a big fur-lined coat he found hanging on the wall. He hesitated when he realised that it was necessary to cast aside the lynx to make room for the lad upon the small toboggan. The pelt of the animal was valuable, but he could not afford to take the time to remove it. In fact, the lynx was of more use to him than the child. One he could sell for good money, while the other—well, he would be fortunate if he could give him away.
He thought of this as he tucked in the wee fellow, placing extra blankets about him to make sure that he would not be cold. According to the law of the country he was entitled to all the rights and privileges of the British Constitution. To take his life would be an indictable offense, and the punishment death if found out. But he could not be sold for money, and who would want him? Outside, someone might adopt him, or he could be placed in an Orphans’ Home. But here on the frontier of civilisation who would wish to be bothered with such a helpless waif? The life of the lynx, on the other hand, was worth nothing in the eyes of the law. Any one could take it with impunity. But the animal could be sold for a fair price. What a paradox! A dead lynx worth more than a priceless child!
Hugo sighed as he picked up his rifle and drew the cord of the toboggan over his shoulder. It was a problem too profound for him to solve. Others would have to attend to that, if they so desired, while he
