he open in colder weather than was often felt in British
Columbia, and as wood was plentiful, there was no reason the man should
not make a fire after dark, if he could find an outlet for the smoke.
He must now find out who was hiding in the mine, but thought he knew,
for vague suspicions suddenly got clear.

To begin with, the fellow who watched Telford at the hotel was either a
policeman or a private detective in Hulton's pay. Then Foster had lost
Daly's track at Banff, which was not very far off, and taking it for
granted that Telford belonged to the gang, it was logical to suppose
that he had arranged a meeting with Daly and Walters. On arrival Daly
had found that the town was watched, but was either unable to leave it
without being followed or detained by his business with the others. In
consequence, he had taken refuge in the mine.

Foster sent Pete away and smoked another pipe. He would have liked to
visit the mine at once, but if he went, would meet Telford coming back
or find him when he reached the spot, and he must see Daly alone. He
ought, of course, to warn the man he thought a detective, but did not
mean to do so, and this resolve brought up a problem he had tried to
solve before: what could he offer Daly in return for his keeping
Lawrence's secret?

If the fellow had killed Fred Hulton, it was unthinkable that he should
help him to escape. Foster felt that he had perhaps, in a sense,
already become Daly's accomplice, but meant to save his comrade and
keep his promise to Alice. He would see Daly in the morning and decide
then what line to take; after all, luck might help him again. Then he
knocked out his pipe and went to bed.

After breakfast next morning he called for Pete and walked carelessly
to the main bridge. He, however, took his pistol and when they reached
the woods Pete cut a heavy stick. Foster did not expect to use force,
but it was better to be prepared. While Pete was trimming his cudgel
they heard the heavy snorting of a locomotive and a plume of smoke
moved across the town. Then they saw through an opening in the trees
the cars roll along the mountain side. The Montreal express had
stopped on its journey east, but Foster was preoccupied and thought
nothing of this.

The snow was very soft when they plodded up the path among the trees,
but it was not far to the clearing, and Foster stopped at its edge. He
had met nobody, and the woods were silent except for the dying roar