ly. He tried to smile, but it ended only in a misshapen snarl.

"I thought you fellows were looking for something. I--I--wanted to get
the dog off."

"We were. We've found it. Ba'tiste," and Houston forced back the
tigerish form of the big French-Canadian. "You walk in front of us.
I'm--I'm afraid to trust you right now. And don't turn back. Do you
promise?"

The big hands worked convulsively. The eyes took on a newer, fiercer
glare.

"He is the man, eh? His conscience, eet speak when there is no one to
ask the question. He--"

"Go on, Ba'tiste. Please." Houston's voice was that of a pleading
son. Once more the big muscles knotted, the arms churned; the giant's
teeth showed between furled lips in a sudden beast-like expression.

"Ba'tiste! Do you want to add murder to murder? This is out of our
hands now; it's a matter of law. Now, go ahead--for me."

With an effort the Canadian obeyed, the wolf-dog trotting beside him,
Houston following, one hand locked about the buckle of the thinner
man's belt, the other half supporting him as he limped and reeled
through the snow.

"It's my hip--" The man's mind had gone to trivial things. "I
sprained it--about ten days ago. I'd been living over here with her up
till the storm. Then I had to be at camp. I--"

"That was your child, then?"

Fred Thayer was silent. Barry Houston repeated the question
commandingly. There could be no secrecy now; events had gone too far.
For a third time the accusation came and the man beside him turned
angrily.

"Whose would you think it was?"

Houston did not answer. They stumbled on through the snow-drifted
woods, finally to reach the open space leading to the sleigh. Thayer
drew back.

"What's the use of taking me into town?" he begged. "She's dead and
gone; you can't harm her now."

"We're not inquiring about her."

"But she's the one that did it. She told me--when she first got sick.
Those are her things in there. They're--"

"Have I asked you about anything?" Houston bit the words at him.
Again the man was silent. They reached the sled, and Ba'tiste pointed
to the seat.

"In there," he ordered. "Ba'teese will walk. Ba'teese afraid--too
close." And then, in silence, the trip to town was made, at last to
draw up in front of the boarding house. Houston called to a bystander.

"Is the 'phone working--to Montview?"

"Yeh. Think it is. Got it opened up yesterday."

"Then call up over there