oment; forgot his own wrong and his own vengeance. He looked
at the stars and they seemed far away and dim; the shadows about him
were like blackness intensified into tangible things.

When at last he came back to his bed the fires were out; all the others
had gone to their rest. He fancied, however, that none of them slept.
He pictured each one, his own father, Kootanie George, Ernestine,
Lieutenant Max, lying wide awake, staring up into the stars, each one
busy with his own destiny. What pitiful pictures are projected into
the calm of the star-set skies from the wretched turmoil of fevered
brains!

"I must come to Sefton first!"

It was Drennen's last thought that night. His first thought in the dim
dawn was:

"I must come to Sefton first!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE PATH DOWN THE CLIFF

In the thick darkness half way between midnight and the first glimmer
of the new day Drennen awoke. That he must silence Sefton before Max
came up with him was the thought awaking with him. He was fully
conscious of his purpose before he knew what it was that had awakened
him.

Quite close to him was the noise of breaking brush and snapping twigs.
Evidently one of the pack animals had broken its tie-rope. He lifted
himself upon his elbow, frowning into the darkness. The horse was not
ten feet from him and yet it was hard to distinguish that darker blot
in the darkness which bespoke the brute's body.

"What is it?"

It was the voice of Kootanie George from the big Canadian's bed some
fifty feet away. It was the first time George had spoken to Drennen.
Drennen answered quietly:

"One of the horses has broken his rope."

Knowing that the animal might wander back along the trail and cause no
little delay in the morning, Drennen slipped on his boots and went to
tie him. The horse, seeing where the man could not, drew back toward
the cliffs. Drennen, led by the noise of breaking underbrush, at last
was enabled to make out distinctly the looming form in a little
clearing. Stooping swiftly, through a random clutch at the ground, he
was lucky enough to seize the end of the broken rope.

"It's Black Ben," he thought. "Max's horse."

A sudden temptation came to him. Puzzling it over he led the horse
slowly toward the grassy flat under the cliffs where the others were
tethered. Suppose that he turned Max's horse loose? And Kootanie's?
And that he should head them back along the trail? Not a pretty trick
to play,