rest of the party gathered round,
breathless after their haste, and when Lane spoke there was grave
authority in his voice.

"Give me a hand, boys. We have to get him out."

They did so with mingled compassion and reluctance, though Harding was
sensible of a curious strained expectation, and soon the body lay clear
of the snow. The dim light fell on the frozen face and Blake started.

"It's Clarke!" he cried.

"Sure," said Harding gravely. "I'm not surprised."

"Then you knew him?" Lane's tone was sharp.

"Yes," Benson interposed, "I knew him pretty well. He lived at
Sweetwater, where we're going. I can give you any particulars you
want."

"I'll ask you later." The Sergeant knelt down and carefully studied
the dead man's pose before he added: "Looks as if he'd been caught in
the blizzard and died of exposure; but that's a thing I've got to
ascertain. I'll want somebody's help in getting him out of this big
coat."

None of them volunteered, but when Lane gave Walthew a sharp order
Blake and Harding joined them and the latter afterwards held the fur
coat. Blake noticed that he folded and arranged it on his arm with
what seemed needless care, though he first turned his back upon the
others. Lane was now engaged in examining the body and the others
stood watching him, impressed by the scene. All round the narrow
opening the spruces rose darkly against the threatening sky, and in its
midst the Sergeant bent over the still form. It made a dark blot on
the pale glimmer of the snow and the white patch of the face was
faintly distinguishable in the fading light. The spruce tops stirred,
shaking down loose snow, which fell with a soft patter, and the wind
blew trails of it about.

"I can find nothing wrong," Lane said at last.

"Considering that you came across the man lying frozen after one of the
worst storms you remember, what did you expect to find?" Harding asked.

"Well," said the Sergeant drily, "it's my duty to make investigations.
Though I didn't think it likely, there might have been a knife cut or a
bullet hole. Now one of you had better bring up the sledge. We can't
break this ground without dynamite, but there are some loose rocks
along the foot of the spur."

The sledge was brought and Clarke gently placed on it, wrapped in his
fur coat, after which they took the traces and started for the ridge,
where they built up a few stones above the hollow in which they laid
him. It was quite dar