ut it?" Blake asked curtly.

Harding laughed. "I believe I know the true one. Haven't I marched
and starved and shared my plans with you? If there had been any
meanness in you wouldn't I have found it out? What's more, Benson
knows what really happened and so does Colonel Challoner. How else
could Clarke have put the screw on him?"

"He doesn't seem to have made much impression; you have heard the
Colonel's answer." Blake frowned. "We'll drop this subject. If
Challoner attached any importance to what you think Clarke told him,
his first step would have been to send for me."

"I expect you'll find a letter waiting for you at Sweetwater," Harding
rejoined.

Blake did not answer, and soon afterwards Sergeant Lane came in with
Walthew.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A MATTER OF DUTY

Sergeant Lane sat by the camp fire in a straggling bluff, a notebook in
his hand, while Emile repacked a quantity of provisions, the weight of
which they had been carefully estimating. The scattered trees were
small and let the cold wind in, for the party had now reached the edge
of the plain where the poplars began to grow. The Sergeant's brows
were knitted, for the calculations he had made were not reassuring.

"The time we lost turning back to the Stony village has made a big hole
in our grub," he said. "Guess we'll have to cut the menoo down and do
a few more miles a day."

"Our party's used to that," Blake answered with a smile. "I suggest
another plan. You have brought us a long way and Sweetwater's a bit
off your line. Suppose you give us food enough to last us on half
rations and let us push on."

"No, sir," said Lane decidedly; "we see this trip through together.
For another thing, the dogs are playing out and after the way they've
served us I want to save them. With your help at the traces we make
better time."

Blake could not deny this. The snow had been in bad condition for the
last week, and the men had relieved each other in hauling the sledge.
The police camp equipment was heavy, but it could not be thrown away,
because they preferred some degree of hunger to lying awake at nights,
half frozen. Moreover, neither Blake nor his comrades desired to leave
their new friends and once more face the rigours of the wilds alone.

"Then we'll have to make the best speed we can," he said.

They talked about the journey still before them for another hour. It
was a clear night and very cold, but with a crescent moon