toward Bald
Peak and were traveling toward the Yuga, and that they thought the cabin
was unoccupied? He remembered that he had given these particular
Indians definite orders to stay away from the district. Outwardly he
was cool and at ease, his face impassive and grave; in his inner self he
was deeply perturbed and suspicious.

Of course, there was a possibility that he was mistaken in the voice.
He resolved to know the truth.

"It's Joe and Pete, isn't it?" he asked abruptly in the silence.

There was no reply at first. Virginia did not glance around in time to
see the lightning signal of warning from Harold to the Indians; yet she
had an inner sense of drama and suspense.

She had never heard quite this tone in Bill's voice before. It was
hard, uncompromising, some way menacing. "I say," he repeated slowly,
"are you Pete and Joe, or aren't you?"

"Pete--Joe?" Joe answered at last, in a bewildered tune. Harold
himself could not have given a better simulation of amazement. "Don't
know 'em. I'm Wolfpaw Black--he's Jimmy--Jimmy DuBois."

The names were convincing,--typical breed names, the latter with a
touch of French. But Harold's admiration for the resourcefulness of his
confederate really was not justified. Joe hadn't originated the two
names. He had spoken the first two that had come to his mind,--the
names of a pair of worthy breeds from a distant encampment.

Except for a little lingering uneasiness, Bill was satisfied. It would
be easy to mistake the voice. He had heard it only a few times in his
life. Virginia went on with her supper preparations, and at last the
three of them drew chairs around their crude little table. The two
breeds took their lunch from their packs and munched it, sitting beside
the stove.

The night had fallen now, impenetrably dark, and the Northern Lights
were flashing like aerial searchlights in the sky. The five of them
were singularly quiet, deep in their own thoughts. Bill heard his watch
ticking loudly in his pocket.

All at once Joe grunted in the stillness, and all except Bill whirled to
look at him. He went to his pack and fumbled among the blankets. Then,
a greedy light in his eyes, he put two dark bottles upon the table.

Bill, unseeing, did not understand. His finer senses, however, told him
that the air was suddenly electric, charged with suspense. Virginia was
frankly alarmed.

In her past life she had had intimate acquaintance with strong dri