ourse to pursue. Hans's taking the law in his own hands was
no more justifiable than Dennin's deed. Two wrongs did not make a right,
she contended, and there was only one way to punish Dennin, and that was
the legal way arranged by society. At last Hans gave in to her.

"All right," he said. "Have it your own way. And to-morrow or next day
look to see him kill you and me."

She shook her head and held out her hand for the shot-gun. He started to
hand it to her, then hesitated.

"Better let me shoot him," he pleaded.

Again she shook her head, and again he started to pass her the gun, when
the door opened, and an Indian, without knocking, came in. A blast of
wind and flurry of snow came in with him. They turned and faced him,
Hans still holding the shot-gun. The intruder took in the scene without
a quiver. His eyes embraced the dead and wounded in a sweeping glance.
No surprise showed in his face, not even curiosity. Harkey lay at his
feet, but he took no notice of him. So far as he was concerned, Harkey's
body did not exist.

"Much wind," the Indian remarked by way of salutation. "All well? Very
well?"

Hans, still grasping the gun, felt sure that the Indian attributed to him
the mangled corpses. He glanced appealingly at his wife.

"Good morning, Negook," she said, her voice betraying her effort. "No,
not very well. Much trouble."

"Good-by, I go now, much hurry," the Indian said, and without semblance
of haste, with great deliberation stepping clear of a red pool on the
floor, he opened the door and went out.

The man and woman looked at each other.

"He thinks we did it," Hans gasped, "that I did it."

Edith was silent for a space. Then she said, briefly, in a businesslike
way:

"Never mind what he thinks. That will come after. At present we have
two graves to dig. But first of all, we've got to tie up Dennin so he
can't escape."

Hans refused to touch Dennin, but Edith lashed him securely, hand and
foot. Then she and Hans went out into the snow. The ground was frozen.
It was impervious to a blow of the pick. They first gathered wood, then
scraped the snow away and on the frozen surface built a fire. When the
fire had burned for an hour, several inches of dirt had thawed. This
they shovelled out, and then built a fresh fire. Their descent into the
earth progressed at the rate of two or three inches an hour.

It was hard and bitter work. The flurrying snow did not permit th