stood irresolute, evidently much perturbed, for
several minutes. Finally, heaving a great sigh, he set forth in the
direction indicated by the arrow.

He was a gigantic man, and presented a strange spectacle as he strode
swiftly across the country with the long, sliding gait of a practised
snowshoer. Although his wide-set blue eyes were frank and gentle in
expression, a heavy mass of blonde hair, streaming over his shoulders
like a mane, and a shaggy beard, gave him an air of lion-like ferocity.
This wildness of aspect, as well as his huge proportions, were both
increased by his garments, which were entirely of wolf skins. Even his
cap was of this material, ornamented by a wolf's tail that streamed out
behind and adorned in front with a pair of wolf ears pricked sharply
forward. He carried a rifle and bore on his shoulders, as though it
were a feather weight, a pack of such size than an ordinarily strong
man would have found difficulty in lifting it.

As this remarkable stranger, looking more like a Norse war god than a
mere human being, reached one signal after another, he passed it
without pausing for examination until he had gained a point about half
way to the coast. Then he came to an abrupt halt and studied the
surrounding snow intently. He had run across the trail made by Arsenic
and his fellows a few hours earlier. After an examination of the
sprawling footprints, the big man uttered a peculiar snort of
satisfaction, and again pushed on with increased speed. An hour later
he stood, concealed by darkness, on the verge of the cliffs enclosing
Locked Harbour, gazing interestedly down on the fire-lit beach, the
half-revealed schooner, the feasting savages, and the recumbent, dimly
discerned figure of Cabot Grant, their prisoner.

CHAPTER XX.

COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF.

Once Arsenic went to where Cabot was lying, and, grinning cheerfully,
remarked: "Tea, shug. Plenty, yes." Then he laughed immoderately, as
did several other Indians who were listening admiringly to this flight
of eloquence in the white man's own tongue.

"Oh, clear out, you grinning baboon," growled Cabot. "I only hope I'll
live to get even with you for this day's work."

The Indians were evidently so pleased at having drawn a retort from
their prisoner that he declined to gratify them further, or to speak
another word, though for some time Arsenic continued to beguile him
with his tiresome "Tea, shug," etc. When the latter fi