would travel fast. Within five hours at the outside he ought
to be back with her father or Beresford. Surely, with Whaley on her
side, she ought to be safe till then.

She caught sight of Onistah again, his eyes level with the
window-sill. He was waiting for instructions.

Jessie gave them to him straight and plain. She spoke to Whaley, but
for the Blackfoot's ear.

"Bring my father here. At once. I want him. Won't you, please?"

Whaley's blank poker stare focused on her. "The last word I had from
Angus McRae was to keep out of your affairs. I can take a hint without
waiting for a church to fall on me. Get some one else to take your
messages."

"If you're going back to town I thought--perhaps--you'd tell him how
much I need him," she pleaded. "Then he'd come--right away."

Onistah's head vanished. He knew what he had to do and no doubt was
already on the trail. Outside it was dark. She could hear the swirling
of the wind and the beat of sleet against the window-pane. A storm was
rising. She prayed it might not be a blizzard. Weather permitting, her
father should be here by eight or nine o'clock.

West, straddling past, snarled at her. "Get Angus McRae outa yore
head. Him an' you's come to the partin' o' the ways. You're travelin'
with me now. Un'erstand?"

His partner, sneering coldly, offered a suggestion. "If you expect
to travel far you'd better get your webs to hitting snow. This girl
wasn't out looking at the traps all by herself. Her trail leads
straight here. Her friends are probably headed this way right now."

"Tha's right." West stopped in his stride. His slow brain stalled.
"What d' you reckon I better do? If there's only one or two we
might--"

"No," vetoed Whaley. "Nothing like that. Your play is to get out. And
keep getting out when they crowd you. No killing."

"Goddlemighty, I'm a wolf, not a rabbit. If they crowd me, I'll sure
pump lead," the desperado growled. Then, "D' you mean light out
to-night?"

"To-night."

"Where'll I go?"

"Porcupine Creek, I'd say. There's an old cabin there Jacques Perritot
used to live in. The snow'll blot out our tracks."

"You goin' too?"

"I'll see you that far," Whaley answered briefly.

"Better bring down the dogs from the coulee, then."

The gambler looked at him with the cool insolence that characterized
him. "When did I hire out as your flunkey, West?"

The outlaw's head was thrust forward and down. He glared at his
partner, who met this ma