rd a story of a white man traveling
alone through the Lone Lands with a dog-train. He was a giant of a
fellow and surly, the word had gone out. Who he was or where he was
going they did not know, but he seemed to be making for the great
river in the north. That was the sum and substance of what Beresford
learned from them about West by persistent inquiry.

After supper, since it was so bitterly cold outside, the man-hunters
slept in the tepee of the chief. Thirteen Indians too slept there. Two
of them were the head man's wives, six were his children, one was a
grandchild. Who the rest of the party were or what relation they bore
to him, the guests did not learn.

The place was filthy and the air was vile. Before morning both the
young whites regretted they had not taken chances outside.

"Not ever again," Beresford said with frank disgust after they had set
out next day. "I'll starve if I have to. I'll freeze if I must. But,
by Jove! I'll not eat Injun stew or sleep in a pot-pourri of nitchies.
Not good enough."

Tom grinned. "While I was eatin' the stew, I thought I could stand
sleepin' there even if I gagged at the eats, and while I was tryin' to
sleep, I made up my mind if I had to choose one it would be the stew.
Next time we're wrastlin' with a blizzard, we'll know enough to be
thankful for our mercies. We'll be able to figure it might be a lot
worse."

That afternoon they killed a caribou and got much-needed fresh meat
for themselves and the dogs. Unfortunately, while carrying the
hind-quarters to the sled, Beresford slipped and strained a tendon
in the left leg. He did not notice it much at the time, but after an
hour's travel the pain increased. He found it difficult to keep pace
with the dogs.

They were traversing a ten-mile lake. Morse proposed that they camp as
soon as they reached the edge of it.

"Better get on the sled and ride till then," he added.

Beresford shook his head. "No, I'll carry on all right. Got to grin
and bear it. The sled's overloaded anyhow. You trot along and I'll
tag. Time you've got the fires built and all the work done, I'll loaf
into camp."

Tom made no further protest. "All right. Take it easy. I'll unload and
run back for you."

The Montanan found a good camp-site, dumped the supplies, and left
Cuffy as a guard. With the other dogs he drove back and met the
officer. Beresford was still limping doggedly forward. Every step sent
a shoot of pain through him, but he set