es into their blankets, composed
themselves to sleep.

The lean figure sat silently blinking at the red sides of the
fire-box. His legs were crossed, and he nursed his knee in a restful
embrace. For nearly an hour he sat thus, and only the slow movement of
his great rolling eyes, and an occasional inclination of his head told
of the active thought which was passing behind his mask-like
features.

As he sat there he looked older by half a score of years than either
of his companions, but, in reality, he was a young man. The furrows
and hollows upon his face were the marks of privation and exposure,
not of age. His bowed figure was not the result of weakness or
senility, it was chiefly the result of great height and the slouching
gait of one who has done much slow tramping. Mr. Zachary Smith made an
interesting study as he sat silently beside his stove.

His face was the face of an honest man--when his eyes were concealed
beneath their heavy lids. It was a good face, and refined; tough,
vigorous, honest, until the eyelids were raised. Then the expression
was utterly changed. A something looked out from those great rolling
eyeballs which was furtive, watchful, doubtful. They were eyes one
sometimes sees in a madman or a great criminal. And now, as he sat
absorbed in his own reflections, their gaze alternated between the two
brass-bound chests and the recumbent figure of Leslie Grey.

So he sat, this self-styled Zachary Smith, trapper.

CHAPTER III

MR. ZACHARY SMITH SMOKES

It was the third morning of the travellers' sojourn in Mr. Smith's
dugout. Two long idle days had been spent in the foetid atmosphere of
the trapper's half-buried house. During their enforced stay neither
Grey nor his subordinates had learnt much of their reticent host. It
is doubtful if they had troubled themselves much about him. He had
greeted them with a sort of indifferent hospitality, and they were
satisfied. It was not in the nature of their work to question the
characters of those whom they encountered upon their journey. To all
that he had Mr. Zachary Smith had made them welcome; they could expect
no more, they needed no more. Now the day had arrived for their
departure, for the storm had subsided and the sun was shining with all
its wintry splendour.

The three men leisurely devoured an early morning breakfast.

Mr. Smith was quite cheerful. He seemed to be labouring under some
strange excitement. He looked better, too, sin