she had marked them, was a tiny seal
in blue wax!

The reason for any seal knocked me utterly, but I couldn't wait to worry
over it. No one else saw it, for I loaded the boxes into my wagon
myself, and there was nobody about to see me off. Dudley was dead to the
world, as I'd known he was getting ready to be for a week past; Marcia,
to her fury, had had to retire to bed with a swelled face; and Macartney
was the only other person who knew my light wagon and pair of horses was
taking our clean-up into Caraquet,--except Paulette Brown!

And there was no sign of her anywhere. I had not expected there would
be, but I was sore all the same. I had helped her out of difficulties
three times, and all I'd got for it was--nothing! I saw Macartney coming
up from the mill, and yelled to him to come and hold my horses, while I
went back to my room for a revolver. This was from sheer habit. The snow
still held off, and before me was nothing more exciting than a cold
drive over a bad road that was frozen hard as a board, a halt at the
Halfway stables to change horses, and perhaps the society of Billy
Jones as far as Caraquet,--if he wanted to go there. The only other
human being I could possibly meet might be some one from Skunk's Misery,
though that was unlikely; the denizens of Skunk's Misery had few errands
that took them out on roads. So I pocketed my gun mechanically. But as I
went out again I stopped short in the shack door.

My dream girl, whom I'd never been alone with for ten minutes, sat in my
wagon, with my reins in her hands. "My soul," I thought, galvanized,
"she can't be--she must be--coming with me to Caraquet!"

CHAPTER V

THE CARAQUET ROAD: AND THE WOLVES HOWL ONCE MORE

Why comest thou to ride with me?
"The road, this night, is dark."
Dost thou and thine then side with me?
"Ride on, ride on and hark!"

_The Night Ride._

There she sat, anyhow, alone except for Macartney, who stood at the
horses' heads. Wherever she was going, I had an idea he was as surprised
about it as I was, and that he had been expostulating with her about her
expedition. But, if he had, he shut up as I appeared. I could only
stammer as I stared at Paulette, "You--you're not coming!"

"I seem to be," she returned placidly. And Macartney gave me the
despairing glance of a sensible man who had tried his best to head off a
girl's silly whim, and failed.

"It's as you like," he said--to her, not to me. "Bu