gh table of axe-hewn boards and he placed the envelope
on it, after which he kindled a bit of fire and made himself a cup of
hot tea that comforted him greatly. After this it took but a minute to
bind on his heavy snowshoes again and he rejoined his waiting dogs,
starting off once more in the hard frost, his breath steaming and once
more gathering icicles upon his short and stubby yellow moustache.

It was only in the dusk of the short winter's day that Hugo Ennis
returned to his home, carrying his gun, with Maigan scampering before
him. It was quite dark within the shack and he placed the bag that had
been on his shoulders upon the table of rough planks. After this he
drew off his mitts and unfastened his snowshoes after striking a light
and kindling the oil lamp. Then he pulled a couple of partridges and a
cold-stiffened hare out of the bag, which he then threw carelessly in
a corner. Whether owing to the dampness of melting snow or the
stickiness of fir-balsam on the bottom of the bag, the envelope Stefan
had left for him stuck to it and he never saw the telegram that had
been sent from the far-away city.

CHAPTER III

Out of a Wilderness

A couple of days before Sophy's advertisement appeared in the
_Matrimonial Journal_ a girl rose from her bed in one of the female
wards of the great hospital on the banks of the East River, in New
York. On the day before the visiting physician had stated that she
might be discharged. She was not very strong yet but the hospital
needed every bed badly. Pneumonia and other diseases were rife that
winter.

A kindly nurse carried her little bag for her down the aisle of the
ward and along the wide corridor till they reached the elevator. Madge
Nelson was not yet very steady on her feet; once or twice she stopped
for a moment, leaning against the walls owing to slight attacks of
dizziness. The car shot down to their floor and the girl entered it.

"Good-by and good luck, my dear," said the kindly nurse. "Take good
care of yourself!"

Then she hurried back to the ward, where another suffering woman was
being laid on the bed just vacated.

Madge found herself on the street, carrying the little bag which, in
spite of its light weight, was a heavy burden for her. The air was
cold and a slight drizzle had followed the snow. The chilly dampness
made her teeth chatter. Twice she had to hold on to the iron rails
outside the gates of the hospital, for a moment's rest. After thi