d the Superintendent, Inspector Dickson and Jerry trotted along
freely enough in the face of a keen southwester that cut to the bone.
It was surely some desperate business indeed that sent them out into
the face of that cutting wind which made even these hardy riders, burned
hard and dry by scorching suns and biting blizzards, wince and shelter
their faces with their gauntleted hands.

"Deuce of a wind, this!" said the Superintendent.

"It is the raw southwester that gets to the bone," replied Inspector
Dickson. "This will blow up a chinook before night."

"I wonder if he has got into shelter," said the Superintendent. "This
has been an unusually hard fortnight, and I am afraid he went rather
light."

"Oh, he's sure to be all right," replied the Inspector quickly. "He was
riding, but he took his snowshoes with him for timber work. He's hardly
the man to get caught and he won't quit easily."

"No, he won't quit, but there are times when human endurance fails. Not
that I fear anything like that for Cameron," added the Superintendent
hastily.

"Oh, he's not the man to fall down," replied the Inspector. "He goes the
limit, but he keeps his head. He's no reckless fool."

"Well, you ought to know him," said the Superintendent. "You have been
through some things together, but this last week has been about the
worst that I have known. This fortnight will be remembered in the annals
of this country. And it came so unexpectedly. What do you think about
it, Jerry?" continued the Superintendent, turning to the half-breed.

"He good man--cold ver' bad--ver' long. S'pose catch heem on
plains--ver' bad."

The Inspector touched his horse to a canter. The vision that floated
before his mind's eye while the half-breed was speaking he hated to
contemplate.

"He's all right. He has come through too many tight places to fail
here," said the Inspector in a tone almost of defiance, and refused to
talk further upon the subject. But he kept urging the pace till they
drew up at the stables of the Big Horn Ranch.

The Inspector's first glance upon opening the stable door swept the
stall where Ginger was wont to conduct his melancholy ruminations. It
gave him a start to see the stall empty.

"Hello, Smith!" he cried as that individual appeared with a bundle of
hay from the stack in the yard outside. "Boss home?"

"Has Mr. Cameron returned?" inquired the Superintendent in the same
breath, and in spite of himself a note of anxiety ha