on its right hindquarters. Haven't you seen such an
one go by within the last twenty-four hours?"

Granger shook his head; "Perhaps you've passed him on the way," he
suggested; "if he knew that you were following him, he may have dodged
you purposely and doubled back."

"He knew all right; it was because he knew that I was following that
he fled. I can hardly have passed him, for he was seen by a half-breed
ten miles from God's Voice, and I've travelled slowly and kept a
careful watch between there and here. Besides I tracked his trail to
within an hour's journey of the Point, until the snow came down and
obliterated it. He was going weakly at the last; both man and dogs
must have been spent."

"Then he must be somewhere to the westward, between the spot where you
lost his trail and here."

"Perhaps, but the argument against that is that his trail was at least
twelve hours old. Anyhow, I shall have to wait until this blizzard is
over. During that time he may struggle in from the west, or, if he has
gone by, may be driven back here for shelter by the gale."

Granger had not thought of that contingency, that Spurling might be
driven back by the weather, might push open the door at any moment and
give him the lie before Strangeways. Perhaps a look of fear passed
across his face, which betrayed him. At any rate, the next thing he
heard was Strangeways, saying to him in a careless voice, "Of course,
between gentlemen it is scarcely necessary to ask you whether you are
telling the truth!"

"It is scarcely necessary."

"Then I beg your pardon for asking."

"You needn't. You've got to do your duty irrespective of caste;
whatever I once was, you can see for yourself what I am."

"Yes, a gentleman down on his luck; but still a gentleman. Strange how
one gets knocked about by life, isn't it? I little thought when I
caught a glimpse of you, leaning on your oar exhausted at the end of
that race, that the next time we should meet would be up here. It's
curious the things a fellow remembers. Our boats were alongside, just
off the Merton barge; the first thing I saw when I recovered and sat
up on my slide was your face, deadly pale, almost within hand-stretch.
I don't recall ever to have seen you again until I struck that match
an hour ago and held it to you, and you opened your eyes; then it all
came back. When you were sleeping you looked haggard, just about the
same as you did then. If I'd seen you awake, I don't suppose