iscovered that the snow was speckled
with dots of black, and, stooping down, discerned that they were drops
of blood. Some of the blood-marks were fresh; the tracks themselves
had been made, perhaps, within the last three hours. Spurling must
have met with an accident, and, returning to the Point for help, had
seen the stranger's dogs and sledge, and turning northwards again had
fled. So thought Granger.

Strangeways, in the meanwhile, was examining the feet of his leader.
Presently he stood erect, and asked in a low voice, "Did you do
that?"

"What?"

"Look for yourself."

Granger looked, and saw that the balls of the leader's forefeet had
been gashed several times with a knife.

"How should I have done it?" he replied. "I've been in your company
every minute since you arrived."

"Who did it, then?"

"You know as well as I."

"And what do you think of a man who could do that?"

"That he was very desperate."

"I should call him a Gadarene swine."

Strangeways stood in angry thought for a few seconds; then he jerked
up his head, and asked, "Can you lend me another team of huskies? Be
careful when you answer that you tell me the truth this time."

Granger smiled at the childishness of such threatening.

"You will gain nothing by speaking like that," he said. "Unfortunately
for you, unlike Spurling, I am not afraid of death--I should welcome
it. Yet, while I live, I am curious; therefore I will promise you help
on one condition, that you tell me who has been murdered, and where."

Strangeways lifted his eyes and surveyed Granger, asking himself, "And
is this statement also a lie?" But, when he spoke there were the
beginnings of a new respect in his voice. "So you are not afraid of
death?" he said. "Well, then, I owe you an apology for what I have
called you, for I am; I am horribly afraid. I am afraid that I shall
die before I have avenged this death."

"Tell me, who was it that was killed?" cried Granger, impatiently.
"Was it a girl? There was a girl whom I loved in the Klondike; you
don't know how you make me suffer."

"Don't I?" replied Strangeways, grimly; and then with affected
indifference, "There are a good many girls in the Klondike; the body
of this one was found washed ashore near Forty-Mile."

"What's her name?"

"That's what I'm here to find out."

"Did Spurling know that she was a woman when he shot her?"

"So you know that also--that he shot her? Whether he knew, I don't
care; the