for the sake of greed alone.
Having made gold his hope, having said to the fine gold, "Thou art my
confidence," he had committed an iniquity to be punished by the judge.

Had he suffered all that punishment as yet, or was there worse to
follow? Would the worst that he could expect be death? Once, when he
was poor, he had only feared life; but now, with his treasure beneath
his feet, with the canoe gliding southward on the journey out, there
was added this new terror--the fear of death. He desired most
passionately to live now.

Darkness had fallen and the air was growing colder. Presently, flake
by flake, the first snow of winter drifted down. The two men said
nothing, but they paddled faster, for the chill struck into their
chests through their shirts, making them repent the folly which had
led them to abandon their clothing that more gold might be carried.
Every now and again, Spurling broke out into a fit of coughing and, as
he shivered, the canoe trembled. As for Granger his hands were heavy,
his arms ached, and his fingers were numb; he dimly wondered at his
own perseverance that he still continued to ply his paddle. As the
cold spread through him, his senses took to sleeping. He was aroused
by a sudden jerk and a shout from Spurling, "Curse you. Back water.
Turn her head out into the river."

Looking up, he saw that they had struck the bank and come near
capsizing. And he saw more than that; scarcely two yards away a pair
of glowing eyes shone out at him.

"For the sake of God, make haste," cried Spurling; "the brute's about
to pounce."

With a twist of the paddle he swung the canoe's head round, and with
the help of Spurling drove her out. They were none too early, for,
just behind them, where a moment since the canoe had been hanging,
they heard a splash.

For the rest of the night they kept watch over themselves lest they
slept. Till the dawn broke, whenever they turned their eyes toward the
bank, they could discern the grey streak of the timber-wolf, dodging
in and out between the tree-trunks, keeping pace with them. So long as
they were on the Forbidden River they journeyed both day and night,
allowing themselves scant time for rest. If they had been eager to get
there, they were still more anxious to get away. When in the middle of
the third night they swung out into the Last Chance, they stopped and
looked back. The moon was shining; sitting squarely on its haunches
they could see the timber-wolf,