against. On the whole, I
think you have been somewhat rash."

"I guess you're clever enough to see that since I've taken a lot of
chances in coming I'm not likely to be bluffed off now. But we'll let
that go. The most important thing is that Blake will die unless he
gets proper treatment--and gets it mighty soon."

Clarke regarded him with a mocking smile.

"It's a matter of indifference to me whether Blakes dies or not."

"Oh, no!" said Harding. "On the whole, you would rather he did die.
He's in the way."

He could not tell whether this shot had reached the mark, for though
Clarke's eyes were steadily fixed on him the man's face was inscrutable.

"If you're right, it seems strange that you should urge me to prescribe
for him."

"There are precautions I mean to take," Harding informed him dryly.
"However, I haven't come here to argue. For reasons of your own, you
sent us into a belt of country which you thought we couldn't possibly
get through. You expected us to be held up there until our provisions
ran out and winter set in, when these Stonies would no doubt have moved
on. Well, part of what you wished has happened; but the matter is
taking a turn you couldn't have looked for. You led us into
difficulties--and now you're going to get us out. I guess delay means
danger. Get ready to start."

The Indian raised his hand in warning. Footsteps approached the tepee
with something strangely stealthy in their tread, and Clarke, turning
his head, listened with a curious expression. Then he looked at
Harding and as the steps drew nearer the American's lips set tight.
His pose grew tense, but it was more expressive of determination than
alarm. For a few moments none of the party moved and then the attitude
of all relaxed as the footsteps passed and grew indistinct. Clarke
broke into a faint smile.

"That was not an ordinary Stony but a gentleman of my profession, with
similar interests, going about his business. There are reasons why he
should undertake it in the dark. You were right in supposing that you
were in some danger--and the danger isn't over."

Harding felt a shiver. He had the repugnance of the healthy minded man
of affairs from any form of meddling with what he vaguely thought of as
the occult; but in that remote, grim solitude he could not scoff at it.

"Understand this!" he said curtly. "I mean to save my partner; I've
staked my life on doing so. But I've said enough. You're coming