ear at supper. If that is so, I will remain with her. But we
will be together to-morrow. All day. Is that not recompense?"

She smiled up into his face as they followed Adare and his wife.

"You may help Metoosin with the dogs," she suggested. "I want you to be
good friends--you and my beasts."

The hours that followed proved to be more than empty ones for Philip.
Twice he went to the big room and found that Adare himself had yielded
to the exhaustion of the long trip up from civilization, and was
asleep. He accompanied Metoosin to the pit and assisted in chaining the
dogs, but Metoosin was taciturn and uncommunicative. Josephine and her
mother send down their excuses at supper time, and he sat down alone
with Adare, who was delighted when he received word that they had been
sleeping most of the afternoon, and would join them a little later. His
face clouded, however, when he spoke of Jean.

"It is unusual," he said. "Jean is very careful to leave word of his
movements. Metoosin says it is possible he went after fresh caribou
meat. But that is not so. His rifle is in his room. He left during the
night, or he would have spoken to us. I saw him as late as midnight,
and he made no mention of it then. It has been snowing for two or three
hours or I would send Metoosin on his trail."

"What possible cause for worry can you have?" asked Philip.

"Thoreau's cutthroats," replied Adare, a sudden fire in his eyes. "This
winter may see--things happen. The force behind Thoreau's success in
trade is whisky. That damnable stuff is his lure, or all the fur in
this country would come to Adare House. If he could drive me out he
would have nothing to fight against--his hands would be at the throat
of every living soul in these regions, and all through whisky. Among
those who were killed or turned up missing last winter were four of my
best hunters. Twice Jean was shot at on the trail. I fear for him
because he is my right arm."

When Philip left Adare he went to his room, put on heavier moccasins,
and went quietly from the house. Three inches of fresh snow had fallen,
and the air was thick with the white deluge. He hurried into the edge
of the forest. A few minutes futile searching convinced him of the
impossibility of following the trail made by Jean and the man he had
pursued. Through the thickening darkness he returned to Adare House.

Again he changed his moccasins, and waited for the expected word from
Josephine or Adare. Ha