ry sound of
the woodpecker's beak against the bole of a tree, the rustle of the
leaves as a wood-hen ran past--a waiting, virgin world.

Its beauty and its wonderful dignity had no appeal to Buckmaster. His
eyes and mind were fixed on a deed which would stain the virgin wild
with the ancient crime that sent the first marauder on human life into
the wilderness.

As Buckmaster's figure darkened the doorway Sinnet seemed to waken as
from a dream, and he got swiftly to his feet.

"Wait--you wait, Buck. You've got to hear all. You haven't heard my
story yet. Wait, I tell you." His voice was so sharp and insistent, so
changed, that Buckmaster turned from the doorway and came back into the
room.

"What's the use of my hearin'? You want me not to kill Greevy, because
of that gal. What's she to me?"

"Nothing to you, Buck, but Clint was everything to her."

The mountaineer stood like one petrified.

"What's that--what's that you say? It's a damn lie!"

"It wasn't cards--the quarrel, not the real quarrel. Greevy found Clint
kissing her. Greevy wanted her to marry Gatineau, the lumber-king. That
was the quarrel."

A snarl was on the face of Buckmaster. "Then she'll not be sorry when
I git him. It took Clint from her as well as from me." He turned to
the door again. "But, wait, Buck, wait one minute and hear--" He was
interrupted by a low, exultant growl, and he saw Buckmaster's rifle
clutched as a hunter, stooping, clutches his gun to fire on his prey.

"Quick, the spy-glass!" he flung back at Sinnet. "It's him--but I'll
make sure."

Sinnet caught the telescope from the nails where it hung, and looked out
towards Juniper Bend. "It's Greevy--and his girl, and the half-breeds,"
he said, with a note in his voice that almost seemed agitation, and yet
few had ever seen Sinnet agitated. "Em'ly must have gone up the trail in
the night."

"It's my turn now," the mountaineer said hoarsely, and, stooping, slid
away quickly into the undergrowth. Sinnet followed, keeping near him,
neither speaking. For a half mile they hastened on, and now and then
Buckmaster drew aside the bushes, and looked up the valley, to keep
Greevy and his bois brulees in his eye. Just so had he and his son and
Sinnet stalked the wapiti and the red deer along these mountains; but
this was a man that Buckmaster was stalking now, with none of the joy
of the sport which had been his since a lad; only the malice of the
avenger. The lust of a mountain feud w