the trapper's face. Suddenly Benard spoke.

"But, m'sieu, I do not understand eet. You haf no quarrel with zee
tribe?"

"None," answered Stane, and then told him the facts communicated to him
by Miskodeed.

"Ah! then, m'sieu, dere ees a white man at zee back of things. Dat
Chigmok, he ees no good, he what you call a rotter, but he not dare to
do this ting heemself."

"That is how I feel," answered Stane. "But how we are to get at the
truth of the matter, I do not know."

"We weel go to zee encampment. We weel mak' Chief George tell zee
truth."

"If we can!" commented Stane dubiously.

"As you say, eef we can. But somethings we shall learn, m'sieu, dat ees
certain."

"I hope so, Jean."

An hour afterwards they started, following the trail up the lake left
by the fugitives, a broadly marked trail, which revealed that a sledge
had been used, for there were the marks of the runners both coming and
going. As they started, the trapper pointed this out.

"You see, m'sieu, dey come prepared. Dey know dat your Helen she weel
not walk; therefore dey bring zee sled, an' lash her thereto."

"Yes! That seems likely," agreed Stane, his heart aflame with wrath at
the thought of the possible indignities to which the girl might have
been subjected. In silence they travelled up the lake, and after a time
reached the place where the moose-hide tepees lifted their shadowy
forms against the background of snow and trees. The camp was dark and
silent as a place of the dead. For a moment the thought that the whole
tribe had moved away, deserting their tents, held Stane's mind; but it
was dispelled by the whisper of Jean Benard.

"Do you stay here with zee dogs, m'sieu, whilst I go drag out Chief
George. Have zee rifle ready; an' eef dere is trouble, be prompt at zee
shootin'. Vous comprenez?"

"Yes," answered Stane, "if there is trouble I will not hesitate."

He stood with the rifle ready, watching Benard's progress across the
snow. He saw him reach the chief's tepee, and throw open the moose-hide
flap, then disappear inside. He waited for what seemed an intolerable
time, and once heard a rustle from the nearest tepee, and divined that
in spite of the stillness of the camp, quick eyes were watching the
doings of his companion and himself. Then he caught a coughing grunt,
and out of the tepee which the trapper had entered, emerged two forms,
the first bent and shambling, the other that of Jean Benard. They
picked their way,