"But I thought--I thought----"

"I was afraid you might think so," he replied in answer to her unspoken
thought. "But that could not be helped. I followed after you as fast as
I could, and I was at your heels when your captors were shot down on
the lake and the snow came on."

"Oh, how glad I am that you are alive! That you have found me."

She rested against him well-content, and Stane's arm about her
tightened its grip; then they came back to the little world about them,
at the sound of the policeman's voice.

"Didn't know me, Ainley? I dare say not. I'm not quite the tailor's
mannikin that I was in the old days at the 'Varsity. Got a man's job
now, you see. And that reminds me, I'm here on duty. I happened to be
up the Little Moose when that shooting took place this morning. There's
a couple of dead Indians up there, and as I guess you had something to
do with their sudden deaths I shall have to call on you for an
explanation you know."

Ainley looked at the policeman without fear, and then for a moment his
eyes turned and rested on Helen and Stane standing together in the
shadow of a great fir-tree. It must have been a moment of exceeding
bitterness to him, but beyond a short, abrupt laugh he gave no sign of
his feelings. He turned again to the policeman. Apparently he was
perfectly cool and self-possessed. He waved a hand towards the fire.

"May as well make ourselves comfortable. It's rather a long story I
have to tell. Where are your dogs?"

"Back in the wood--anchored. I'll slip back and fetch them."

"No," said Stane, "I will go back for them."

He turned, and Helen turned with him.

"You don't mind," she whispered.

"Mind!"

She walked by his side, a hand on his arm. Once when they were well in
the shadows of the wood they stopped, and with his arm about her he
kissed her.

"My dear!" he whispered, "my dear."

Helen said nothing immediately, but gave a little sobbing laugh of
gladness. Then after a moment she asked, "How did you escape? How did
you find me?"

"It is too long a story to tell you the whole of it just now. But right
in the nick of time, when I was expecting to die, the owner of our
cabin, Jean Benard came back. He saved my life; but as he knew nothing
about you, the attackers got away with you, but as soon as he heard my
story he got ready to pursue, and having found out that your kidnappers
were making for the Little Moose we took a short cut and waited for
you. We were at y