r logs, even though he believed them to be upon the bottom
of the river."

"But, in the searching, he may come upon the lodge, and in his rage,
who can tell what he would do?" Bill's eyes narrowed, and he answered
the girl with a smile.

"I will remain, and if Moncrossen comes----"

The girl laid a small hand upon his arm and looked into his eyes.

"I am but a girl and know nothing of logs, but, is it not better that
he return down the river without searching?"

Carmody smiled into the serious dark eyes. "Go on, Jeanne," he said,
"tell us what you would do."

"It is simple--only to build a big fire upon the spot where the logs
were piled, and when Moncrossen finds the ashes he will seek no farther
for his logs."

"Great!" cried Bill, in undisguised admiration and, with the help of
the others, proceeded to carry the plan into effect. All night they
piled fuel upon the fire, and in the morning their efforts were
rewarded by a pile of ashes that would easily be mistaken for the ruins
of the bird's-eye rollway.

With the passing of the long, hot days of summer, Bill Carmody regained
his strength, and yet he lingered in the camp of the Lacombies.

Creed was seen no more upon Blood River, and Bill assumed the
responsibility of guarding the log camp, making for the purpose almost
daily excursions with Jeanne or Jacques.

August mellowed into smoky September--September gave place to the red
and gold of October, and the blood of the forest folk quickened to the
tang of the North.

At the conclusion of one of these tours of inspection, Bill came
suddenly upon the girl standing in awe before the skin of Diablesse,
which remained where he and Fallon had nailed it on the wall of the
bunk-house. Bill carefully removed the nails and laid the dry pelt at
the feet of the girl.

"See," he said, "the skin of the werwolf--it is yours."

"Mine!" she cried, with shining eyes. "You would give me _this_!"

Bill smiled. "Yes, that is all I have, here in the woods. But when I
return I will bring you many things from the land of the white men."

"The robe of Diablesse!" she breathed softly, as she gazed down upon
the peculiar silvery sheen of the great white wolfskin. "I had rather
you gave me this than anything else in the world."

She stopped in sudden confusion.

"And why?" questioned Bill, pleased at her evident delight.

"It is," she hesitated, and a slender hand clutched at her breast. "It
is as you spoke of the hunti