s now and then took the place of
the keen and clear atmosphere. The evenings had grown so cool that
considerable attention was being given the fire in the living room.

On an evening such as this, while Colonel Howell and his young assistants
stood on the riverbank, watching the red sun turn to silver gray, Colonel
Howell exclaimed:

"By our calendar, the fall's coming along a little early. And judging by
the trees over there and the nip in the air, we're going to have some
weather before long. Maybe not for several days, but it's on its way.
Before it gets here, why not make another trip to the Landing and see if
there's anything at the post office?"

"All letters ready at five in the morning," announced Norman impulsively.
"Mail for Athabasca Landing, Edmonton, Calgary and points south leaves at
that time."

"Better bring a little more beef this time," suggested the colonel with a
laugh, "and anything else that looks tasty and you've got room for."

"I guess I've had all that's coming to me," suggested Paul. "Don't think
I'm afraid. Whenever you want a helper," he went on, addressing Norman,
"don't fail to call on me."

"I guess we won't make many more trips this season!" put in Roy, but in
that he was mistaken. The trip made the next day was memorable, but two
more that were to be made later were more than that, and the last one was
certainly ample justification for Colonel Howell's daring introduction of
the monoplane into these silent places of the North.

Shortly before five o'clock the next morning, in spite of an ominous gray
sky and a new sound of the wind in the trees, Norman and Roy were off on
their three hundred mile flight. They planned a short stay at the Landing
and upon reaching camp again before the shortening day was at an end.
They carried in the cockpit their Mackinaw jackets and their winter caps.
Philip also prepared a cold luncheon to be eaten on the return trip, thus
saving time at the Athabasca stop.

Early on their outward flight, for a time the red sun made an effort to
get through the clouds, but after nine o'clock had wholly disappeared and
the temperature began to fall. An almost imperceptible fine dry snow
appeared, but it was not enough to interfere with the conduct of the
machine. When a landing was finally made at the old place in the bend of
the river, although the day was dreary enough, only the chill atmosphere
and a few traces of snow gave premonition of possible storm.