it?"

"I don't mind talking about it at all. Why should I, among Peter's
friends? As to facts, we know none ourselves except that he was lost in
the snow. You've no idea of that snow, Thorpe! It was like a thick,
white feather-bed, falling, falling continually. It was impenetrable to
sight or hearing. The wind blew it about some, but it fell so thickly
that it seemed a solid mass that we struggled through. And it was quite
all we could do to get along----"

"Oh, don't think for a minute I feel you were in the least derelict! I
know you weren't. It merely chanced that Peter's heart gave out--or
whatever it was that did happen--while he was the last one of the
procession."

"And not only that. If, say, I'd fallen, a man behind might not have
seen me go down. If we swerved ever so little from a straight line, and,
of course, we did,--couldn't help it,--we lost sight for a moment of the
man in front. And as we all went along, eyes down or closed much of the
time, we might have lost a man who wasn't walking last. I wish I could
make you see it, Mac! See the traveling, I mean. I've never progressed
against such difficulties."

"I know, old chap. Do get out of your head that anybody blames any of
you in the least. And if they did, the blame would fall on the guide,
not on you fellows."

"Joshua was not a bit to blame either. Surely you see that. It was every
man for himself,--and--fate took the hindmost! Oh, I hate to think about
it! It's even worse to me now than when it happened. The more I think
about it the more I grieve for dear old Peter. We were good pals, you
know."

"I know it; we all were. Mighty few chaps like Peter Boots!"

CHAPTER VI

Strange Revelations

"Old man Crane's gone nutty," Shelby remarked.

"Been going for some time," agreed Blair, and McClellan Thorpe nodded
his head decidedly.

The three sat in the studio apartment occupied by Blair and Thorpe, who
had just returned from dining at their club.

Shelby had come home with them, but was soon to leave to keep an
engagement.

"You'll scarcely believe what I'm up to to-night," Shelby went on, "I'm
going to a _seance_ with Mr. Crane."

"I say, Kit," remonstrated Thorpe, "I don't think you ought to encourage
him. He's daft enough on the subject now, and your approval makes him
worse."

"I'm trying to stop him," Shelby said, quietly. "I think if I go to the
fool thing I can see how she works it and tell Mr. Crane, and he'll be
con