ndependent life of the great
outdoors had given him. He knew the secrets of the wilderness as few men
knew them. He had little doubt that much which had remained obscure to
those already engaged in the search for Tom Gray would be made clear to
him. Alone in the world, Jean had long since come to regard the Eight
Originals as "his folks." Of the four girls, Grace Harlowe had always
been his favorite. Of the four boys, Tom Gray had held first place in
his heart. The young man's frank, delightful personality, coupled with
his intense love of Nature, had served signally to endear him to the old
hunter.

As Jean had reverently assured Grace, it was indeed, to him, a sacred
mission on which he was now setting forth, and he longed impatiently for
the moment to come when he might leave the narrow confines of the
railway train and set foot in the little village nearest to the lumber
camp. Mrs. Gray had insisted on providing him liberally with the funds
she deemed necessary for the continuance of the search. Jean had stoutly
protested against this liberality. Overruled, he had given in somewhat
reluctantly, consoling himself with the thought that when M'sieu' Tom
was found he would give back the greater part of the money which had
been thus thrust upon him. His sturdy soul rose in revolt at the very
idea of tucking himself away in a Pullman berth, even for a night. Such
cubby-holes were not for him, he disdainfully reflected. He preferred to
sit up all night and amuse himself by watching the fleeting, indistinct
landscape through which the train was pursuing its steady run toward the
vast northern region that jealously concealed the mystery of Tom Gray's
fate.

As he had already informed Grace and Mrs. Gray, the territory for which
he was bound was to him a fairly familiar one. True he had not hunted in
it for several years, although once or twice he had skirted it in making
his slow, deliberate marches to and from Canada. He assured himself that
naturally he would discover some changes in the heavy forest growth,
stretching for many miles north and west of the lumber camp for which
Tom Gray had headed. Yet Jean was not in the least dismayed by the
magnitude of his task. More than once he had served as tracer of persons
lost in the trackless wildernesses. More than once he had wandered about
in the dense, pathless forests, a lost man.

While the train sped through the moonless night, Jean's sharp eyes were
trained on the weir