ne."

Even the laconic Jake appeared relieved when they forced their way a
little farther through the tangled undergrowth, until finding a clear
space they set up the tent.

CHAPTER III

THE CACHE

They spent the greater part of a week on the portage, crossing here and
there a little lake; and then came out one evening on a river that
flowed, green and tranquil, beneath a ridge of hills. Here they camped;
and on rising with a shiver in the raw and nipping dawn the next morning,
Nasmyth found Lisle busy at the fire. Jake was cutting wood some distance
off, for the thud of his ax rang sharply through the stillness.

"I was awake--thinking--a good deal last night; in fact, I've been
restless ever since we struck the Gladwynes' trail," Nasmyth began. "Now,
I understand that an uninterrupted journey of about sixteen days would
take us well on our way toward civilization. You say you apprehend no
difficulty after that?"

"No." Lisle waited, watching his companion in an intent fashion.

Nasmyth hesitated.

"Then, considering everything, mightn't it be better to waste no time,
and push straight on?"

"And leave the work that brought me here--I believe that brought us both
here--undone?"

"You'll forgive me if I don't express myself very fortunately. What I
feel is this--Gladwyne's story is a tragic one, but it's twelve months
old. In a way, it's forgotten; the wounds it made have healed."

"Is such a man as the one you have described forgotten in a year?" Lisle
asked with a hardening expression.

Nasmyth, being a man of simple and, for the most part, wholesome ideas,
was in a quandary. His feelings were generous, but he shrank from putting
them into words. Moreover he was just and was not wholly convinced that
the course he wished to recommend was right.

"Well," he contended, "there are faithful hearts that never quite
forget--with them the scar remains; but it's fortunate that the first
keen pain does not last. Is it decent--I almost think that's the right
word--to reopen the wound?"

He paused and spread out one hand as if in expostulation.

"Your late comrade has gone beyond your help; you told me he had left no
relatives; and you have only yourself to consider. Can you do any good by
bringing this sorrowful tale of disaster up again?"

"Are you pleading for your English friends, anxious to save them pain at
my expense? Can't you understand my longing to clear my dead partner's
name?"

A trace