lacing of the snowshoes, for the dogs were running silently, and
Miles, saving his breath for the work of getting along, was
controlling them merely by dumb show, flourishing the whip to hold
them back when they took on a spurt, or beckoning them along when
they showed signs of lagging. They were less than a mile from
home, and going well, when suddenly a hideous uproar broke out near
at hand--the long-drawn howling of wolves, human shouts and cries,
and the crack of a revolver.




CHAPTER IV

A Night of Rough Work

"Phil, where is Katherine?" asked Mrs. Burton, coming out of her
father's room about half an hour after the two had started to bring
home the stores.

"She has gone to help Miles to do some work outside, though what it
can be I'm sure I don't know," grumbled Phil, who was sleepy and
wanted to get to bed. He had washed the supper things after a
fashion, had cleared up the kitchen for the night, according to his
own ideas of tidiness, and now was sitting in the rocking-chair by
the stove, trying very hard to keep his eyes open.

"Oh dear, how unwise of her!" exclaimed Mrs. Burton in a plaintive
tone. "I am always so afraid for her to go outside at night when
it is freezing so sharply, for her face would be quite spoiled if