"Stormont," he said, "you look as if you had been up against it hard."

Stormont lifted his head and Thirlwell thought his eyes got like a
wolf's.

"I'm starving! No food the last two days."

"Not much before!" one of the rest remarked.

"Been on mighty short rations since we hit the backtrail. Had a tough
job to make it; had to leave our blankets and truck."

"We can give you a meal and a place to sleep. But where have you been?"

"Up north," another answered vaguely, and Scott, recognizing his
caution, smiled as he turned to the last of the party, who stood near
the door.

"You look fresher than the others, Steve. However, you're used to the
country and I expect you brought your partners down."

"That's so," Driscoll growled. "Didn't think they'd make it. They're a
tender-footed crowd!"

In the meantime, Thirlwell studied the fellow. Driscoll was wet and
ragged; his face was thin, but inscrutably sullen. Unlike the rest, he
did not look overcome by fatigue. When Scott spoke he gave him a dull
glance and then fixed his eyes on the floor. Thirlwell had noted
something unusual in his comrade's manner. Scott's voice had an ironical