wall. In a flash he realized what had happened. Deane and Isobel had
descended upon a "snow trap," and it had given way under their weight,
plunging them to the rocks below. For no longer than a breath he stood
still, and in that moment there came a sound from far behind that sent
a strange thrill through him. It was the howl of a dog. Bucky and his
men were in close pursuit, and they were traveling with the team.

He swung a little to the left to escape the edge of the trap and
plunged recklessly to the bottom. Not until he saw where Scottie Deane
and the team had dragged themselves from the snow avalanche did he
breathe freely again. Isobel was safe! He laughed in his joy and wiped
the nervous sweat from his face as he saw the prints of her moccasins
where Deane had righted the sledge. And then, for the first time, he
observed a number of small red stains on the snow. Either Isobel or
Deane had been injured in the fall, perhaps slightly. A hundred yards
from the "trap" the sledge had stopped again, and from this point it
was Deane who rode and Isobel who walked!

He followed more cautiously now. Another hundred yards and he stopped
to sniff the air. Ahead of him the spruce and balsam grew close and
thick, and from that shelter he was sure that something was coming to
him on the air. At first he thought it was the odor of the balsam. A
moment later he knew that it was smoke.

Force of habit brought his hand for the twentieth time to his empty
pistol holster. Its emptiness added to the caution with which he
approached the thick spruce and balsam ahead of him. Taking advantage
of a mass of low snow-laden bushes, he swung out at a right angle to
the trail and began making a wide circle. He worked swiftly. Within
half or three-quarters of an hour Bucky would reach the ridge.