ridge. I'll take your guns, old man. It's just possible there may be a
fight!"

He slipped Deane's revolver into his holster and quickly emptied the
chamber of the rifle that stood near.

"Where's mine?" he asked.

"Threw 'em away," said Deane. "Those are the only guns in the outfit."

Billy waited while Isobel Deane came through low-hanging spruce with
the dogs.

VI

THE FIGHT

There was a smile for Deane on Isobel's lips as she struggled through
the spruce, knee-deep in snow, the dogs tugging at the sledge behind
her. And then in a moment she saw MacVeigh, and the smile froze into a
look of horror on her face. She was not twenty feet distant when she
emerged into the little opening, and Billy heard the rattling cry in
her throat. She stopped, and her hands went to her breast. Deane had
half raised himself, his pale, thin face smiling encouragingly at her;
and with a wild cry Isobel rushed to him and flung herself upon her
knees at his side, her hands gripping fiercely at the steel bands
about his wrists. Billy turned away. He could hear her sobbing, and he
could hear the low, comforting voice of the injured man. A groan of
anguish rose to his own lips, and he clenched his hands hard, dreading
the terrible moment when he would have to face the woman he loved