Part 35 (1/2)

”She's gone,” he called out.

”Probably in the woods back here--rabbit-shooting likely. She can't have gone far without snowshoes,” Whaley said.

The big man picked up the ski Jessie had made. ”Looky here.”

Whaley examined it. ”She might have made a pair of 'em and got away.

Hope so.”

The yellow teeth of the convict showed in a snarl. ”Think I don't see yore game? Playin' up to McRae an' the red-coats. I wouldn't put it by you to sell me out.”

The gambler's ice-cold eyes bored into West. Was it to be now?

West was not quite ready. His hands were cold and stiff. Besides, the other was on guard and the fugitive was not looking for an even break.

”Oh, well, no use rowin' about that. I ain't gonna chew the rag with you. It'll be you one way an' me another pretty soon,” he continued, s.h.i.+fty eyes dodging.

”About the girl--easy to find out, I say. She sure didn't fly away.

Must 'a' left tracks. We'll take a look-see.”

Again Whaley waited deferentially, with a sardonic and mirthless grin, to let the other pa.s.s first. There were many tracks close to the cabin where they themselves, as well as the girl, had moved to and fro.

Their roving glances went farther afield.

Plain as the swirling waters in the wake of a boat stretched the tracks of a snowsh.o.e.r across the lower end of the lake.

They pushed across to examine them closer, following them a dozen yards to the edge of the ice-field. The sign written there on that white page told a tale to both of the observers, but it said more to one than to the other.

”Some one's been here,” West cried with a startled oath.

”Yes,” agreed Whaley. He did not intend to give any unnecessary information.

”An' lit out again. Must 'a' gone to git help for the girl.”

”Yes,” a.s.sented the gambler, and meant ”No.”

What he read from the writing on the snow was this: Some one had come and some one had gone. But the one who had come was not the one who had gone. An Indian had made the first tracks. He could tell it by the shape of the webs and by the way the traveler had toed in. The outward-bound trail was different. Some one lighter of build was wearing the snowshoes, some one who took shorter steps and toed out.

”See. She run out to meet him. Here's where her feet kept sinkin' in,”

West said.

The other nodded. Yes, she had hurried to meet him but that was not all he saw. There was the impression of a knee in the snow. It was an easy guess that the man had knelt to take off the shoes and adjust them to the girl's feet.

”An' here's where she cut off into the woods,” the convict went on.

”She's hidin' up there now. I'm hittin' the trail after her hot-foot.”

Whaley's derisive smile vanished almost before it appeared. What he knew was his own business. If West wanted to take a walk in the woods, it was not necessary to tell him that a man was waiting for him there behind some tree.

”Think I'll follow this fellow,” Whaley said, with a lift of the hand toward the tracks that led across the lake. ”We've got to find out where he went. If the Mounted are hot on our trail, we want to know it.”

”Sure.” West a.s.sented craftily, eyes narrowed to conceal the thoughts that crawled through his murderous brain. ”We gotta know that.”