akable. He knew
that time and opportunity must inevitably complete the destiny before
them. Just now it seemed to him that only something in the nature of a
miracle could help him.

Reluctantly enough he led the way up to the grim old Fort. The path
lay through the woods, which only extended to the lower slopes of the
bald knoll upon which it stood. The moonless night made no difference
to him. He could have made the journey blindfolded.

At the summit Murray led the way round to the gateway of the stockade,
and passed within. He was still speculating, as he had speculated the
whole way up, as to the purpose of this visit. He only saw in one
direction, at the moment, and that direction was the girl he desired
for wife. If she were to be the subject of their talk, well, he could
match any words of this man, whom he knew to be his rival.

Inside the room, which served him as an office, Murray lit an oil lamp
on his desk. Then he set a chair for his visitor so that he should
face the light. Kars flung himself into it, while the trader took his
place before the desk, and tilted his swivel chair back at a
comfortable angle, his round smiling face cordially regarding his
companion.

Kars bulked large in the light of the lamp. The chair under him was
completely hidden. He was of very great size and Murray could not help
but admire the muscular body, without a spare ounce of that burden of
fat under which he labored. Then the keen eyes under the strongly
marked brows. The well-shaped nose, so suggestive of the power
expressed in every line of his features. The clean-shaven lips and
chin, almost rugged in their suggestion of purpose. And above all the
curling dark hair, now bared by the removal of his beaver cap.

Kars permitted not a moment's delay in announcing the purpose of his
visit.

"I waited till now to have this talk, Murray, because--why, because I
don't think I could have helped things for you folks waking memories
before. I got to talk about Allan Mowbray, about the Bell River
neches. And I take it you're wisest on both subjects."

His eyes were grave. Nor did Murray fail to observe the sternness
which gravity gave to the rest of his face.

"I've had the story of these things as the trail knows it. An' as the
gossips of Leaping Horse figgered it out. But I don't reckon I need to
tell you Ananias didn't forget to shed his old wardrobe over the north
country gossips when he cashed in. Do