se?"

His final inquiry was his method of dismissing his employer. But Kars
did not respond. His keen eyes had been searching the crowd. Now they
came back to the plain face of Abe, whose jaws were working busily on
the wreck of the end of a cigar. He lowered his voice to a
confidential tone.

"There's a big outfit of stuff aboard for Murray McTavish, of Fort
Mowbray. Has he an outfit here to haul it? Is he still around Leaping
Horse?"

Abe's eyes widened. He was quite unconcerned at the change of tone.

"Why, yes," he replied promptly. "Sure he's an outfit here. He's
shipping it up to Leaping Horse by the Yukon Transport--express. He
quit the city last November, an' come along down again a week ago.
Guess he's in the city right now. He's stopping around Adler's Hotel."

Kars' eyes were on the "hauls" of the cargo boat which were already
busy.

"You boys kept to instructions?" he demanded sharply. "No one's wise
to your camp?"

"Not a thing."

"There's not a word of me going around the city?"

"Not a word."

"The outfit's complete?"

"Sure. To the last boy. You can break camp the day after this stuff's
hauled and we've packed it."

"Good." Kars sighed as if in relief. "Well, I'll get on. Hustle all
you know. And, say, get a tally of McTavish's outfit. Get their time
schedule. I'll need it. So long."

Kars followed his personal baggage which a quayside porter had taken on
to the grandiosely named mail train.

John Kars was standing at the curtained window of Dr. Bill's apartment
in the Hoffman Apartment House. His back was turned on the luxuriously
furnished room. For some time the silence had been broken only by the
level tones of the owner of the apartment who was lounging in the
depths of a big rocker adjacent to a table laden with surgical
instruments. He had been telling the detailed story of the
preparations made at the camp some ten miles distant from the city, and
the supervision of whose affairs Kars had left in his hands. As he
ceased speaking Kars turned from his contemplation of the tawdry white
and gold of the Elysian Fields which stood out in full view from the
window of the apartment.

"Now tell me of that boy--Alec," he demanded.

The directness of the challenge had its effect. Bill Brudenell stirred
uneasily in his chair. His shrewd eyes widened with a shade of
trouble. Nor did he answer readily.

"Things are wrong?" Kars' steady eyes searched his fr