w when I tell heem about picking heem up from the machine.
He say he know M'sieu Houston is coming by the automobile."

In the other room, Barry Houston blinked rapidly and frowned. He had
written Thayer nothing of the sort. He had-- Suddenly he stared
toward the ceiling in swift-centered thought. Some one else must have
sent the information, some one who wanted Thayer to know that Barry was
on the way, so that there would be no surprise in his coming, some one
who realized that his mission was that of investigation!

The names of two persons flashed across his mind, one to be dismissed
immediately, the other--

"I'll fire Jenkins the minute I get back!" came vindictively. "I'll--."

He choked his words. A query had come from the next room.

"Was that heem talking?"

"No, I don't think so. He groans every once in a while. Wait--I'll
look."

The injured man closed his eyes quickly, as he heard the girl approach
the door, not to open them until she had departed. Barry was thinking
and thinking hard. A moment later--

"How's the patient?" It was a new voice, one which Barry Houston
remembered from years agone, when he, a wide-eyed boy in his father's
care, first had viewed the intricacies of a mountain sawmill, had
wandered about the bunk houses, and ridden the great, skidding bobsleds
with the lumberjacks in the spruce forests, on a never-forgotten trip
of inspection. It was Thayer, the same Thayer that he once had looked
upon with all the enthusiasm and pride of boyhood, but whom he now
viewed with suspicion and distrust. Thayer had brought him out here,
without realizing it. Yet Thayer had known that he was on the way.
And Thayer must be combatted--but how? The voice went on, "Gained
consciousness yet?"

"No." The girl had answered. "That is--"

"Of course, then, he hasn't been able to talk. Pretty sure it's
Houston, though. Went over and took a look at the machine. Colorado
license on it, but the plates look pretty new, and there are fresh
marks on the license holders where others have been taken off recently.
Evidently just bought a Colorado tag, figuring that he'd be out here
for some time. How'd you find him?"

The bass voice of the man referred to as Ba'tiste gave the answer, and
Barry listened with interest. Evidently he had struggled to his feet
at some time during the night--though he could not remember it--and
striven to find his way down the mountain side in the darkness, for