ught that those he was
looking at had been made since he had last entered the house. This,
however, did not surprise him, for Flett had recently visited the
stable.

On entering the building, George stopped to feel for a lantern which
was kept on a shelf near the door. The place was very dark and
pleasantly warm by contrast with the bitter frost outside, and he could
smell the peppermint in the prairie hay. Familiar sounds reached
him--the soft rattle of a shaking rope, the crackle of crushed
straw--but they were rather more numerous than usual, and while he
listened one or two of the horses began to move restlessly.

The lantern was not to be found; George wondered whether Flett had
carelessly forgotten to replace it. He felt his way from stall to
stall, letting his hand fall on the hind quarters of the horses as he
passed. They were all in their places, including Flett's gray, which
lashed out at him when he touched it; there was nothing to excite
suspicion, but when he reached the end of the row he determined to
strike a match and look for the lantern. He was some time feeling for
the match-box under his furs, and while he did so he heard a soft
rustling in the stall nearest the door. This was curious, for the
stall, being a cold one, was unoccupied, and there was something
significantly stealthy in the sound; but it ceased, and while he
listened with strained attention a horse moved and snorted. Then,
while he fumbled impatiently at a button of his skin coat which would
not come loose, an icy draught stole into the building.

It was obvious that the door was open; he had left it shut.

Breaking off his search for the matches, he made toward the entrance
and sprang out. There was nobody upon the moonlit snow, and the
shadows were hardly deep enough to conceal a lurking man. He ran
toward the end of the rather long building; but, as it happened, he had
to make a round to avoid a stack of wood and a wagon on the way. When
he turned the corner, the other side of the stable was clear in the
moonlight and, so far as he could see, the snow about it was untrodden.
It looked as if he had made for the wrong end of the building, and he
retraced his steps toward a barn that stood near its opposite
extremity. Running around it, he saw nobody, nor any footprints that
seemed to have been recently made; and while he stood wondering what he
should do next, Grierson appeared between him and the house.

"Were you in