thinking as he had never thought
before. His business was forgotten, and several times he remembered
the sick man lying in the bunk at Camp Number Two. And all this time
the sun sank lower to rest, and long shadows stole among the great
trees like fearful monsters creeping upon him. He became cold, too,
and his body shivered, while his teeth chattered incessantly.

When it seemed to him that he had lain there on the snow for hours, he
heard a noise, and looking along the trail he saw a little red dog
bounding straight toward him. How often had he spurned just such a cur
with his foot, on the city streets, but never did any creature seem so
good to Sinclair as did that lean canine specimen before him.

"Good doggie," he called. "Come here, doggie."

But the animal remained at a safe distance, barking furiously, at the
same time casting glances back along the trail as if expecting some one
from that quarter. Soon a sturdy figure appeared in sight with a
rabbit over his shoulder. He stopped in amazement at the scene before
him, unable to comprehend its meaning.

"Come here, sonny," Sinclair called out, fearing the boy would take
fright and disappear.

But the lad stood perfectly still as if turned to stone.

"For heaven's sake!" Sinclair continued, "come and help a poor stricken
man who can't walk."

At this appeal the boy drew nearer, and seeing that it was only a man
lying in the snow, the startled expression faded from his face.

"What's the matter, and watcher want?" he asked.

"I've sprained my ankle and can't walk," was the reply. "Is there any
house near? Can't you bring some one to help me?"

At this the lad became electrified into new life. His senses returned,
and he grasped the situation in an instant.

"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed. "Mighty lucky I came to my rabbit snares
to-night instead of t'morrer. Y'see, that's Christmas Day, and we
don't do no work then."

"Lucky for me you came to-night, my boy," Sinclair replied, and then he
remembered how he had denounced the day but a short time before. "But
I can't stay in this place all night. Can't you get somebody to help
me?"

"Y'bet," the boy responded. "Buck and Bright'll help y'outer this fix.
Jes' wait a minute."

At this he hurried away, and although he was gone not much over half an
hour it seemed to Sinclair like an age before "Haw, Buck! G'up,
Bright! Git up thar!" sounded upon his ears.

Presently he beheld the forms of two