und of his stertorous
breathing to indicate that he slept.

Black night closed down. The forest cries awoke and their chorus rang
out as the moon mounted in the heavens. The wolfish legions hovered at
the edge of the woods and snuffed hungrily at the air. But the scent of
blood had passed, and they came not too near.

Nick's slumber of exhaustion was haunted by painful, incoherent dreams.
With the curious freakishness of a disordered mind, he was beset by a
vision of the dark, ferret face of Victor Gagnon. The trader seemed to
be hovering threateningly over his rude couch, and, behind him, less
distinct, but always recognizable, was the fair Aim-sa. The whole night
the sleeper was depressed by some dreadful threat which centred about
the vision of these two, and when at length he awoke it was with the
effect of his dreams hard upon him.

The fair fresh daylight was streaming in through the open door. Nick
roused himself. He turned uneasily, shivering with the cold, for he had
slept where he had fallen. Suddenly he sat up. Then with a leap he was
on his feet and wide-awake, and the name of Victor Gagnon fell from his
lips. A frenzied, unreasoning desire to take the trader's life possessed
him.

His body was refreshed and the blank of memory had passed from him. A
gleam of reason shot athwart the racked brain. It was only for an
instant, then it was gone again. But that instant sufficed. He
remembered that Gagnon knew of the treasure, the only person except
himself who knew of it. Victor had robbed him. A wild laughter shook
him. Ay, that was it. Victor was the thief; he should die. After
that--Aim-sa.

His untutored brain had broken under the strain of recent events. Horror
had driven him to the verge of the abyss in the depths of which lurked
insanity; his final loss had plunged him headlong down. He was mad!

CHAPTER XII.

WHERE THE LAWS OF MIGHT ALONE PREVAIL

Two men occupied the back room of Victor Gagnon's store. The proprietor,
small, alert, with eye and brain working swiftly, and an expression on
his dark face indicating the angry nature of his thoughts. He was
sitting with his feet on the stove rail and his hands spread out to the
warmth. The other man was beside the parchment-covered window. He was
immensely tall, and was clad in grey wolfskin from head to foot. His
broad shoulders were broadened by the fur covering till he looked a
giant. He had just thrown back a cavernous hood from his head