t would
have been familiar indeed to Bill. But digging further he found a heavy
bundle, tied with a rope and rattling curiously in his arms.

At Virginia's directions he laid it in the snow and pulled the sled up
where she could open it. Bill stood beside her, not daring to guess the
truth.

"Oh, my darling!" she cried at last, drawing his head down to hers. She
couldn't say more. She could only laugh and sob, alternately, as might
one whose dearest prayers had been granted.

The bundle was full of food,--dried meat and canned goods and a small
sack of flour. They were some of the supplies that to save himself the
work of caring for, the faithless Vosper had discarded when, with Kenly,
he had turned back from the river.

* * * * *

At the end of three bitter days, Bill Bronson stood once more on the
hill that looked down upon the old mining camp. The twilight was
growing in the glen beneath; already it had cast shadows in Virginia's
eyes. She sat beside him on the sled.

It had been cruel hardship, the three days' journey, but they had made
it without mishap. At night they had built great fires at the mouth of
their tent, but they had not escaped the curse of the cold. The days
had been arduous and long. But they had conquered; even now they were
emerging from the dark fringe of the spruce.

Virginia was on the rapid road toward recovery from her wound. It had
not been severe; while she was lying still on the sled it had had every
chance to heal. A few stitches by the doctor in Bradleyburg, a thorough
cleansing and bandaging, and a few more days in bed would avert all
serious consequences. Bill's sight had grown steadily better as the
days had passed; already the Spirits of Mercy had permitted him, at
close range, to behold Virginia's face.

A half-mile back, just before they approached the first fringe of the
spruce forest, they had met a trapper just starting out on his line; and
he had gladly consented to take Harold the rest of the way into town.
It is one of the duties of citizenship in the North, where the
population is so scant and the officers so few, to take an active part
in law enforcement,--and this trapper was glad of the opportunity to
assist them in the care of the prisoner. He was to be lodged in prison
at the little mining camp to face a charge of attempted murder,--a
crime that in the northwest provinces is never regarded lightly.

"And you weren't drowned!" the trapper marvele