nger still, the man
started at his glance, flushing nervously. "I heard some one say that
Gray Lake was beyond Grizzly River," he explained lamely. "By all means
make it if we can."

There was no possible deduction to make from the incident, so Bill
turned his thought to other matters. "It's almost necessary--that we
make it," he said. "There's no horse feed nor decent camp site between
here and there. Besides, I don't like to put Miss Tremont up in a tent
to-night. The best cabin in my whole string is at Gray Lake--a really
snug little place, with a floor and a stove. Keep most of my trapping
supplies there. If we can make the ford by dark, we'll run in there
easy, it's only a mile or so over a well-run moose trail."

"And you think we're entirely safe in going on?" the girl asked.

"As far as I can see. I'm a little bit worried about Grizzly
River--I'm afraid it's up pretty high--but I'll try it first and see if
it's safe to ford. The snow-storm has quit--I think we'll have nice
weather in a few days. If it should begin again we could turn back and
make it through before the drifts got too deep to cross--that is, if
we didn't delay. And besides, when we get across Grizzly River we're in
favorable country for your search. We can put up at the cabin a few
days and make a thorough hunt for any sign of the missing man. If the
weather will permit--and I believe it will--we can follow down the
river to the Yuga and make inquiries of the Indians."

His words heartened the party. Even Lounsbury had begun to show some
eagerness; Vosper, flinching before the hard work of the trail, was
jubilant at the thought of a few days' rest. They pushed on into the
snow-swept waste.

The clouds knit again overhead, but as yet the air was clear of snow.
The temperature, however, seemed steadily falling. The breath of the
horses was a steam cloud; the potholes in the marsh were gray and
lifeless with ice. And it seemed to Virginia that the wild things that
they passed were curiously restless and uneasy; the jays flew from tree
to tree with raucous cries, the waterfowl circled endlessly over the
gray lakes.

This impression grew more vivid as the hours passed; and there was an
elusive but sinister significance about it that engrossed her, but which
she couldn't name or understand. She didn't mention the matter to Bill.
She couldn't have told why, for the plain reason that in her simplicity
she was not aware of her ow