or three days of this. Better turn in, Porter. I'm
going to dig out another room--for Miss Tavish. I'm afraid she'll need
the convenience of a private room before we're able to move. It's an
easy job--and passes the time away."

"I'll help," offered Porter.

For an hour they worked, using McKay's snowshoes as shovels. During
that hour Breault did not close his eyes. A curious smile curled his
thin lips as he watched Jolly Roger. And when at last Porter turned in,
and slept, the Ferret sat up, and stretched himself. McKay had finished
his room, and was beginning a tunnel which would lead as a back door
out of the drift, when Breault came in and picked up the snowshoe which
Porter had used.

"I'll take my turn," he said. "I'm a bit nervous, and not at all
sleepy, Cummings." He began digging into the snow. "Been long in this
country?" he asked.

"Three winters. It's a good red fox country, with now and then a silver
and a black."

Breault grunted.

"You must have met Cassidy, then," he said casually, without looking at
McKay. "Corporal Terence Cassidy. This is _his_ country."

Jolly Roger did not look up from his work of digging.

"Yes, I know him. Met him last winter. Red headed. A nice chap. I like
him. You know him?"

"Entered the service together," said Breault. "But he's unlucky. For
two or three years he has been on the trail of a man named McKay. Jolly
Roger, they call him--Jolly Roger McKay. Ever hear of him?"

Jolly Roger nodded.

"Cassidy told me about him when he was at my cabin. From what I've
heard I--rather like him."

"Who--Cassidy, or Jolly Roger?"

"Both."

For the first time the Ferret leveled his eyes at his companion. They
were mystifying eyes, never appearing to open fully, but remaining half
closed as if to conceal whatever thought might lie behind them. McKay
felt their penetration. It was like a cold chill entering into him,
warning him of a menace deadlier than the storm.

"Haven't any idea where one might come upon this Jolly Roger, have you?"

"No."

"You see, he thinks he killed a man down south. Well, he didn't. The
man lived. If you happen to see him at any time give him that
information, will you?"

Jolly Roger thrust his head and shoulders into the growing tunnel.

"Yes, I will."

He knew Breault was lying. And also knew that back of the narrow slits
of Breault's eyes was the cunning of a fox.

"You might also tell him the law has a mind to forgive him for stick