r. Otherwise he gave no sign. His time had come. He knew that. He
had always known it would come. There was neither heat nor resentment in
him against these men who had finally hunted him down.

"How do we travel?" he asked quietly. "You've shot up my leader."

The other nodded. He understood the tone of complaint and regret in
which the trail man spoke of his dog. He grinned maliciously.

"We'll shoot up the rest for you. They'd only feed the wolves if we left
'em. We've two dog trains with us. Don't let that worry. You best get
your kit loosed from your sled."

The prisoner turned to obey, but the agent changed his mind. He laughed.

"No. Guess the boys can fix that. It's safer that way. You move right on
into yonder bluff. And you best not try making any break. There ain't
only Hellbeam in this. I haven't forgotten--No. 10 Camp. Your game's
plumb up."

"Yes, plumb up."

Father Adam obeyed. He moved away, followed closely by the man who had
hunted him for so many years. There was no escape. He knew that. The
reckoning he had always foreseen had overtaken him. So, without a word
of protest, he passed for the last time into the twilight of the woods.

THE END

The Heart of Unaga

By

Ridgwell Cullum

Author of "The Way of the Strong," etc.

Many a stalwart deed has been done and many a brave tale told of the
forbidding but romantic North-land, but seldom has an author so combined
a tale of love, adventure, and strong swift action with mystery.

The terrible fires of Unaga crimsoning the white silent wastes are so
vividly portrayed, that the reader must feel authenticity. The strange
"sleeper" Indians are real Indians, the big-souled Northwest policeman
is not a superman, but a real human being, the girl is bonafide, the
villain is not fictional, but an actual personality, brave and base
alike--all the characters are living and breathing folk, that you feel
are there in far-off Unaga, and that you know you would find there, were
you hardy enough to visit that remorseless country.

G, P. Putnam's Sons

New York London

SNOWDRIFT

BY

JAMES B. HENDRYX

A Romance of the barrens--"straight north--between the Mackenzie and the
Bay," where Snowdrift, waif of the Arctic, Indian bred, bearing a false
but heavy burden of shame, and Carter Brent, Southerner, find their
great happiness among the icy wastes.

Swept to the Klondike by the first wave of the great gold rush, Brent
plunges,