all,
unbelievable and preposterous as it seemed in the light of what she had
witnessed with her own eyes, unsure of MacNair--of his villainy!

Before noon the first snow of the season started in a fall of light,
feathery flakes, which gradually resolved themselves into fine, hard
particles that were hurled and buffeted about by the blasts of a fitful
wind.

For three days the blizzard raged--days in which Lapierre contrived to
spend much time in Chloe's company, and during which the girl set about
deliberately to study the quarter-breed, in the hope of placing
definitely the defect in his make-up, the tangible reason for the
growing sense of distrust with which she was coming to regard him.
But, try as she would, she could find no cause, no justification, for
the uncomfortable and indefinable _something_ that was gradually
developing into an actual doubt of his sincerity. She knew that the
man had himself well in hand, for never by word or look did he express
any open avowal of love, although a dozen times a day he managed subtly
to show that his love had in no wise abated.

On the morning of the fourth day, with forest and lake and river buried
beneath three feet of snow, Lapierre took the trail for the southward.
Before leaving, he sought out LeFroy in the storehouse.

"We have things our own way, but we must lie low for a while, at least.
MacNair is not licked yet--by a damn' sight! He knows we furnished the
booze to his Indians, and he will yell his head off to the Mounted, and
we will have them dropping in on us all the winter. In the meantime
leave the liquor where it is. Don't bring a gallon of it into this
clearing. It will keep, and we can't take chances with the Mounted.
There will be enough in it for us, with what we can knock down here,
and what the boys can take out of MacNair's diggings. They know the
gold is there; most of them were in on the stampede when MacNair drove
them back a few years ago. And when they find out that MacNair is in
jail, there will be another stampede. And we will clean up big all
around."

LeFroy, a man of few words, nodded sombrely, and Lapierre, who was
impatient to be off to the rivers, failed to note that the nod was far
more sombre than usual--failed, also, to note the pair of china-blue,
fishlike eyes that stared impassively at him from behind the goods
piled high upon the huge counter.

Once upon the trail, Lapierre lost no time. As passed the word upon
the