charges!" cried Tostoff, with an angry snort. "O-ho! so that's
his game? That's why he's been bucking us--because he's got a line of
his own!"

Lapierre laughed. "Not so fast, Tostoff, not so fast. It is a
frame-up. That is, the charges are not, but the evidence is. I
attended to that myself. I think we have enough on him to keep him out
of the cold for a couple of winters to come. But you can't tell. And
while we have him we will put the screws to him for all there is in it.
It is the chance of a lifetime. What we want now is evidence--and more
evidence.

"Here is the scheme: You fix up a consignment, five or ten gallons, the
usual way, and instead of shooting it in by the Athabasca, cut into the
old trail on the Beaver and take it across the Methye portage to a
_cache_ on the Clearwater. Brown's old cabin will about fill the bill.
We ought to be able to _cache_ the stuff by Christmas.

"In the meantime, I will slip up the river and tip it off to the
Mounted at Fort McMurray that I got it straight from down below that
MacNair is going to run in a batch over the Methye trail, and that it
is to be _cached_ on the bank of the Clearwater on New Year's Day.
That will give your packers a week to make their getaway. And on New
Year's Day the Mounted will find the stuff in the _cache_. There will
be nobody to arrest, but they will have the evidence that will clinch
the case against MacNair. And with MacNair behind the bars we will
have things our own way north of sixty."

Tostoff shook his head dubiously.

"Bad business, Lapierre," he warned. "Winter trailing is bad business.
The snow tells tales. We haven't been caught yet. Why? Not because
we've been lucky, but because we've been careful. Water leaves no
trail. We've always run our stuff in in the summer. You say you've
got the goods on MacNair. I say, let well enough alone. The Mounted
ain't fools--they can read the sign in the snow."

Lapierre arose with a curse. "You white-livered clod!" he cried. "Who
is running this scheme? You or I? Who delivers the whiskey to the
Indians? And who pays you your money? I do the thinking for this
outfit. I didn't come down here to _ask_ you to run this consignment.
I came here to _tell_ you to do it. This thing of playing safe is all
right. I never told you to run a batch in the winter before, but this
time you have got to take the chance."

Lapierre leaned closer and fixed the heavy-faced Russian