ves, even at a walk. He found
that by holding her higher in his arms, with her own arms encircling
his shoulders, it was easier to run with her at the pace he had set for
himself. And when he held her in this way her hair covered his breast
and shoulders so that now and then his face was smothered in the
velvety sweetness of it. The caress of it and the thrill of her arms
about him spurred him on. Once he made three hundred yards. But he was
gulping for breath when he stopped. That time Celie compelled him to
let her run a little farther, and when they paused she was swaying on
her feet, and panting. He carried her only a hundred and fifty yards in
the interval after that. Both realized what it meant. The pace was
telling on them. The strain of it was in Celie's eyes. The flower-like
flush of her first exertion was gone from her face. It was pale and a
little haggard, and in Philip's face she saw the beginning of the
things which she did not realize was betraying itself so plainly in her
own. She put her hands up to his cheeks, and smiled. It was
tremendous--that moment;--her courage, her splendid pride in him, her
manner of telling him that she was not afraid as her little hands lay
against his face. For the first time he gave way to his desire to hold
her close to him, and kiss the sweet mouth she held up to his as her
head nestled on his breast.

After a moment or two he looked at his watch. Since striking the
strange trail they had traveled forty minutes. In that tine they had
covered at least three miles, and were a good four miles from the scene
of the fight. It was a big start. The Eskimos were undoubtedly a half
that distance behind them, and the stranger whom they were following
could not be far ahead.

They went on at a walk. For the third time they came to a point in the
trail where the stranger had stopped to make observations. It was
apparent to Philip that the man he was after was not quite sure of
himself. Yet he did not hesitate in the course due north.

For half an hour they continued in that direction. Not for an instant
now did Philip allow; his caution to lag. Eyes and ears were alert for
sound or movement either behind or ahead of them, and more and more
frequently he turned to scan the back trail. They were at least five
miles from the edge of the open where the fight had occurred when they
came to the foot of a ridge, and Philip's heart gave a sudden thump of
hope. He remembered that ridge. It