there, Tom?" he said. Okanagan rose up
with a little grim laugh. "Thorns," he said. "There's a condemned big
one in my thumb."

Seaforth stared at him with a vague suspicion that the hardships of the
forced march they had made had left their mark upon his comrade, though
he had never noticed any signs of mental weakness in the big axeman
before.

"Aren't there plenty to be picked up in this country without looking
for them?" he said.

Okanagan glanced at him with a little twinkle which was not altogether
mirthful in his eyes. "Oh, yes. More than I've any use for. You were
trying to figure on what I was after? The thing's quite as easy as
trailing a deer."

"I was," said Seaforth dryly, and Okanagan approaching him dropped a
big hand upon his shoulder.

"Come right along, and I'll show you," said he.

Seaforth followed him, until he stopped by the fir he had worked his
alignment from, where he picked up a spent cartridge and pointed to a
mark in the snow.

"Nothing particular about that, anyway, a forty-four Winchester," he
said. "The fellow had long boots on with one heel down, and he stood
right here waiting for Harry. Harry was coming along yonder with the
deer, forty yards I make it, and he jumped when the fellow started
shooting."

"You think he did?" said Seaforth, slightly bewildered, and Okanagan
laughed.

"No, sir, I'm sure," he said. "I could show you where his heels went
in if it would do you any good. Harry was coming along quick as he
could, thinking about his supper, and the other fellow was crouching
here, clawing his rifle and waiting until he came into the moonlight."

The blood surged into Seaforth's forehead, and he clenched one hand.
"The condemned villain! It was devilish," he said.

Okanagan nodded gravely, and his rugged face was stern.

"Oh, yes, but, slinging names at him's not much use," he said. "Well,
I feel it in me that we're going to see more of that man by and by, and
that's just why I'm working up the whole thing from the beginning. Now
I'll show you some more of it."

They floundered through one or two thickets until Okanagan stopped
again, and pointed to the red smear upon the fern and withered
pine-needles. "That's where Harry lay and waited for him," he said.
"He was bleeding pretty bad, but he knew the other fellow meant to
finish him."

"Waited for him when he was almost helpless and the man meant to murder
him?" said Seaforth, with cold rage and h