ld gaze. He did not know us. He was still
fighting the blizzard. He raised himself up.

"Keep a-going, keep a-going," he panted.

"Keep that bucket a-going," said the Halfbreed. "Thank God, we've got
plenty of ice-water. We've got to thaw him out."

Then for this man began a night of agony, such as few have endured. We
lifted him onto a chair and put one of those clay-cold feet into the
water. At the contact he screamed, and I could see ice crystallise on
the edge of the bucket. I had forgotten my hatred of the man. I only
thought of those frozen hands and feet, and how to get life into them
once more. Our struggle began.

"The blood's beginning to circulate back," said the Halfbreed. "I guess
that water feels scalding hot to him right now. We'll have to hold him
down presently. Ugh--hold on, boys, for all you're worth."

He had not warned us any too soon. In a terrible spasm of agony Locasto
threw us off quickly. We grasped him again. Now we were struggling with
him. He fought like a demon. He was cursing us, praying us to leave him
alone, raving, shrieking. Grimly we held on, yet, all three, it was as
much as we could do to keep him down.

"One would think we were murdering him," said the Halfbreed. "Keep his
foot in the bucket there. I wish we'd some kind of dope to give him.
There's boiling lead running through his veins right now. Keep him down,
boys; keep him down."

It was hard, but keep him down we did; though his cries of anguish
deafened us through that awful night, and our muscles knotted as we
gripped. Hour after hour we held him, plunging now a hand, now a foot
in the ice-water, and holding it there. How long he fought! How strong
he was! But the time came when he could fight no more. He was like a
child in our hands.

There, at last it was done. We wrapped the tender flesh in pieces of
blanket. We laid him moaning on the bed. Then, tired out with our long
struggle, we threw ourselves down and slept like logs.

Next morning he was still unconscious. He suffered intense pain, so that
Jim or the Halfbreed had to be ever by him. I, for my part, refused to
go near. Indeed, I watched with a growing hatred his slow recovery. I
was sorry, sorry. I wished he had died.

At last he opened his eyes, and feebly he asked where he was. After the
Halfbreed had told him, he lay silent awhile.

"I've had a close call," he groaned. Then he went on triumphantly: "I
guess the Wild hasn't got the bulge on me yet. I