bled eyes, and, in a moment it seemed,
every line which had been so deeply indicative before was suddenly
smoothed out of her pretty face. The woman sprang from her chair
transformed with an expression of deep relief and content. She glanced
swiftly over the supper table as a key turned in the latch of the door.

A man with a brown beard thrust his way in and glanced swiftly over the
whole length of the room. It was the searching look of a mind concerned,
deeply concerned, with safety. Then his dark eyes came to the woman's
face which was turned upon him questioningly.

"Well?" she demanded.

The monosyllable was full of deep significance. It asked a hundred
questions.

Just for a moment no answer was forthcoming. The man turned from the
woman, and his eyes sought the child's cot. There was no softness in his
regard. It was deeply contemplative. That was all. It was the woman who
displayed feeling as she followed his gaze, and the lighting of her
beautiful eyes was with swift apprehension.

"Something's the matter, Hervey!" she demanded sharply.

The lamplight caught the man's eyes as they came back to her face, and
its rays left them shining with a curious, lurid reflection.

"Matter?" A sharp, impotent oath broke from him. Then he checked his
impulse to rave. "Yes. See here, Nita," he went on, with a restraint
which added deep impressiveness, "we've got to quit. We've got to get
out--quick. Steve's hard on our trail. I've seen him to-day at
Mallard's. He didn't see me. Only my back. But I saw him. He came with
Saney. And there's only one thing I guess to bring Steve to Mallard's.
Saney's never given me a moment's nightmare. But Steve--Steve back from
Unaga, Steve in plain clothes in Quebec _with Saney_, and me sheltering
at Mallard's, tells its own story to anyone with _savee_. It means he's
got a hot scent, and he's following it right up. He's not the sort to
let go of it--easy. It's quit for us--and quit right away."

Nita sighed. She passed a shaking hand across her forehead, and when it
had passed all the tracery of lines had returned and stood out even more
sharply.

"It's come--at last," she said, in a weary, hopeless tone. "It was bound
to. I knew it right along. I told you."

"Oh, yes, you told me," Garstaing retorted, with a sneer that was always
ready when anger supervened. "Guess you told me a whole heap of fool
stuff one time and another. But you needn't reckon we're going to sit
around under t