d the forest odours floated to us on the sharp autumn air.
The cedar fire smelt sweet and we could just hear the gentle wash of
tiny waves along the shore. All was calm, beautiful, and remote from the
world of men and passion. It was, indeed, a night to touch the soul, and
yet, I think, none of us heeded these things. A bull-moose might almost
have thrust his great head over our shoulders and have escaped
unnoticed. The death of Jake the Swede, with its sinister setting, was
the real presence that held the centre of the stage and compelled
attention.

"You won't p'raps care to come along, Mister," said Morris, by way of a
beginning; "but I guess I'll go with one of the boys here and have a
hunt for it."

"Sure," said Hank. "Jake an' I done some biggish trips together in the
old days, and I'll do that much for'm."

"It's deep water, they tell me, round them islands," added Silver Fizz;
"but we'll find it, sure pop,--if it's thar."

They all spoke of the body as "it."

There was a minute or two of heavy silence, and then Rushton again burst
out with his story in almost the identical words he had used before. It
was almost as if he had learned it by heart. He wholly failed to
appreciate the efforts of the others to let him off.

Silver Fizz rushed in, hoping to stop him, Morris and Hank closely
following his lead.

"I once knew another travellin' partner of his," he began quickly; "used
to live down Moosejaw Rapids way--"

"Is that so?" said Hank.

"Kind o' useful sort er feller," chimed in Morris.

All the idea the men had was to stop the tongue wagging before the
discrepancies became so glaring that we should be forced to take notice
of them, and ask questions. But, just as well try to stop an angry
bull-moose on the run, or prevent Beaver Creek freezing in mid-winter by
throwing in pebbles near the shore. Out it came! And, though the
discrepancy this time was insignificant, it somehow brought us all in a
second face to face with the inevitable and dreaded climax.

"And so I tramped all over that little bit of an island, hoping he
might somehow have gotten in without my knowing it, and always thinking
I _heard that awful last cry of his_ in the darkness--and then the night
dropped down impenetrably, like a damn thick blanket out of the sky,
and--"

All eyes fell away from his face. Hank poked up the logs with his boot,
and Morris seized an ember in his bare fingers to light his pipe,
although it was alrea