on his way to warn
the King's men. He rose to his feet, stepped to the door, and looked
out. It was blowing hard, and he knew that the storm was not far off.
He must get away before it burst.

A peculiar sound from the man on the floor caused him to hasten to his
side. In an instant he saw that all was over, and that the earthly
career of Bill Botreau was ended.

There was little now that Dane could do. He did not fancy the idea of
leaving the bodies lying there uncovered, so going outside he cut and
carried in a large armful of spruce boughs. These he spread carefully
over the bodies.

"It is more than your own gang would do," he mused. "You were
contemptible men, I know, but not as bad, perhaps, as those villains
who left you here. They must be checked and paid back in double coin
for all their devilish work, and I want to be on hand when payment is
being made."

CHAPTER XXIX

SHELTERING ARMS

Having closed the cabin door, Dane stepped into his snow-shoes, slung
his pack over his shoulders, and started forth after the slashers. He
carried his gun in his hand that he might be ready for any emergency.
It was not hard to follow the trail, and the travelling much easier
than when out upon the river. Although he moved rapidly forward, he
was keenly alert to every sight and sound. How far the rebels would go
without camping he had no idea. He knew that at times they travelled
all night and slept by day. If they intended to do so now it would be
necessary for him to exert every effort in order to overtake them. He
was well aware that as a rule they did not travel fast, being too
indolent and lazy, so in this lay his only hope of outstripping the
villains.

His course lay through the heart of a large forest, straight overland,
and north of where the Loyalists were encamped on the A-jem-sek. Up
hill and down he sped, pausing not for an instant, with powerful
swinging strides that would have tested even Pete's great endurance.
That he had been travelling since early morning, with the exception of
his brief stay at the cabin, seemed to make no difference to him.
Davidson had made no mistake in choosing such a man as his chief ranger.

Hour after hour he sped onward through the silent, sombre forest. The
wind increased in violence, and the trees swayed and creaked as the
tempest tore through their branches. The storm was not far off, and
might burst at any minute.

Reaching at length the summit