t over the track, which did not in the least resemble
Lorraine's. "Yack! you find that jong lady quick!"

From there on Swan walked carefully, putting his foot wherever a print
of Al's boot was visible. Since he was much bigger than Al, with a
correspondingly longer stride, his gait puzzled Lone until he saw just
what Swan was doing. Then his eyes lightened with amused appreciation of
the Swede's cunning.

"We ought to have some hot drink, or whisky, when we find that girl,"
Hawkins muttered unexpectedly, riding up beside Lone as they crossed an
open space. "She'll be half-dead with cold--if we find her alive."

Before Lone could answer, Swan looked back at the two and raised his
hand for them to stop.

"Better if you leave the horses here," he suggested. "From Yack I know
we get close pretty quick. That jong lady's horse maybe smells these
horse and makes a noise, and crazy folks run from noise."

Without objection the three dismounted and tied their horses securely to
trees. Then, with Swan and Jack leading the way, they climbed over the
ridge and descended into the hollow by way of the ledge which Skinner
had negotiated so carefully the night before. Without the dog they never
would have guessed that any one had passed this way, but as it was they
made good progress and reached the nearest edge of the spruce thicket
just as the sun was making ready to push up over the skyline.

Jack stopped and looked up at his master inquiringly, lifting his lip at
the sides and showing his teeth. But he made no sound; nor did Swan,
when he dropped his fingers to the dog's head and patted him
approvingly.

They heard a horse sneeze, beyond the spruce grove, and Warfield stepped
forward authoritatively, waving Swan back. This, his manner said
plainly, was first and foremost his affair, and from now on he would
take charge of the situation. At his heels went Hawkins, and Swan sent
an oblique glance of satisfaction toward Lone, who answered it with his
half-smile. Swan himself could not have planned the approach more to his
liking.

The smell of bacon cooking watered their mouths and made Warfield and
Hawkins look at one another inquiringly. Crazy young women would hardly
be expected to carry a camping outfit. But Swan and Lone were treading
close on their heels, and their own curiosity pulled them forward. They
went carefully around the thicket, guided by the pungent odor of burning
pine wood, and halted so abruptly that Swan