at on his shoulders every mile of
the way and had driven him feverishly forward. But the salt that had
lent a savor to his passion was gone. Even though he won, he lost. For
Sheba had gone over to the enemy.

With the fierce willfulness of his temperament he tried to tread under
foot his doubts about the guilt of Holt and Elliot. Success had made him
arrogant and he was not a good loser. He hated the man who had robbed
him of Sheba, but he could not escape respecting him. Elliot had fought
until he had been hammered down into unconsciousness and he had crawled
to his feet and stood erect with the smile of the unconquered on his
lips. Was this the sort of man to murder in cold blood a kindly old
gentleman who had never harmed him?

The only answer Macdonald found was that Milton had taken him and his
partners by surprise. They had been driven to shoot the cashier to cover
up their crime. Perhaps Holt or another had fired the actual shots, but
Elliot was none the less guilty. The heart of the Scotchman was bitter
within him. He intended to see that his enemies paid to the last ounce.
He would harry them to the gallows if money and influence could do it.

None the less, his doubts persisted. If they had planned the bank
robbery, why did they wait so long to buy supplies for their escape? Why
had they not taken the river instead of the hill trail? The story that
his enemies told hung together. It had the ring of truth. The facts
supported it.

One piece of evidence in their favor Macdonald alone knew. It lay buried
in the deep snows of the hills. He shut his strong teeth in the firm
resolve that it should stay there.

CHAPTER XXXI

SHEBA DIGS

The weather had moderated a good deal, but the trail was a protected
forest one. The two teams now going down had come up, so that the path
was packed fairly hard and smooth. Holt lay propped on his own sled
against the sleeping-bags. Sheba mushed behind Gordon. She chatted with
them both, but ignored entirely the existence of Macdonald, who followed
with his prize-winning Siberian dogs.

Though she tried not to let her lover know it, Sheba was troubled at
heart. Gordon was practically the prisoner of a man who hated him
bitterly, who believed him guilty of murder, and who would go through
fire to bring punishment home to him. She knew the power of Macdonald.
With the money back of him, he had for two years fought against and
almost prevailed over a strong public opi