y moccasins. We had lots of meat, so we rested up a couple of weeks,
and then came back."

That was all. These men had done a great thing, and thus simply they
told it. And they only told that much of it because it was their duty;
they must report to their chief.

Galen Albret seemed for a moment to consider, as was his habit.

"You have done well," he pronounced at last. "My confidence in you was
justified. The pay stands as agreed. In addition I place you in charge
of the post at Lost River, and you, Herron, in charge of the Mattagami
Brigade."

The men flushed, deeply pleased, more than rewarded, not by the money
nor the advancement, but by the unqualified satisfaction of their
commander.

They turned away. At this moment Virginia Albret, on some errand to her
father, appeared outlined in slender youth against the doorway. On the
instant she recognized them.

"Why, Sam and Dick," she said, "I am glad to see you. When did you get
back?"

"Just back, Miss Virginia," replied Sam.

"That's good. I hope you've had a successful trip."

"Yes," answered Sam. The woodsman stood there a little awkwardly,
wishing to be polite, not sure as to whether they should now go without
further dismissal.

"See, Miss Virginia," hesitated Sam, to fill in the pause, "I have your
handkerchief yet."

"I'm glad you kept it, Sam," replied the young girl; "and have you
yours, Dick?"

And suddenly to Dick the contrast between this reality and that other
came home with the vividness of a picture. He saw again the snow-swept
plain, the wavering shapes of illusion, the mock suns dancing in unholy
revel. The colour of the North burned before his eyes; a madness of the
North unsealed his lips.

"I used it to cover a dead girl's face," he replied, bluntly.

The story had been as gray as a report of statistics,--so many places
visited, so much time consumed. The men smoking cigars, lounging on
cushioned seats in the tepid summer air, had listened to it unimpressed,
as one listens to the reading of minutes of a gathering long past. This
simple sentenced breathed into it life. The magnitude of the undertaking
sprang up across the horizon of their comprehension. They saw between
the mile-post markings of Sam Bolton's dry statements of fact, glimpses
of vague, mysterious, and terrible deeds, indistinct, wonderful. The two
before them loomed big in the symbolism of the wide world of men's
endurance and determination and courage.

The dar