extended, as if the thing had died.

While Granger had been looking, Spurling also had seen and had
surmised. Coming swiftly forward, he stooped to pick up the knife.
Granger read his purpose and, as he leant forward to pluck it from the
boards, kicked him heavily in the chest, so that he lost his balance
and fell sprawling on his back. Before he could recover himself, he
had opened the door and released the hand. Possessing himself of the
knife, he set his back against the door again to prevent Spurling from
following. There was a little cry of gladness, and the sound of
footsteps rustling the snow as they hurried away.

For the remainder of the long night, he stood guard over the man whom
he had rescued. When the dawn broke and he visited the shack, he found
that Peggy had vanished.

CHAPTER XX

SPURLING TAKES FRIGHT

If Spurling had suspected Granger before, he was doubly suspicious of
him now. Wherever he went, his heavy treacherous eyes followed and
spied upon him. In one thing only were they united--in their desire to
see the last of Murder Point. For the accomplishment of this end, they
laboured feverishly in sullen silence. On visiting the dog-pen, they
found that of the eleven huskies which had been there, three were
missing; of the eight which remained, four were the animals left over
from the grey team belonging to Spurling, and these were the best.
This meant that they would be able to harness but four dogs apiece to
a sled, and would have to leave some of their wealth behind, limiting
each outfit together with the gold to not more than three hundred
pounds. On examining his clothing, Granger found that his favourite
capote was not there; he conjectured that Peggy had taken that also in
her hurry.

They went to the store and selected their provisions with care, taking
no flour or canned goods, but tallow and fat bacon, because this food
is least bulky and affords most nourishment. For the same reason,
instead of the usual allowance for a husky of two raw white fish a
day, they took lumps of grease frozen solid. Of the gold they took
mostly dust, because it packed closer than nuggets. This they divided
into equal shares and poured into moose-hide sacks, which they lashed
to the bottom of their sleds, with their outfit above.

They clothed themselves warmly for the journey, for already there were
forty degrees of frost, and this was but November. They put on three
flannel shirts apiece and one