engagement of
any kind. So far, we have kept you in grub; but we're not bound to do
so, and if you leave us, you must shift for yourself."

There was a tense silence for a moment or two. Benson, his face marked
with baffled desire and scarcely controlled fury, glared at the others.
Blake's expression was pitiful, but his lips were resolutely set; and
Harding's eyes were very keen and determined.

A curious look crept into Benson's face, and he made a sign of
resignation.

"It looks as if I were beaten," he said quietly. "I may as well go to
sleep."

He wrapped his blanket round him and lay down near the fire, and soon
afterward Blake and Harding crept into the tent. Benson would be warm
enough where he lay, and they felt it a relief to get away from him.

Day was breaking when Blake rose and threw fresh wood on the fire, and
as a bright flame leaped up, driving back the shadows, he saw that
Benson was missing. This, however, did not disturb him, for the man
had been restless and they had now and then heard him moving about at
night. When the fire had burned up and he had filled the kettle,
without seeing anything of his friend, he began to grow anxious. He
called loudly, but there was no answer, and he could hear no movement
in the bush. The dark spruces had grown sharper in form; he could see
some distance between the trunks, but everything was still.

"You had better see if the horses are there," Harding suggested, coming
out of the tent.

Blake failed to find them near the muskeg, but as the light got clearer
he saw tracks leading through the bush. Following these for a
distance, he came upon the Indian pony, still hobbled, but the other, a
powerful range horse, was missing. Mounting the pony, he rode back to
camp, where he found Harding looking grave.

"The fellow's gone and taken some provisions with him," he said. "He
left this for us."

It was a strip of paper, apparently torn from a notebook, with a few
lines expressing Benson's regret at having to leave them in such an
unceremonious fashion, and stating that he would leave the horse,
hobbled, at a spot about two days' ride away.

"He seems to think he's showing us some consideration in not riding the
beast down to the settlement," Blake remarked with a dubious smile,
feeling strongly annoyed with himself for not taking more precautions.
With the cunning which the lust for drink breeds in its victims Benson
had outwitted him by feigning a