n't have much trouble in following his trail."

A few minutes later three men appeared, carefully leading two big
horses through the trees.

"Saw your fire a piece back," said one, when they had hauled up a
clumsy sled. "I'm mighty glad to find you, Blake; we were wondering
how far we might have to go."

"Then you came up after me, Tom?" exclaimed Blake. "You wouldn't have
got much farther with that team; but who sent you?"

"I don't quite know. It seems that Gardner got orders from somebody
that you were to be found, and he hired me and the boys. We had
trouble in getting here, but we allowed we could bring up more grub and
blankets on the sled, and we could send Jake back with the team when we
struck the thick bush. Then we were going to make a cache, and pack
along as much stuff as we could carry. But I have a letter which may
tell you something."

Blake opened it, and Harding noticed that his face grew intent; but he
put the letter into his pocket and turned to the man.

"It's from a friend in England," he said. "You were lucky in finding
me, and we'll go back together in the morning."

After attending to their horses, the new arrivals joined the others at
the fire, and explained that at the hotel-keeper's suggestion they had
meant to head for the Indian village, and make inquiries on their way
up at the logging camp. Though Blake talked to them, he had a
preoccupied look, and Harding knew that he was thinking of the letter.
He had, however, no opportunity for questioning him, and he waited
until the next day, when Emile, whom they were helping, chose a shorter
way across a ravine than that taken by the police and the men with the
bob-sled. When they reached the bottom of the hollow, Blake told the
half-breed to stop, and he took his comrades aside.

"There's something I must tell you," he said. "It was Colonel
Challoner who sent the boys up from the settlement with food for us,
and he begs me to come home at once. That's a point on which I'd like
your opinion; but you shall hear what he has to say."

Sitting down on a log, he began to read from his letter:

"'_A man named Clarke, whom you have evidently met, lately called on me
and suggested an explanation of the Indian affair. As the price of his
keeping silence on the subject, he demanded that I should take a number
of shares in a syndicate he is forming for the exploitation of some
petroleum wells._'"

"It was a good offer," Harding