bbing of his
traps. But Pat was evidently unconscious of any possible connection
between his news and his audience. As absolute silence was the only
possible road ever to learning the truth, Pat left the next day on his
journey north, not a whit the wiser for his night at the new
homestead.

"It do sound strange, Nancy, don't it?" said her husband, after their
guest had gone. "Roderick Norman can't have any grudge against me.
Why, sure, it should be all t' other way." And he got up, stretched
his splendid muscular limbs, and, picking up his axe, took out any
excess of feeling there might be in his heart by a good two hours'
work at the woodpile.

Meanwhile his mind had not been idle. Whoever it was that robbed his
traps could not have come along the usual trail. The ice outside had
not been safe for travelling. He certainly must have come out from the
country. It had never occurred to Malcolm to spend time exploring the
land which lay south of his fur-path. But now it seemed to him that he
must at all costs set out the following morning and verify his
suspicions if he were to retain his hope of a livelihood in that
locality.

"I'm minded to try it right away, Nancy," said Malcolm. "If I could
only get a good view from one of t' hilltops, I'd have no trouble, for
there is still plenty of food in my tilts."

"But, Malcolm, 't is only two days till Christmas and this is our
first together. Surely no one ever goes on the fur-path
Christmastime."

"That's just it, lass. No one is on t' path as ought to be, and I
reckon for that very reason there be more chance of seeing those as
ought not."

There was no escaping the logic of the Scotchman, and his wife
acquiesced without further argument. He was well into the country
before daylight next day.

It was a glorious morning, as away there in utter solitude the
evergreen trees, the red-faced cliffs, the startling whiteness of the
snow, and exquisite blue overhead fading into the purple distance of
the winding valley met his keen view from a mountain-top. It was
Labrador at its best--clear, dry, cold, and not a sound to break the
absolute silence, even the trickling of the rapids and the splashing
of distant falls being muffled by then-heavy cloaks of ice.

Suddenly Malcolm's face grew rigid and his eyes unconsciously fixed
themselves on a moving object--a tiny whiff of blue smoke was curling
up from the woods on the other side of the valley. Gentle though he
was, his