ionary's
wife. Mrs. Gates came in at noon, but Miss Jean said she would
slide once or twice more, alone. She hasn't come in, and we can
find no trace of her."

"Why wasn't I told of this?" cried the factor, in a weak, pitiful
voice.

"We didn't want to alarm you unnecessarily, sir," Said Tee-ka-mee.

"Oh, get out of here! Leave me alone," groaned Fitzpatrick; and
the two men quietly went out, and closed the door on the old man's
grief.

CHAPTER IX

THE BROKEN PIPE

For nearly the whole night, Donald McTavish had paced the bare
little room that had been set aside for him. Now, he looked at his
watch. It was four o'clock.

The thought occurred to him that he ought to get some rest, but
immediately his common sense told him that for twenty-five days
more he would have nothing to do but rest, and, spurred on by the
witches that rode his racing mind, he continued his animal-like
pacing. Up one side, across past the foot of the bed; back again
and down; that was his route. And, while his feet traversed but
seven or eight yards, his mind was speeding across all the
leagueless spaces of the Northland.

Where was she? Where was she? This was the continual refrain that
rang in his ears. For five days now, Jean Fitzpatrick had been
gone; swallowed up in the silent, snowy wastes. Who had taken her?
Why? And whither?

When Tee-ka-mee's announcement spread through the post, fifty men
had rushed out to the search, cursing, sobbing, or praying, each
according to his own temperament; for nowhere in all the Northland
was a girl more beloved than was Jean Fitzpatrick. Summer and
winter, the days were full of little kindnesses of hers, so that
her disappearance was not a signal for a "duty" search, but one in
which every man worked as though he alone had been to blame for
her loss.

Her toboggan had been found at the top of the hill where she and
Mrs. Gates had spent the morning, and on the hard crust a few dim
tracks could be seen leading into the forest, with now and then a
dent where, perhaps, the girl's snowshoe had gone through. But
aside from these unsatisfying clews not a trace of her could be
located.

For two days, the searchers took every trail, traveling light and
running swiftly, but to no avail. The girl had disappeared as though
evaporated by the sun.

Then did old Angus Fitzpatrick, bowed with grief, summon his council
and deliberate as to the affairs at Sturgeon Lake. Stern old
disciplinarian with