g the rocks; a white hare's
track, paralleled by the big round imprints of a lynx, ran along the
unseen path they followed as Miller guided them toward Westgate.

Later, outlined in the white waste, ancient apple-trees appeared,
gnarled relics of some long-abandoned clearing; and, as they passed,
Duane chanced to glance across the rocks to the left.

At first he thought he saw something move, but began to make up his mind
that he was deceived.

Noticing that he had halted, Geraldine came back, and then Miller
returned to where he stood, squinting through the falling flakes in the
vague landscape beyond.

"It moved; I seen it," whispered Miller hoarsely.

"It's a deer," motioned Geraldine; "it's too big for anything else."

For five minutes in perfect silence they watched the gray, flat forms of
scrub and rock; and Duane was beginning to lose faith in everybody's
eyes when, without warning, a huge, colourless shape detached itself
from the flat silhouettes and moved leisurely out into the open.

There was no need to speak; trembling slightly, he cleared his rifle
sight of snow, steadied his nerves, raised the weapon, and fired.

A horrid sort of scream answered the shot; the boar lurched off among
the rocks, and after him at top speed ran Duane and Miller, while
Geraldine, on swift skis, sped eastward like the wind to block retreat
to the mountain. She heard Duane's rifle crack again, then again; heard
a heavy rush in the thicket in front of her, lifted her rifle, fired,
was hurled sideways on the rocks, and knew no more until she unclosed
her bewildered eyes in her lover's arms.

A sharp pain shot through her; she gasped, turned very white, and lay
with wide eyes and parted lips staring at Duane.

Suddenly a penetrating aroma filled her lungs; with all her strength she
pushed away the flask at her lips.

"No! No! Not that! I _will_ not, Duane!"

"Dear," he said unsteadily, "you are very badly hurt. We are trying to
carry you back. You must let me give you this----"

"No," she sobbed, "I will not! Duane--I--" Pain made her faint; her
grasp on his arm tightened convulsively; with a supreme effort she
struck the flask out of his hand and dropped back unconscious.

CHAPTER XXIII

SINE DIE

The message ran:

"My sister badly hurt in an accident; concussion, intermittent
consciousness. We fear spinal and internal injury. What train
can you catch?