ir ice bonds, and the men knew that the logs
must go out on the flood though the heavens fell.

The drizzle continued, the gray daylight wore into darkness, and with
the darkness came the return of good cheer. For rollways must be broken
out in the light of day, and the air rang with loud laughter and the
rhythmic swing of roaring chanteys, as the men realized that they were
not to be robbed of their gala day with its long night of feasting.

The phonograph, with its high-piled box of records, occupied a
conspicuous place upon the dais, and upon the long table was displayed
an enormous collection of gifts, chief among which was the ingeniously
constructed chair with its broad back of flaring moose antlers.

At seven-thirty the men filed in from the bunk-house and found places
upon the benches where they sat awkwardly, conversing in loud whispers.

Father Lapre, book in hand, took his place at the altar, and a few
minutes later Bill Carmody entered with Sheridan and strode rapidly up
the aisle. At the sight of the boss the crew rose as one man and the
room rang with a loud, spontaneous cheer.

The little priest held up his hand for silence. At a signal someone
started the graphophone, and to the sweet strains of a march the bride
appeared, leaning upon the arm of her uncle.

Slowly, with bowed head, in the midst of a strained silence, she
traversed the length of the long room, the cynosure of all eyes. When
almost at the altar she raised her eyes to the man who awaited her
there.

Her quick, indrawn breath was almost a gasp, and Appleton felt her arm
tremble upon his.

He stood waiting for her--this man into whose keeping she was giving
her life--exactly as she had seen him at the time of their first
meeting in the North country when he stood, big and bearded, in the
gathering dusk, framed in the doorway of the little office.

In one swift glance she saw that every detail was the same, from the
high-laced boots to the embroidered hunting-shirt open at the
throat--only his eyes were different--there was no pain, now, in the
gray eyes that blazed eagerly into her own--only happiness, and the
burning passion of love.

And then her uncle retired, and she stood alone with the man, facing
the priest. She could hear the voice of the little pink priest and of
the big man at her side, and as in a dream she found herself repeating
the words of the ritual.

She knew that a ring was being placed upon her finger, and she