d with increased alarm the
thickening of the storm. Whirlwinds of snow beat in their faces. Jimmy
Grayson once heard the big, burly man by his side say, in a kind of
sobbing whisper, "Oh, my little girl!" and he felt a catch in his own
throat.

Then he repeated the "King's" own words, "We will find them."

"And alive!" said the "King," in fierce defiance.

He did not speak again for a long time. He seemed to become unconscious
of the presence by his side of Jimmy Grayson, the man whom in his hot
wrath he had threatened to betray. At last he turned his head and said,
as if it were an impulse:

"Mr. Grayson, they said I was going to knife you, and I meant to do it!
They tempted me, and I was willing to be tempted by them; but, by God! I
gave them no promise and I won't. I was your friend, and I'm your friend
again!"

"A better I never hope to have," said Jimmy Grayson, and in the storm
the hands of the two men met in a grasp as true as it was strong.

"We will not speak of this again," said Mr. Grayson and they never did.
A resident of Grafton, Mr. Harrison, came up to them, fighting his way
through the snow.

"Mr. Plummer," he said, "there are some rocky hills three or four miles
north of here, with hollows and sort of half-way caves here and there in
their sides. It's barely possible that Mr. Harley and Miss Morgan have
got to one of those places. I think we ought to go there at once,
because, because--"

The man's voice failed.

"Speak out," said the "King," "I can stand it."

"Well, it's just this, though I hate to say it. It's a sure thing that
they've gone a long distance, an' if they've hit on one of the hollows
we're likely to find 'em alive if we get there pretty soon, but if they
ain't in a hollow they'll be--they'll be--"

"They'll be dead when we do find them. Take us to the hills, Mr.
Harrison."

The man, lantern in hand, strode on, and with him were Mr. Grayson and
Mr. Plummer. Hobart was at the candidate's elbow. Twilight was at hand
and the darkness was increasing, although the snow was thinning. Hobart,
peering out on the plain, saw only the swells of snow rising and
falling like a white sea, and overhead the sky of sullen clouds. He
marked the agony on the faces of the candidate and the "King," and his
own heart was heavy. There was no thrill over a mystery now; the lost
were too dear to him.

"It's night," said Mr. Plummer. In his heart was the fear that the two,
overpowered, had falle