Again the door was thumped; then great pressure was put upon it. It
opened, letting in a half-dozen men and a wide path of warm sunlight.

"Hurrah! hurrah!" "Folks, you snowed in?" "Thank God, you're all right."
"The basket, boys, the basket."

"W'y, Lawd!" cried the section-boss, winking against the light; "ain't
they no blizzard?"

A trooper with a chevroned sleeve saluted them. His air was jaunty. His
face beamed. "There _was_, sir, last night," he said gaily, "but there
hain't none now. Clear has ha bell, sir."

"Y' fr'm th' Post?" demanded Lancaster, trying to look severe.

He of the chevrons waved his companions out. "Hi'm from Hingland, sir,"
he answered. "Sergeant Kippis his my name. Will you 'ave some 'soldier's
coffee,' sir?"

Dallas hurried past him and into the newly dug tunnel. Overhead was a
serene sky. Between shack and river lay a dazzling mile of drifts. And
midway, brisket deep, but advancing resolutely, and bugling at every
floundering step, was Simon!

CHAPTER XVI

BACK FROM THE WINTER CAMP

"Well, Captain?" It was partly a greeting full of relief, partly an
eager inquiry, as Colonel Cummings came hurrying out of his library to
meet Oliver in the entry.

The latter straightened a little, but hesitated deprecatingly before
taking the colonel's hand. "I've nothing to report but failure, sir," he
said.

The stinging wind that had blown the command home into barracks, and
scourged the humped shoulders of the men and the thin flanks of their
mounts, had cut the flesh over the captain's high cheek-bones until it
was red and raw. The lower part of his face was hidden under a growth
that matched his drooping moustache. On his forehead and about his eyes,
the skin was a dark sallow, marked by a lattice of deep lines--lines of
worry and weariness.

"Nothing to report but failure," he repeated, and let the orderly pull
off his stiffened overcoat.

"The troop?" asked Colonel Cummings, anxiously.

"All safe." The other hung his cap on a nail, his belt upon his
overcoat.

"Thank Heaven! That storm--I was afraid. Where did it catch you?"

"On the Knife. We put up with some half-breeds. It was hard on the
horses, but a rest for the men."

The colonel led the way into the library.

On his entrance, a figure in the dusk behind the stove sprang up with a
questioning cry. It was young Jamieson.

"Easy, easy, for God's sake!" begged the captain. He put out one arm as
if to ward off a b