The Glenwood post., 1921-02-26
CHAPTER III.

Dan Failing was never more thank
full for his unerring sense of direction.
He struck off at a forty-five-degree
angle between their late course and
direct road to the river, and he kept
| it as If by surveyors line. All the
old devices of the wilderness-the
ridge on ridge that looked just alike.
inclines that to the casual eye looked
| like downward slopes, streams that
vanished beneath the snow, and the
snow-mist blowing across the face of
the landmarks--could not avail
against him.
| A half dozen of the wolves followed
him at first But perhaps their fierce
eyes marked his long stride and his
powerful body and decided that their
better chance was with the helpless
man and the girl beside the Pickering
fire. They turned back, one by one.
Dan kept straight on and in two hours
crossed Cranston's trail. He didn't
doubt but that he would find Gran
ston in his camp, If he found the camp
at all. The man had certainly re-
turned to 1t Immediately after setting
fire to the buildings, If for no other
reason than for food. 1t isn't well
to be abroad on the wintry mountains
without a supply of food; and Gran
ston would certainly know this fact.
Dan didn't know when a rifle bullet
from some camp In the thickets would
put an abrupt end to his advance. The
brush grew high by the river, the ele-
y IL al n,,l
there might be one hundred camps out
of the sight of the casual wayfaren
If Cranston should see him. mushine
across the moonlit snow, It would give
him the most savage joy to open fire
upon him with his rifle.
Dams keen eyes searched the thick
cts, and particularly they watched the
sky line for faint glare that might
mean a camp fire. He tried to walk
silently. 1t wasn't an easy thing to
do with awkward snowshoes; but the
river drowned the little noise that he
made. He tried to take advantage of
the shelter of the thickets and the
trees. Then, at the base of little
ridge, he came to a sudden halt.
He had estimated just right. MOI
two hundred yards distant. camp
fire flickered and glowed in the shell
ter of a great log. He saw 1t. by the
most astounding good fortune, through
a little rift in the trees. Ten feet on
either side, and It was obscured.
He lost no time. He did not know
when the wolves about SnOwbird's
camp would lose the last of their
cowardice. Yet he knew he must keep
tight grip on his self-control and
not let the necessity of haste cost him
his victory. He crept forward, step
by STEP placing his snowshoes with
consummate care. When he was one
hundred yards distant he saw that
Cranston's camp was situated beside
( a little stream that flowed into the
river and that-like the mOuntaineer
he was-he had built large lean-to
reinforced with snowbanks. The fire
burned at Its opening. Cranston was
not In sight; either he was absent
from camp or asleep In his lean-to.
The latter seemed the more likely.
Dan made wide detour. coming In
about thirty yards behind the construc-
ton. Still he moved with incredible
caution. Never in his life had he nos.
sessed a greater mastery over bis own
nerves. His heart leaped somewhat
fast In his own breast; but this was
the only wasted motion. 1t isn't easy
TO advance through such thickets with.
out ever n misstep. without the rustic
VI n branch or the crack of q twig.
Certain of the wild creatures find 4,
easy but men hive forgotten how in
TOO mony centuries NJ cities and farms
II is hardly human quality and n
spectator would have found n rather
chastity fascination in watching the
1.-THE motions the psssionless face the
hands tbot didn't shake nj oI Ru,
there we're no spectntors-unless the
little band Of wolves stroppIers from