The Lure of the North

n and the front of the stove glowed a dull red, but the men shivered as the bitter draughts swept in. Thirlwell watched the skin curtain he had nailed ac

ing and reckon the half-breed who sold it me got its value in cartridges and food. Now transport's difficult, I

d be a long and strenuous business to break a trail to the south, and in winter the mine was often cut off from the sett

med. "I haven't seen the thing si

ld Musquash said he'd try to make th

don't think a white man could. But I d

f the skin would arrive, because the old half-breed would meet with many dangers on the way. Thirlwell pictured him hauling his sledge up thinly frozen rivers, crossing wide lakes swept by i

to beg for food," Scott rema

y cold, and for a moment or two a shaggy, white figure, indistinct in the semi-darkness, struggled to close the door. Then there was

a sick man on his hands for three or four days and wants one of us to r

k?" Thirlw

ch claim on us, but Father Lucien's a goo

and tent, but generally returned in winter to a shack near the mine. Scott and Thirlwell had found his society pleasant when they sat round the stove on long cold nights, for the prie

l we draw cuts for

ard the blizzard rage among the tossing pines; but he was curious

rrow if you're wanted," he said, and putting on

would mean death. For some moments the icy gale stopped his breathing, and he stumbled forward, seeing nothing, until he struck a pine, which he seized and leaned against. Looking round, with his back to

tell where he was going; but the Indian plodded on, his white figure showing faintly through the snow. At length, when Thirlwell was nearly exhausted, another sound mingled with the scream of the gale, and he knew it was the turmoil of the Grand Rapid, where the

frozen skin was horribly painful. Then he began to recover and saw that the Indian had gone and Father Lucien sat by a bunk fixed to the wall. The priest wore an old buckskin jacket with a tasseled fringe, and long, soft moccasins, and looked like

ight only that I cannot trust myself to keep awake and neglect just now mig

ty blue blanket on the bunk. Driscoll's face was turned to

atter with St

burning. They went in and found him unconscious, an empty whisky bottle on

probably have cleaned out the shack and left Steve to freeze. I don't know that he'd have been regre

ides, have you often

thing when one of the boys at the mine called him a whisky runner, and I thought

ay mark the turning, and if he lives until daybreak I'll feel hopeful. Bu

was true or not. That's what puzzled me. It

a strange, dark man, but he needs

red, and pulled his chair to the stove when Father Lucie

hought the sound disturbed Driscoll, because he moved and muttered brokenly. Thirlwell, however, could not hear what he said, and getting drowsy with the dry warmth of the stove, struggled to keep awake. He was not sure that he altogether succeeded, for now and then his head fell forward and

ed as if he tried to speak, and Thirlwell thought his brain was clear, but saw next moment that Driscoll was not watching him.

roke," he said hoarsely. "She rolled

range was drowned. His manner hinted that he was trying to excuse himself for something he had done. Shrin

in Driscoll's voice and look had jarred his nerves, and it cost him an effort not to waken Father Lucien. It was not time yet and the priest needed sleep. Driscol

ited, had less trouble to keep awake, and at length roused Father Lucien, as he had been told. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning, the

ter standing for a time beside the bun

disturb him now," he said. "He's slee

the stove got red, and sitting in a corner out

ngely," Thirlwell remarked. "Is a sick

dered brain, but the imagination sometimes centers on and distorts things th

the thing. Somebody-Strange

think he mea

an accident-he could not stop her swinging across the stream-as if he were answering somebody

ent on: "You have been with him for thre

quietly. "You can be trus

nder why the canoe capsized. Were they drunk, or was

it is my business to cure his sickness, but I can go no f

about the capsize, and I'm curious. You see, I me

sitated, and the

de, but worn and stained as if it had been soaked in water. "I found this when I undressed Driscoll," h

oved abruptly. He knew something about ore and saw that the stone

d the silver," Father

, but after all they had no solid foundation, and h

een mistaken about one thing. Is it logical t

es without remorse,

king on a brain disorder

may be superstition, or something greater. I

"Well, I doubt if we will ever kno

know or not. One thing is certain: if wrong has been done, it will be made right

is nothing else to do. In the meantime,

r Lucien told him that Driscoll was better

"I've had enough of watching Steve, and don't mind

e latter knew when to be silent and it would do no good to talk about the matter unless something happened to throw a light upon the