the door. For a second he listened intently, and when he turned around Marion was surprised at the fierce look in his eyes.
“The Police!” he growled. “They’re coming up the trail! I must be off at once. They’ll look after you.”
“Oh, don’t go,” Marion pleaded. “I don’t want to lose you. Why are you so afraid of the Police?”
Hugo made no reply. He left the room, stepped into his snow-shoes, and ordering the dog to remain behind, plunged into a thicket of firs and jack-pines on the upper side of the cabin. His heart was filled with bitterness and hatred as he moved forward. For years he had been fleeing from the Police, ever hounded from place to place. Formerly it had not mattered so much, as he had refuges to which he could go. But now it was different. He wanted to stay with Marion and give up his endless wandering life. But it could not be. The Police were everywhere, tireless and alert.
Ascending the hill which stretched along back of the cabin, he at length stopped at a spot where he could obtain a fairly good view of what was taking place down below. He saw the Police come to the trail leading to the cabin, where they paused to investigate. He could see Sergeant North advancing alone, so he knew that he would soon be with Marion. That she meant anything to him Hugo had not the least idea. Had he known of their love for each other, his troubles would have been greatly increased. Would Marion tell the sergeant of his whereabouts? What reason would she have for keeping silent?
He thought of all this as he crouched there. Then, knowing that to remain longer would be of no avail, he slipped away, sped along the side of the hill, and crossed the main trail half a mile or more farther on.
