little cabin, and with a great sigh of relief he climbed the hill, reached the door, pushed it open and entered. Upon a rude bunk on one side of the room he laid the helpless girl. Tired though he was, he at once started a fire in the little camping-stove, and prepared some food from a supply he always kept on hand. In a short time he had heated some stewed moose meat left from his last meal there, and forced a few spoonfuls between the girl’s firm-set teeth. It was all that he could do except cover her with two thick gray four-point blankets. He stood watching her as she lay there, now asleep, worn out with the fatigue of the night. What was he to do with her? he wondered. Where could he take her? That she needed more attention than he could give her, he was certain. But where could he go for assistance?
Hugo thought of these things as he ate his supper, and afterwards sat smoking near the stove. It felt good to be back once more in the shelter of his own cabin, and but for his worry about the girl he would have felt quite happy. He mused upon the events of the day and wondered how Marion was getting along. He was quite sure that she would go away with the Police, but just where he had no idea. He did not feel so bitter now about being driven forth into the night. If he had remained there with Marion the half-breed girl would surely have perished. During his long sojourn in the wilderness Hugo had often puzzled over the mystery of life. Notwithstanding his spirit of rebellion for man-made law, deep down in his heart there was a profound respect for the unchanging law of Nature. As he journeyed along the trails; as he watched the western sky burnished with the glory of the setting sun; as he faced the furious storms of win-
