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The Trail of the Golden Horn

He then rose to his feet and paced up and down the small room. Several times he went to the door and looked out in the direction where the women were camped. An uneasy feeling was tugging at his heart which he could not banish. He called himself a fool, blew out the candles, and threw himself down again upon the bunk. But he could not sleep. His thoughts were ever down the trail as he pictured those two women alone in the night. Perhaps more wolves had returned, for he knew that several packs were on the move of late. And if not wolves, there were creatures more to be feared where helpless women were concerned. It was most unlikely that men would be prowling around, he reasoned. But who could tell? The absence of those women must surely be known at Big Chance, and there were men there capable of any deed of villainy.

At length he sprang to his feet, pulled on his heavy outer jacket and cap, seized his snow-shoes, and ordering the dog to stay behind, he left the cabin, and hurried down the trail. It took him but a few minutes to come near the camping ground, where he moved most cautiously, peering keenly ahead. Although he approached most silently, the dogs scented his presence. They leaped to their feet and growled ferociously. Hugo paid little heed to the brutes, his attention being centred upon a lone figure huddled before the fire. Instinctively he realised that something was the matter, so stepping into the circle of light he rapidly approached. Marion saw him coming, recognized him at once, and with a cry of joy sprang to her feet. So overcome was she that she tottered and would have fallen had not Hugo leaped forward and caught her in his arms. Just for a few luxurious seconds he held her close, and