The silence that fell upon them was long and terrible. The guide arose at last, and, without speaking, made some broth from the last of the canned beef, and forced it between the sick man’s lips. When he came back to the fire, Darnell took a silver dollar out of his pocket. “Boys,” he said, brokenly, “I don’t want to be the one to settle this, and I guess none of you do. It is an awful thing to decide. I shall throw this dollar high into the air. If it falls heads up, we go; tails—we stay.” The men had lifted their heads and were watching him. They were all very white; they were all trembling. “Are you willing to decide it in this way?” Each answered, “Yes.” “I swear,” said Darnell, slowly and solemnly, “that I will abide by this decision. Do you all swear the same?” Each, in turn, took the oath. Trembling now perceptibly, Darnell lifted his hand slowly and cast the piece of silver into the air. Their eyes followed its shining course. For a second it disappeared; then it came singing to the earth. Like drunken men they staggered to the spot where it had fallen, and fell upon their knees, staring with straining eyes and bloodless lips. “It is heads,” said Darnell. He wiped the cold perspiration from his brow. At that moment the dog lifted his head and sent a long, mournful howl to die in faint echoes in the mountains across the river. * * * * * At daylight they were ready to start. Snow lay on the ground to a depth of six inches. But a terrible surprise awaited them. At the last moment they discovered that the cook was conscious. “You’re not going—to leave me?” he said, in a whisper. His eyes seemed to be leaping out of their hollow sockets with terror. “Only for a few hours,” said Brotherton, huskily. “Only to find a way out of this,—to make a path over which we can carry you.” “Oh,” he said, faintly; “I thought—— but you wouldn’t. In the name o’ God, don’t leave me to die alone!” They assured him that they would soon return. Then, making him as comfortable as possible, they went,—without hesitation, without one backward look. There was no noise. The snow fell softly and silently through the firs; the river flowed swiftly through its wild banks. The sick man lay with closed eyes, trustfully. But the dog knew. For the first time he left his master. He ran after them, and threw himself before them, moaning. His lifted eyes had a soul in them. He leaped before them, and upon them, licking their hands and clothing; he cast himself prone upon their feet, like one praying. No human being ever entreated for his life so passionately, so pathetically, as that dog pleaded for his master’s.