At last the waiting became agony. The sun came up, its light quivering through the snow-shrouded spruces. Below him in the valley he heard teamsters yelping at floundering horses, the grunting "Hup ho!" of sled-tenders, and the chick-chock of axes. It was evident that the visit of Christopher Straight had not created enough of a sensation to divert Pulaski Britt's men from their daily toil. Wade's hurrying thoughts would not allow his common-sense to excuse the old man's continued absence. To go--to tear Elva Barrett from that hateful place--to rush back--what else was there for Straight to do? In the end the goads of apprehension were driving him down the trail towards the camp, regardless of consequences. But when, at the first turn of the road, he saw Christopher plodding towards him, he ran back in sudden tremor. He wanted to think a moment. There was so much to say. The old man came into sight again, near at hand, before Wade had control of the tumult of his thoughts. The sled was empty. Christopher scuffed along slowly, munching a biscuit. "They wouldn't let her go? I--I thought they had made you stay--you were so long!" gasped the young man, trying by words of his own to calm his fear. "She isn't there, Mr. Wade," said the old man, finishing his biscuit, and speaking with an apparent calmness which maddened the young man. This old man, placidly wagging his jaws, seemed a part of the stolid indifference of the woods. "I brought you something to eat, Mr. Wade," Christopher went on. He fumbled at his breast-pocket. "We've got tough work ahead of us. You can't do it on an empty stomach." "My God! what are you saying, Straight?" demanded the young man. "They're lying to you. She is there. She must be. There's no one--" "And I say she isn't there," insisted Christopher, with quiet firmness. "I know what I'm talking about. You're only guessin'." "They lied to you to save themselves." "Mr. Wade, I know woodsmen better than you do. There are a good many things about Colin MacLeod that I don't like. But when it came to a matter of John Barrett's daughter Colin MacLeod would be as square as you or I." "You told them it was John Barrett's daughter?" "I did not," said the old man, stoutly. "There was no need to. If it had been John Barrett's daughter she would have been queening it in those camps when I got there. She hadn't been there. There has been no woman there. Colin MacLeod and his men didn't take Miss Barrett from that tote team. And I've made sure of that point because I knew my men well enough to make sure. She isn't there!" "There is no one else in all these woods to trouble her," declared Wade, brokenly.