They came into the canyon at last and turned downward toward the spot where camp had been pitched that day, which seemed so long ago, and yet was not yet a week in the past. Snow was falling, clouding the air with a baffling mist, but they could see, dotted everywhere along the sides of the canyon, the flickering fires where the miners had camped on their claims. Around them came the muffled voices of men, free with profanity. Here and there the shadow of a tent loomed up, or a more solid bulk spoke of roughly built shacks of logs and canvas. Faint laughter and, once or twice, the sound of loud quarreling was heard. It all seemed weirdly unreal and remote as though they rode through an alien, fourth dimensional world with which they had no connection. The snow crunched softly under the feet of the horses. But as they progressed, the houses or shacks grew thicker until it appeared that they were traversing the rough semblance of a street. Mud sloshed under the hoofs of the horses instead of snow, and a black ribbon of it stretched ahead of them. Mistily on the sides loomed dimly lighted canvas walls or dark hulks of logs. The sound of voices was more frequent and insistent down here, though most of it seemed to come from some place ahead. In the hope that she would push on through the camp Sucatash followed the girl. They came at last to a long, dim bulk, glowing with light from a height of about six feet and black below that level. From this place surged a raucous din of voices, cursing, singing and quarreling. A squeaky fiddle and a mandolin uttered dimly heard notes which were tossed about in the greater turmoil. Stamping feet made a continuous sound, curiously muffled. "What is this?" said Solange, drawing rein before the place. "Ma'am, you better come along," replied Sucatash. "I reckon the bootleggers and gamblers have run in a load of poison and started a honkatonk. If that's it, this here dive is sure no place for peaceable folks like us at this time o' night." "But it is here that these desperate men who will kill may be found, is it not?" Solange asked. "You can sure find 'em as bad as you want 'em, in there. But you can't go in there, ma'am! My God! That place is _hell_!" "Then it is the place for me," said Solange. She swung down from her horse and walked calmly to the dimly outlined canvas door, swung it back and stepped inside. CHAPTER XXII VENGEANCE!