Five miles farther on, Lou Gordon had come suddenly upon them, and all the hate of his warped soul leaped into Dalzene’s brain. Helpless she was, unarmed and completely at his mercy. He took fiendish delight in taunting her. When she mentioned the man who had passed on the trail, it was his devilish ingenuity alone that prompted him to concoct the lie about killing him. He divined that it would cause her pain--so he told her the man was dead. And he had gloated as the sound of the girl’s shriek rose on the air. That cry was music to the ears of Dalzene, and he chuckled all the way up the creek as his inflamed brain dwelt upon the pain that had showed in her eyes. She could not escape him. Old Man Gordon would be no match for him and his convict companion. So, as he mushed he laughed. Just before reaching the cabin, Dalzene paused, and unlashing the rifle from the sled, passed it to the other. About his own waist he strapped a belt from which dangled a six gun in a holster. Then, keeping the door in sight, they separated and cautiously advanced toward the cabin. “Open up, Gordon!” he called, “Open up, an’ we’ll make a dicker.” There was no response from the interior, and Dalzene drew nearer. Pausing, he examined the snow, passing completely around the cabin, and walking to the boiler. Then he returned and took a position near the door. “So that’s the way of it!” he called, “The old man ain’t here! He ain’t be’n here since the last snow! So, yer here alone, eh?” Within the cabin Lou Gordon gripped her rifle and answered: “I expect dad any minute!” “You do, do you? Well, it’s be’n a good many minutes since he was here, an’ I guess he won’t be bustin’ in on our party. If he does he’ll git his’n like the stranger did back on the trail.” Inside the cabin, the girl’s lips pressed into a straight white line, and her fingers gripped the rifle till the knuckles whitened. If she could only shoot! But the same log walls that protected her, protected her besiegers also. She wished now she had followed her first plan to lie in wait for them outside, but she had overestimated Dalzene’s cunning. She had figured that he would divide his forces, and that she would be struck down from behind before she could kill him. The heavily frosted panes of the windows gave her no chance to shoot from the cabin. The dog kennels attracted Dalzene’s eye, and with a curse, he gripped his revolver and lurched toward them. “You kin say good bye to yer big lead dog, now!” he taunted. “I’ll fix him, fer chawin’ the hand off me! Damn him, he’s where he can’t git at me an’ I’ll shoot him all to pieces before I kill him.” At the girl’s side, in the cabin, Skookum sniffed the air suspiciously and a low growl rumbled in his throat, as the hair bristled upon his back. “Oh, why didn’t you kill him, Skookum?” whispered the girl in desperation.