A puff of wind eddied the smoke-screen and Lou Gordon dropped her eye to the sights of her rifle. The man she had so long feared--the man who had, in cold blood, murdered _Huloimee Tilakum_ stood as he had stood before the smoke and flames had blotted him from her sight. Her finger tightened upon the trigger. The next instant the rifle was lowered and with face pressed close to the glass the girl was staring wide-eyed through the window. Another form had leaped into view behind the form of Dalzene. The words with which the man was taunting her ended in a hoarse cry of fear--and two bodies were struggling in the snow! A blur of motion caught the corner of the girl’s eye and she turned her head to see the man with the rifle rushing to Dalzene’s assistance. Crossing the room at a bound, she hurled the heavy bar aside, flung the door open, raised her rifle, and fired. The man with the rifle staggered a few steps, and regaining his balance, turned toward her, bringing his rifle to his shoulder. Again she fired and the man sagged slowly at the knees and crumpled into the snow. As the door opened Skookum sprang past his mistress with a hoarse growl of fury. Upon the bank of the creek the two struggling figures had regained their feet. Neither had been able to recover the six gun. At the sound of shots they sprang apart and stared at the man in the snow. The next instant the air was rent by a thin, shrill scream. The most blood-curdling sound MacShane had ever heard--coming as it did from the throat of a full-grown man--a cry so awful in its abandon of abject soul-terror as to cause a prickling sensation at the roots of his hair. Hardly had the shriek left the man’s lips than a great tawny shape hurtled through the air and MacShane gazed in horror as the gleaming white fangs that studded the cavernous yawning mouth closed with an audible crunch upon the man’s face. The great dog’s momentum carried him past, as he bowled the man into the snow. Strange, inarticulate sounds came from the writhing body and MacShane, after one horrified glance turned away. The man in struggling to rise turned his head toward him and where his face had been living eyeballs bulged from their sockets and between two naked, flesh-stripped rows of teeth a living tongue writhed in audible mouthings. The great dog sprang again--and MacShane rushed to the girl. “Quick!” he cried, “We can save the cabin yet!” and with his bare hands began to tear the blazing boughs from the wall. Side by side they worked, tearing away the brush and throwing snow on the blazing eaves. The thick logs of the cabin wall, already smoking, were easily extinguished with snow. MacShane rubbed a handful of snow upon the last glowing coal and as he turned from the wall his eyes met the eyes of Lou Gordon--those wondrous dark eyes that were living wells of--_love_! The next instant his arms were about her and the tears from those dark eyes were wetting his cheeks.