Now, the last thing in the world Dalzene wanted to do was to kill a man. Yet, he well knew that unless his dogs got a good rest they would never make Dall River through the deep snow. And he knew, also, that should the pursuers swing onto the toboggan trail that left the river, and come upon him in his camp, they would without the slightest hesitation make short shrift of him. “It’s them ’er me if they take my trail, no matter which way you look at it,” he muttered. “An’ if they ain’t more’n four or five of ’em it’s goin’ to be them.” A half-hour’s tramp brought him to the rim of a high bluff which he followed to a point that gave an uninterrupted view of the Bettles trail, of the point of departure of his own toboggan trail, and of the narrow creek valley that the toboggan trail traversed. Concealing himself behind a screen of scrub bushes, the man noted with satisfaction that anyone traversing the valley must pass within easy range of his rifle, with absolutely no chance to seek cover, or to scale the bluff and come to close quarters. “An’ they can’t work no sled up through that deep snow, neither,” he grinned. “If they tackle that trail it’ll be back-packin’--an’ they won’t git far. The way things lays, I’m good fer a dozen of ’em. But--at that--I don’t want to have to do it. Someone would git me--some time--an’ when they did--” his voice trailed into silence, and he shuddered. The sky was cloudless, and far to the southward, from his vantage point, he could see the red disk of the sun, visible for a few minutes above the horizon. He watched it till it disappeared. “Hell of a country, this here, north of the circle,” he growled, “Daylight all summer, an’ night all winter. Nome’s better’n what this is, anyway. I’ll lay up in the cabin fer a couple weeks, an’ then I’ll hit fer the Kobuk, an’ on to Nome. I got plenty grub an’ dog feed to last.” For some minutes after the sun went down the man scrutinized the up-river trail. He shivered. “Gittin’ colder,” he muttered, “Damn ’em! They chased me off the river, an’ now the strong cold’s comin’ on, an’ me in the God fersakenest strip of country they is anywheres. I bet she’s fifty below down there on the river, right now.” He rose to his feet and took a turn up and down the snow, taking care to keep well back from the rim of the bluff. This performance he repeated at intervals, pausing behind his screen to peer into the deepening twilight of the up-river trail. After a couple of hours his vigil was rewarded. A dark spot appeared on the snow, and concentrating his gaze the man saw that the spot was moving. It was a dog outfit coming down the trail. Grasping his rifle, Dalzene threw himself upon his belly and peered over the edge. He made out two men and a dog team. At the parting of the trails they stopped to examine the fresh toboggan track. After some moments they walked back to the sled. They were--yes--they were moving on down the river. Breathing an oath of relief as they passed out of