Gloria was already trying to put out the fire; if ill fortune should lead Brodie's crowd here, it would be just as well if they found no smouldering sticks to tell them that the fugitives had been here so short a time ago and could not be far off. She called to Gratton to help her. He stamped out burning brands while she hastened back and forth, bringing handfuls of snow with which to extinguish the last glowing coals. She worked vigorously and swiftly; he only half-heartedly, since his thoughts were elsewhere. "Maybe," he said thoughtfully, "I'd better bring that bag in here and hide it somewhere--far back in the dark." "No," she said. "Leave it where it is. We must hurry back to the other cave." But he grew stubborn over it. The storm might end at any time; the sun might melt all this fluffy snow; the bag then would be for any one to see. Heedless of her expostulations, he left her extinguishing the fire and went back for the gold. He was gone several minutes, digging after it. She had finished her task when he reappeared, dragging the heavy sack after him. He disappeared swiftly, going into the deeper dark of the further end of the cave; she heard him moving with shuffling feet. What a treacherous, thieving, petty animal he was---- She started and whirled about. There was a new sound in the air, a low mumble, a vague murmur. Men's voices. Outside, coming nearer swiftly, were men. Her first thought was of King; then she knew that it was too soon for him to have gotten out of the mountains, found assistance, and returned. A deep, heavy bass voice drowned out the others; it was like a low-throated growl, ominous, sinister. Gloria whirled again, this time toward the dark into which Gratton had gone. Blindly she hurried after him; she stumbled but kept on. She could hear him at work, hiding his gold. At last she was at his side; she clutched at his sleeve. "Listen!" she whispered. "They are outside. They have followed you!" She felt his arm stiffen as from head to foot he grew rigid. She heard his breath whistling through his nostrils. She could hear the beating of his heart--or was it her own? The voices came nearer, rose higher. Gratton began to shake as with a terrible chill. "If they find me--oh, my God, if they find me--Benny killed a man he thought had the bacon--I had it all the time! My God, Gloria, if they find me----" "Sh!" she commanded. "Be still! Maybe they will go by----" The voices came nearer--passed on. Two or three men out there were speaking at once; then all were silent. The silence lasted so long that Gloria began to breathe again. Surely, surely Brodie and his men had gone---- Then again came Brodie's deep, sinister voice: "Back this way, boys," he shouted. "He's gone in here. We've trapped the dirty white rat." Gloria and Gratton clung to each other, too terrified to move. _Chapter XXVIII_