“Nothing to be afraid of, Miss Pearson,” he said blandly. “There’s a fire in camp. I want to get in to save the books and papers.” “Is that why you sent Tilly away this morning?” said Toppy quietly, coming up behind him. Reivers turned with a start. “Hello, Treplin!” he said, recovering himself instantly. “No hard feelings, I hope.” His manner was so at ease that Toppy was thrown off his guard. “I won’t make the mistake of fighting with you any more, Treplin,” continued Reivers. “Look at the way you’ve spoiled my nose. You ought to fix that up for me. Look at it.” He came closer and pointed with two fingers to his broken nose. Toppy, unsuspecting, leaned forward. Before he could move head or arms Reivers’ two hands had shot out and fastened like two iron claws upon his unprotected throat. “Now, —— you!” hissed Reivers. “Tear me loose or kiss your life good-by.” And Toppy tried to tear him loose—tried with a desperation born of the sudden knowledge that his life depended upon it; and failed. The Snow-Burner had got his death-hold. His arms were like bars of steel; his fingers yielded no more to Toppy’s tugging than claws of moulded iron. “Struggle, —— you! Fight, —— you!” hissed Reivers. “That’s right; die hard; for, by ——, you’re done now!” The eyes seemed starting from Toppy’s head. His brains seemed to be bursting. He felt a strange emptiness in his chest. Things went red, then they began to go black. He made one final futile attempt. He felt his legs sinking, felt his whole body sagging, felt that the end had come; then heard as if far away the office-door fly open, heard the girl crying—— “Stop, Mr. Reivers, or I’ll shoot!” Then the roar of a shot. He felt the hands loosen on his throat, swayed and fell sidewise as the whole world turned black. He opened his eyes soon and saw by the light of the rising flames that Campbell was running toward him. In the doorway of the office stood the girl, her left hand over her eyes, Campbell’s big black revolver in her right. Down the road, with strange, drunken steps, Reivers was running toward the river. Behind him ran half a dozen men armed with axes screaming his name in rage, but Reivers, despite his queer gait, was distancing his pursuers. It was some time before Toppy grasped the significance of these sights. Then he remembered. “You—you saved me,” he said clumsily, rising to his feet. The girl dropped the revolver and burst into a fit of sobbing. “’Twas aye handy I thought of giving her the gun and telling her to keep the door locked,” said Campbell. “Do you go in, lassie. All’s well. Go in.” “Eh? What’s this?” he cried, for in spite of her sobbing she drew sharply away from his sheltering arm as he tried to usher her indoors.