Constance gave a start, and a look of fear came into her face.
"Do you think my father is as bad as that?" she asked.
"Yes, I am afraid so, and it is important that you should leave this place, and go back to your comfortable cabin at Klassan. Pete will take you, and in two weeks' time I think your father will be able to stand the journey, if great care is used. Will you consent to this?"
For a while Constance did not answer, and Keith knew she was weighing everything most carefully, and struggling for self-control.
"Mr. Steadman," she calmly replied, holding out her hand, "I feel I can trust you, so please do whatever you think is best."
Keith took her hand in his own strong one, and held it for an instant, as he looked into her brave face. Neither spoke for a time, but into each heart crept a joy, like a pure, fresh, dew-touched flower, tucked away in some hidden dell, with only the eye of God resting upon it.
An hour later Keith drew away from Siwash Creek for his long run to Klassan. The dogs bounded merrily over the snow, shaking their little bells, glad of the race in the keen, frosty air. Keith could hardly believe it possible that such a short time before he had plodded over that same trail, weary and sick at heart. A new life now possessed him, and he sang snatches of old songs and hymns, cheered the dogs, and at times laughed aloud at the mere joy of living.
But the travelling was hard, and the second day had closed before the lights of Klassan gleamed in the distance. The dogs were tired as they drew near the village, with their master trudging wearily behind, urging them on with words of encouragement. The trail ran close by Perdue's store, and the animals, hearing voices within, paused before the door, while the leader cast a backward glance at the missionary. The only answer he received to his appealing look was the command to "mush on," for Keith had no intention of halting there. He had advanced but a few yards, however, when the report of a revolver fell upon his ears, then a cry of pain, and a confused noise within the building. Suddenly the door was flung open, and a number of men rushed out, and stood huddled together in a little group, talking in the most excited manner.
Feeling sure that something was wrong, Keith left his dogs and retraced his steps to where the men were gathered.
"It's hard luck for the kid," he heard one say. "He was a sharp 'un, and we'll miss him."