"You think so?"
"I know it."
"All the more reason that I should hear it with Anderton. There is much more behind all this than you know, Helen."
"Perhaps I guess something of what lies behind."
"I do not think you can. It is an extraordinary story, and there will be a dénouement presently that will surprise Ainley. Come!"
They moved forward together, found the dogs, and having righted the sledge by which they had been anchored, they returned to the camp. Ainley, pipe in hand, apparently quite cool, was talking. He gave one glance at the couple as they re-entered the circle of light, watched Stane for a moment as he stooped to unharness the dogs, and then continued the story he had been telling glibly and evenly.
"Having got the news, I made straight for the cabin, and had the ill-luck to arrive there half an hour too late. One of the men found a dead man, who, from the description, I mistook for Stane there, and we also found a wounded Indian, who, with a little persuasion, told us what he knew, which was that a half-breed, of the name of Chigmok, inflamed with love for Miss Yardely, had carried her off, designing to make her his squaw. I understand this Chigmok is what the Indians call a bad man—but perhaps you know him?"
He broke off and looked directly at Anderton as he spoke, and waited for a reply. The mounted policeman nodded, and as casually as he could replied: "Yes, I have met him. He is—no good."
As the policeman replied, Helen, who was watching Ainley's face, saw a subtle change come over it. For one moment it lost its assurance and a flicker of doubt came in the eyes. The girl divined that he had suddenly grown uncertain of his ground, and to her it was noticeable that after Anderton's reply Ainley's glibness left him, and that he spoke hesitatingly, haltingly, with frequent pauses, like a man uncertain of his words.
"Then, by all accounts, you have met a regular rogue, Anderton! But to resume, the Indian told us that Chigmok had carried off Miss Yardely. Under pressure he told also the place for which the half-breed was making, a desolate district, little travelled—the Lake of the Little Moose. Know it?"