"I am quite sure that Ainley has started on the longest trail of all. Why didn't he take dogs? How long can he last in this wilderness without? And as you say outside the wood it must be snowing heavily—which way has he gone?"
"His tracks are on the backward trail——"
"To the open country—and in a blizzard. Anderton, old man, let him go. You must guess what he is about——"
"Maybe I do," answered Anderton quietly.
"And you'll only be wasting your strength for nothing."
"I hope to God you're right!" broke out the policeman vehemently. "But all the same I've got to follow him—Duty's duty—but you don't suppose I'm keen on taking an old pal to be hanged at Regina. I'm glad Ainley had the sense and grit to take the long trail on his own. But I'm bound to try and stop him; though I thank heaven that he has an hour's start. Now I must go. Keep your eye on Chigmok, he stands for my honour and credit much more than Ainley, because of his original crime. So long!"
He turned away and disappeared into the forest on the backward trail with Jean Bènard, and half an hour afterwards Helen emerged from her tent to find him bent over Ainley's pocket-book with a troubled look in his eyes.
"What is it?" she asked looking round. "Where is Mr. Ainley and where are——"
"Ainley went away in the night. The others have gone after him. They will not catch him—at least I pray not."
"You think he will get away?"