But he could not compel himself to go on--or back.

SOMETHING WAS COMING! He was as positive of it as he was of the fact that night was giving place to day.

Yet he could see nothing--hear nothing.

It was light enough now for him to see movement fifty yards away, and he kept his eyes fastened on the little open across which their trail had come.

If Olaf Anderson the Swede had been there he might have told him of another night like this, and another vigil.