A RACE INTO THE NORTH That Meleese loved him, that she had taken his head in her arms, and had kissed him, was the one consuming thought in Howland's brain for many minutes after she had left him bound and gagged on the snow.

That she had made no effort to free him did not at first strike him as significant.

He still felt the sweet, warm touch of her lips, the pressure of her arms, the smothering softness of her hair.

It was not until he again heard approaching sounds that he returned once more to a full consciousness of the mysterious thing that had happened.

He heard first of all the creaking of a toboggan on the hard crust, then the pattering of dogs' feet, and after that the voices of men.