His face had gone deathly pale.
But even as the bullet had stung him within an inch of his brain he had not flinched.
"Will you tell me, Croisset ?" This time the black pit of the engineer's revolver centered squarely between the Frenchman's eyes.
"_Non_, M'seur." The eyes of the two men met over the blue steel.

With a cry Howland slowly lowered his weapon.
"Good God, but you're a brave man, Jean Croisset!" he cried.

"I'd sooner kill a dozen men that I know than you!" He rose to his feet and went to the door.

There was still but little snow in the air.

To the north the horizon was growing black with the early approach of the northern night.