He went in to dinner and by the middle of the afternoon was so much improved that he lighted his first cigar and ventured out into the bracing air for a short walk.

At first it occurred to him that he might make inquiries at the Chinese restaurant regarding the identity of the girl whom he had met there, but he quickly changed his mind, and crossing the river he followed the trail which they had taken the preceding night.

For a few moments he contemplated the marks of the conflict in the snow.

Where he had first seen the half-breed there were blotches of blood on the crust.
"Good for Croisset!" Howland muttered; "good for Croisset.

It looks as though he used a knife." He could see where the wounded man had dragged himself up the trail, finally staggering to his feet, and with a caution which he had not exercised a few hours before Howland continued slowly between the thick forest walls, one hand clutching the butt of the revolver in his coat pocket.