"I'm invited to breakfast at the Blacktons', Mac.

How the devil am I going to get out of it ?" "Tell 'em you're sick," chuckled the old hunter, who saw something funny in the appearance of Aldous' face.

"Good Lord, how I'd liked to have seen you come through that window--in daylight!" Aldous led off in the direction of the trail.

MacDonald followed close behind him.

It was dark--that almost ebon-black hour that precedes summer dawn in the northern mountains.