"It would make things worse to scatter." He raised his voice.

"Come back, before your tracks fill up!" The silence that followed filled them with alarm; but while they listened in strained suspense a faint call came out of the snow.

The words were indistinguishable, but the voice had an exultant note in it.
"He has found the trail!" Blake exclaimed with deep relief.
It was difficult to see the print of Benson's shoes, and Harding could not move a step alone, but they called out at intervals as Blake slowly helped him along, and at last a shadowy object loomed in front of them.
As they came up, Benson pointed to a slight depression.
"We can follow it if it gets no fainter; but there's no time to lose," he said.

"It might be safer if I went first and kept my eye on the trail." He shuffled forward with lowered head, while Blake came behind, helping Harding as best he could.

All three long remembered the next half-hour.