George was thinking more about the mail-carrier's movements than about Edgar's.

The English letters should have arrived, and he was anxiously wondering if there were any for him.

Then, as he stopped for breath, a dim moving blur grew out of the prairie, and he flung down his ax.
"Here's West; we'll have light enough to put up the load," he said.
A little later Edgar led two powerful horses up the narrow trail, and for a while the men worked hard, stacking the logs upon the sledge.
Then they set off at the best pace the team could make, and the cold struck through them when they left the bluff.
"Stinging, isn't it ?" Edgar remarked.

"I couldn't get over earlier; Flett turned up, half frozen, and he kept me.

Seems to have some business in this neighborhood, though he didn't say what it is." George, walking through the snow to leeward of the loaded sledge, where it was a little warmer, betrayed no interest in the news.