In an instant he had begun a mad race to the shore a hundred feet ahead of him.

Ten paces more and he would have reached it, when the toe of his snow-shoe caught in a hummock of snow and ice.

For a flash it stopped him, and the moment's pause was fatal.

Before he could throw himself forward on his face in a last effort to save himself, the ice gave way and he plunged through.

In his extremity he thought of DeBar, of possible help even from the outlaw, and a terrible cry for that help burst from his lips as he felt himself going.