He was running at the head of a splendid team--six dogs of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police--and his master was calling him Pedro! The scene shifted.

They were in camp.

His master was young and smooth-faced and he helped from the sledge another man whose hands were fastened in front of him by curious black rings.

Again it was later--and he was lying before a great fire.

His master was sitting opposite him, with his back to a tent, and as he looked, there came out of the tent the man with the black rings--only now the rings were gone and his hands were free, and in one of them he carried a heavy club.