Courthorne wheels the black horse round, an' I saw the red line across the face of him." "'You'll be sorry for this, my lad,' says he." "He's a dangerous man," Payne said, thoughtfully.

"Pat, you came near being a -- -- ass that day.

Any way, it's time we went in, and as Larry's here I shouldn't wonder if we saw Courthorne again before the morning." The icy cold went through them to the bone as they left the stables, and it was a relief to enter the loghouse which was heated to fustiness by the glowing stove.

A lamp hung from a rough birch beam, and its uncertain radiance showed motionless figures wrapped in blankets in the bunks round the walls.

Two men were, however, dressing, and one already in uniform sat at a table talking to another swathed in furs, who was from his appearance a prairie farmer.