UNSEEN DANGER Once he paused, blinded by the snow, flung up his arm, and fired, imagining he saw the dim shape of a man on the ridge summit.

There was no return shot, no visible movement.

Reckless, mad with rage, he sprang up the wind-swept side, and reached the crest.

It was deserted, except for tracks already nearly obliterated by the fierce wind.
Helpless, baffled, the Sergeant stared about him into the driving flakes, his ungloved, stiffening hand gripping the cold butt of his Colt, ready for any emergency.

Nothing but vacancy and silence encompassed him.