He wished he had picked up Wasson's rifle.

Who was it that had shot them up, anyhow?
The very mystery added to the dread.

Could it have been Dupont?
There was no other conception possible, yet it seemed like a miracle that they could have kept so close on the fellow's trail all night long through the storm.

Yet who else would open fire at sight?
Who else, indeed, would be in this God-forsaken country?
And whoever it was, where had he gone?
How had he disappeared so suddenly and completely?
He could not be far away, that was a certainty.

No plainsman would attempt to ford that icy stream, nor desert the shelter of these bluffs in face of the storm.