Barry was thinking and thinking hard.

A moment later-- "How's the patient ?" It was a new voice, one which Barry Houston remembered from years agone, when he, a wide-eyed boy in his father's care, first had viewed the intricacies of a mountain sawmill, had wandered about the bunk houses, and ridden the great, skidding bobsleds with the lumberjacks in the spruce forests, on a never-forgotten trip of inspection.

It was Thayer, the same Thayer that he once had looked upon with all the enthusiasm and pride of boyhood, but whom he now viewed with suspicion and distrust.

Thayer had brought him out here, without realizing it.

Yet Thayer had known that he was on the way.
And Thayer must be combatted--but how?
The voice went on, "Gained consciousness yet ?" "No." The girl had answered.