He had squatted down before the fire, his long rifle across his knees, and spoke as quietly as though he was talking of a partridge or a squirrel instead of a human being.  He wormed a hand into one of his pockets and produced a small dark object which he handed to Aldous The other felt an uncanny chill as it touched his fingers.  It was a mis-shapened bullet.

“Doc gave me the lead,” continued MacDonald coolly, beginning to slice a pipeful of tobacco from a tar-black plug.  “It come from Joe’s gun.  I’ve hunted with him enough to know his bullet.  He fired through the window of the cabin.  If it hadn’t been for the broom handle—­just the end of it stickin’ up”—­he shrugged his gaunt shoulders as he stuffed the tobacco into the bowl of his pipe—­“I’d been dead!” he finished tersely.

“You mean that Joe——­”

“Has sold himself to Culver Rann!” exclaimed MacDonald.  He sprang to his feet.  For the first time he showed excitement.  His eyes blazed with repressed rage.  A hand gripped the barrel of his rifle as if to crush it.  “He’s sold himself to Culver Rann!” he repeated.  “He’s sold him our secret.  He’s told him where the gold is, Johnny!  He’s bargained to guide Rann an’ his crowd to it!  An’ first—­they’re goin’ to kill us!”

With a low whistle Aldous took off his hat.  He ran a hand through his blond-gray hair.  Then he replaced his hat and drew two cigars from his pocket.  MacDonald accepted one.  Aldous’ eyes were glittering; his lips were smiling.

“They are, are they, Donald?  They’re going to kill us?”

“They’re goin’ to try,” amended the old hunter, with another curious chuckle in his ghostly beard.  “They’re goin’ to try, Johnny.  That’s why I told you not to go to the cabin.  I wasn’t expecting you for a week.  To-morrow I was goin’ to start on a hike for Miette.  I been watching through my telescope from the mountain up there.  I see Quade come in this morning on a hand-car.  Twice I see him and Rann together.  Then I saw Blackton hike out into the bush.  I was worrying about you an’ wondered if he had any word.  So I laid for him on the trail—­an’ I guess it was lucky.  I ain’t been able to set my eyes on Joe.  I looked for hours through the telescope—­an’ I couldn’t find him.  He’s gone, or Culver Rann is keeping him out of sight.”

For several moments Aldous looked at his companion in silence.  Then he said: 

“You’re sure of all this, are you, Donald?  You have good proof—­that Joe has turned traitor?”

“I’ve been suspicious of him ever since we come down from the North,” spoke MacDonald slowly.  “I watched him—­night an’ day.  I was afraid he’d get a grubstake an’ start back alone.  Then I saw him with Culver Rann.  It was late.  I heard ‘im leave the shack, an’ I followed.  He went to Rann’s house—­an’ Rann was expecting him.  Three times I followed him to Culver Rann’s house.  I knew what was happening then, an’ I planned to get him back in the mountains on a hunt, an’ kill him.  But I was too late.  The shot came through the window.  Then he disappeared.  An’—­Culver Rann is getting an outfit together!  Twenty head of horses, with grub for three months!”