He looked up, for there was a knock at the door and a man who had gone down to the settlements came in.  His skin cap was pulled down to meet the collar of his coat, leaving only his eyes and nose exposed, and fine frost-dried snow stuck to the shaggy furs.

“It’s surely fierce to-night,” he said.  “Thought we couldn’t make it when we met the wind on Loon Lake, but there was no shelter on the beach and our tea had run out.  I brought a letter for Mr. Thirlwell along.”

“Nothing else?” Scott asked.

The man said there was nothing, and when he went away Scott smiled.

“Well, that’s a relief!  I had expected a reminder that we hadn’t paid our last bill for tools.  But I guess you want to read your letter.”

Thirlwell felt a thrill of satisfaction as he recognized the hand, for it was some time since Agatha had written to him.  He got thoughtful as he read the letter, and when he had finished put it down and lighted his pipe.

“I’d like you to listen to this and tell me what you think,” he said.

Scott make a sign of agreement, and when Thirlwell had read Agatha’s account of her meeting with the burglar and Stormont, he remarked:  “It’s a nice frank letter, and Miss Strange has some talent for dramatic narrative.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Thirlwell, with an impatient frown.  “What d’you think about Stormont’s visit?”

“On the whole, I imagine Miss Strange ran less risk of being robbed when she met the burglar.”

“So I think.  But why did the fellow go?”

Scott looked thoughtful.  “Though Stormont’s said to be a rogue, he’s certainly not a fool.  You seem to take it for granted that Strange never found the lode, but I’m not sure.  Anyhow, it looks as if Stormont didn’t agree with you.”

“But how did he hear about the lode?”

“It’s not very plain, but I have a suspicion.  There’s a curious thing; I don’t see much difference between Stormont’s object and the burglar’s.  Both seemed to want the letters Strange wrote to the girl.”

“Now I come to think of it, perhaps there wasn’t much difference.  The fellow stole nothing, although he broke open the writing-table and Miss Strange’s trunk.  She says he disturbed nothing else.  But the matter gets no clearer.”

Scott smiled.  “My explanation is that Stormont tried to buy the letters after he found they couldn’t be stolen.”

“But he’d have to trust the man he hired to break into the house; and this would put him in the fellow’s power.”

“I reckon the man told him about the lode; Miss Strange states that he was lame,” Scott remarked in a meaning tone.  “Where has Black Steve been since he left this neighborhood?”

Thirlwell started.  “It’s possible you have got near the truth.  Nobody knows as much as Driscoll about Strange’s prospecting.  But I must answer the letter.  What am I to say?”

“If you tell her to have nothing to do with Stormont, it ought to be enough in the meantime,” Scott replied.  “You could send down your answer when, the next Hudson’s Bay breeds come along.”