He had some trouble to keep the trail when he plunged in among the trees, but day had broken when he reached the clearing, and a faint gray light shone through the haze.  There was no obvious reason why the stranger’s disappearance at the spot should interest him, but his suspicions were quickly excited and it looked as if the fellow had tried to make his acquaintance in order to learn his business in the town.  He had come early, hoping to find footprints that might give him a hint, but was disappointed.  There were a number of marks, but they had lost their sharpness and he could not tell which had been made recently.

In the meantime, the light was growing and he saw that the shack at the foot of the rocks had partly fallen down.  Thick wooden beams and props lay beside the ironwork he had noticed on his last visit.  It was obvious that he was looking at a mineral claim that had been abandoned after some development work had been done, while the trampled snow indicated that somebody had been removing the material not long since.  Passing the heap of rusty iron, from which the snow was beginning to shrink, he found a narrow opening in the foot of the hill.  This was a test adit, and the tilt of the strata indicated that its slope was steep.  The stone that had been taken out showed that it did not penetrate far, and Foster saw no reason for entering.

He next studied the rocks, and although he saw no path, imagined that one could get up that way, but could not see why anybody should wish to do so, and the snow did not seem to have been disturbed.  After a minute or two he turned back into the wood with a gesture of disappointment.

The man he had followed had apparently come there to meet somebody, but although the mine was conveniently near the town it was a cold and cheerless spot for a rendezvous, Foster surmised from this that secrecy was important, but after all there was nothing to indicate that the matter had anything to do with him.  As he went back he heard a musical humming in the tops of the pines and a lump of wet snow, slipping from a branch, struck his face.  The humming grew louder until the wood was filled with sound, and he began to feel clammy and hot.  A warm Chinook wind from the Pacific was sweeping up the valley, driving back the frost.

When he reached the town the snow was wet and the lights were out, but the post office was open, and having telegraphed his new address, he went in to ask if there was any mail for him.  A girl was busy behind a lettered brass wicket, but did not look up, and Foster saw the man in whom he was interested standing among some others farther along the counter.  The fellow came towards him.

“Been for a walk?” he said.  “You get up early.”

“I’m used to that,” Foster answered with a careless smile.  “Anyhow, I want my mail, and you enjoy breakfast better if you’ve been out first.”

“Sure thing,” agreed the other.  “But you want to put on rubber shoes when a Chinook wind strikes this town.”