The girl was passing swiftly down the main street when he took up the pursuit.  Suddenly she turned into a path dug through the snow that led riverward.  Ahead of her there was only the starlit gloom of night and the distant blackness of the wilderness edge.  Philip’s blood ran a little faster.  She had expected that he would follow, knew that he was close behind her, and had turned down into this deserted place that they might not be observed!  He made no effort now to overtake her, but kept the same distance between them, whistling carelessly and knowing that she would stop to wait for him.  Ahead of them there loomed up out of the darkness a clump of sapling spruce, and into their shadow the girl disappeared.

A dozen paces more and Philip himself was buried in the thick gloom.  He heard quick, light footsteps in the snow-crust ahead of him.  Then there came another sound—­a step close behind him, a noise of disturbed brush, a low voice which was not that of a woman, and before his hand could slip, to the holster at his belt a human form launched itself upon him from the side, and a second form from behind, and under their weight he fell a helpless heap into the snow.  Powerful hands wrenched his arms behind his back and other hands drew a cloth about his mouth.  A stout cord was twisted around his wrists, his legs were tied, and then his captors relieved him of their weight.

Not a word had been spoken during the brief struggle.  Not a word was spoken now as his mysterious assailants hoisted him between them and followed in the footsteps of the woman.  Scarcely a hundred paces beyond the spruce the dark shadow of a cabin came into view.  Into this he was carried and placed on something which he took to be a box.  Then a light was struck.

For the first time Philip’s astonished eyes had a view of his captors.  One of them was an old man, a giant in physique, with a long gray beard and grayish yellow hair that fell to his shoulders.  His companion was scarcely more than a boy, yet in his supple body, as he moved about, Philip recognized the animal-like strength of the forest breed.  A word spoken in a whisper by the boy revealed the fact that the two were father and son.  From that side of the room which was at Philip’s back they dragged forth a long pine box, and were engaged in this occupation when the door opened and a third man entered.  Never had Philip looked on a more unprepossessing face than that of the newcomer, in whose little black eyes there seemed to be a gloating triumph as he leered at the prisoner.  He was short, with a huge breadth of shoulders.  His eyes and mouth and nose were all but engulfed in superfluous flesh, and as he turned from Philip to the man and boy over the box he snapped the joints of his fingers in a startling manner.

“Howdy, howdy!” he wheezed, like one afflicted with asthma.  “Good! good!” With these four words he lapsed into the silence of the older man and the boy.