Philip made no effort to follow. For two or three minutes he stood
like a man turned suddenly into hewn rock, staring with unseeing
eyes into the gloom where Jeanne had disappeared. Then he walked
back to the edge of the spruce. There he drew his revolver, and
cocked it. The starlight revealed a madness in his face as he
approached Thorpe's cabin. He was smiling, but it was such a smile
as presages death; a smile as implacable as fate itself.
XXI
As Philip approached the cabin he saw a figure stealing away
through the gloom. His first thought was that he had returned a
minute too late to wreak his vengeance upon the gang-foreman in
his own home, and he quickened his steps in pursuit. The man ahead
of him was cutting direct for the camp supply-house, which was the
nightly rendezvous of those who wished to play cards or exchange
camp gossip. The supply-house, aglow with light, was not more than
two hundred yards from Thorpe's, and Philip saw that if he dealt
out the justice he contemplated he had not a moment to lose. He
began to run, so quickly that he approached within a dozen paces
of the man he was pursuing without being heard. It was not until
then that he made a discovery which stopped him.
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