“Better lay quiet until morning,” he expostulated.  “You’d better listen to me, an’ do that, Johnny.  I’ve got something in my shoulder that tells me you’d better!”

In the face of the old hunter’s misgiving, Aldous prepared to leave.  It was nearly ten o’clock when he set back in the direction of Tete Jaune, Donald accompanying him as far as the moonlit amphitheatre in the forest.  There they separated, and Aldous went on alone.

He believed that Joanne and the Blacktons would half expect him to return to the bungalow after he had seen MacDonald.  He was sure that Blackton, at least, would look for him until quite late.  The temptation to take advantage of their hospitality was great, especially as it would bring him in the company of Joanne again.  On the other hand, he was certain that this first night in Tete Jaune held very large possibilities for him.  The detective instinct in him was roused, and his adventurous spirit was alive for action.  First of all, he wanted proof of what MacDonald had told him.  That an attempt had been made to assassinate the old mountaineer he did not for an instant doubt.  But had Joe DeBar, the half-breed, actually betrayed them?  Had he sold himself to Culver Rann, and did Rann hold the key to the secret expedition they had planned into the North?  He did not, at first, care to see Rann.  He made up his mind that if he did meet him he would stop and chat casually with him, as though he had heard and seen nothing to rouse his suspicions.  He particularly wanted to find DeBar; and, next to DeBar, Quade himself.

The night carnival was at its height when Aldous re-entered the long, lighted street.  From ten until eleven was the liveliest hour of the night.  Even the restaurants and soup-kitchens were crowded then.  He strolled slowly down the street until he came to a little crowd gathered about the bear equestrienne.  The big canvas dance-hall a few doors away had lured from her most of her admirers by this time, and Aldous found no difficulty in reaching the inner circle.  He looked first for the half-breed.  Failing to find him, he looked at the woman, who stood only a few feet from him.  Her glossy black curls were a bit dishevelled, and the excitement of the night had added to the vivid colouring of her rouged lips and cheeks.  Her body was sleek and sinuous in its silken vesture; arms and shoulders were startlingly white; and when she turned, facing Aldous, her black eyes flashed fires of deviltry and allurement.

For a moment he stared into her face.  If he had not been looking closely he would not have caught the swift change that shot into the siren-like play of her orbs.  It was almost instantaneous.  Her slow-travelling glance stopped as she saw him.  He saw the quick intake of her breath, a sudden compression of her lips, the startled, searching scrutiny of a pair of eyes from which, for a moment, all the languor and coquetry of her trade were gone.  Then she