Page:The trail of the golden horn.djvu/193

Rh had fled. Had they wanted Hugo, the trapper, they could have taken him years ago. They knew of his wanderings, and his peculiarities. Although the man was a mystery, they never interfered with his manner of living. To them he was a harmless being, one of many dwelling in the country.

“We never considered you as a criminal,” the sergeant replied. “We never had any orders to arrest you.”

“You didn’t!” Hugo exclaimed. “Why, then, did you demand me to surrender when I found you wallowing about in the snow, overcome by the storm?”

“I wanted to hold you that you might give evidence in the murder case. And, besides, I guess I must have been half crazy that day. I hardly knew what a fool-thing I was doing.”

“H’m, you are certainly right. But it was a mighty plucky thing to do, as I told you then. Why, I could have knocked you on the head and no one would have been the wiser. It would have been charged to the storm.”

“Why didn’t you do it? It was your great opportunity.”

“Because I am not a brute. And, further, for my daughter’s sake. Now you understand.”

“I do,” the sergeant replied. “And for her sake, if for nothing else, let us be friends.”

Once more he held out his hand, which Hugo immediately grasped. For a few seconds they faced each other without a word. Their eyes met in a steady look, and their hearts thrilled. Thus two strong men became friends there in the heart of the great wilderness. The bond of union was sealed which neither would lightly break.