to himself as he reckoned distance and direction. The hunted woman had wandered by tortuous paths through miles of darkness, only to turn back at last towards the tragic spot from which she had fearfully fled.

By the freshly trod prints, the skilled tracker knew that he was running down the fugitive. In places, fluffy bits of snow were still breaking at the edges of the new-made tracks. He should overtake her any minute now. As he lengthened his stride he listened for sounds of lightly crunching feet, and peered sharply ahead, expecting with every step to catch sight of a hurrying figure among the spruces.

He was advancing through a tangle of snow-sheeted brush, his arm thrusting aside the trailing branches when suddenly he caught a red glint of light in the darkness beyond. At the same instant a stray breath of wind brought to him a resinous smell of wood smoke. A fire of some sort apparently had been kindled in the forest ahead.Wondering, he broke his way out of the thicket, and paused for a moment to stare before him. A flaming glow flickered among the trees, throwing ruddy reflections upon the wintry landscape. A glance told him it was too big a blaze to be a campfire. He knew that a forest conflagration seldom starts and never gains much headway when the trees are laden with snow, but for the instant he felt the sharp sense of alarm that communicates itself to all woodland dwellers at the sight and scent of burning timber. He left the trail he was following, and plunged straight through the underbrush towards the crimson flaring light.

Crashing forward, heedless of the lash of branches, he forced his path through the densest thicket. As he advanced he caught glimpses of fire and saw sparks leaping among the trees. He passed through the intervening stretch of forest, and stumbled to the edge of an ax-hewn clearing. In the middle of the snowy ground stood a log building, with smoke and flames spouting upward from the walls and roof. The surrounding area was illuminated with the brightness of day, and at a glance Dexter identified the place. He had circled back to the scene of murder. The cabin had been fired, and was blazing in the forest like a lighted torch.

CHAPTER VI
THE DOORWAY OF DREAD

With the hot glare beating back in his face, Dexter stood with blinking eyes, hearing the hiss of falling sparks and the fierce crackle of the mounting flames. Tongues of fire lapped around the windows and darted angrily from the crevices between the logs. As he peered through the pitchy black smoke, a gust of flame lashed out at the 

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