Chapter 18 A FUTILE PURSUIT

Hetty's sleigh was sliding, a dim moving shadow, round a bend in the rise when Breckenridge touched his comrade, who stood gazing silently across the prairie.

"It's abominably cold, Larry," he said, with a shiver. "Hadn't we better get on?"

Grant said nothing as he took his place on the driving-seat, and the team had plodded slowly along the