If he had been helpless a few minutes before, he was
utterly so now. In the same breath it flashed upon him that Bram's
activity in the destruction of his weapons meant that his life was
spared, at least for the present. Otherwise Bram would not be
taking these precautions.
The futility of speech kept his own lips closed. At last Bram
looked at him, and pointed to his snowshoes where he had placed
them last night against the snow dune. His invitation for Philip
to prepare himself for travel was accompanied by nothing more than
a grunt.
The wolves were returning, sneaking in watchfully and alert. Bram
greeted them with the snap of his whip, and when Philip was ready
motioned him to lead the way into the north. Half a dozen paces
behind Philip followed Bram, and twice that distance behind the
outlaw came the pack. Now that his senses were readjusting
themselves and his pulse beating more evenly Philip began to take
stock of the situation. It was, first of all, quite evident that
Bram had not accepted him as a traveling companion, but as a
prisoner; and he was equally convinced that the golden snare had
at the last moment served in some mysterious way to save his life.
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