Working his way along the wall so as not to disturb possible evidence, he picked up the telephone. A private wire ran from the lodge to town. The instrument was dead.

He closed the door and returned to the Forest Service cabin. The usual service wire connected the cabin with the outer world. It, likewise, was dead.

He glanced at the girl. Color had returned to her cheeks, but she was still unconscious. He caught up a portable instrument and flashlight and started down the trail. Twice he connected up only to find a dead wire, but the third attempt, some half mile from the cabin was successful.

“Hello,” he cried, “this is Dan Todd at the Black Lake cabin. Connect me with the sheriff’s office, please. Thanks!” Another delay, then a sleepy voice, very faint, inquired what was wanted.

“There has been a murder committed at Black Lake lodge,” he shouted, “I’ve left everything exactly as I found it and I’ll stay here until some one shows up!”

“We can make it by sun-up with luck.” The deputy was wide awake now!

Having performed this necessary duty Dan Todd trotted back up the trail again. By this time his patient should have recovered, he reasoned. And she had.

She was gone!

Suspecting kidnapping, or almost anything, in fact, he looked down on the floor for the wet footprints that everyone entering from without must leave. There were none but his own.

He looked about for a note or some clew as to her reason for leaving almost as soon as she regained consciousness. There was none. Todd’s next move was to return to the lodge. He was prepared for anything now—the body missing, evidence destroyed. But nothing had been disturbed. The girl at least was intent on escape rather than destruction of evidence.

Somewhat belatedly he remembered Chinook had not been seen. He hurried down to the shed that served as a stable. The stable was empty. “She’s taken my horse!” he cried. “I wonder what else she got away with.”

Checking up on the contents of his pack he noted the following articles missing. One pair of waterproof pants; a flannel shirt; socks, boots, slicker and hat. A pack he had noticed hanging on the wall was also gone, and with it a quantity of grub. He checked over the blankets and found two missing.

For several minutes he stood there, debating on his next course, then a slow grin spread over his face. “She’ll be a sight for the gods. She’s about five feet five, and I’m six feet three and she’s wearing my clothes. Well, they’re good clothes and will keep her dry, but she’ll have a tough time walking in my boots.”