That night, as they lay beside the Burntwood, Peter heard his master crying out Nada's name in his sleep.
And the next dawn they went on--still farther north.
In these days and weeks, with the hot inundation of the wilderness about him, McKay fought doggedly against the forces which were struggling to break down the first law of his creed. The law might catch him, and probably would, and when it caught him the law might hang him--and probably would. But it would never KNOW him. There was something grimly and tragically humorous in this. It would never know of the consuming purity of his worship for little children, and old people--and women. It would laugh at the religion he had built up for himself, and it would cackle tauntingly if he dared to say he was not wholly bad. For it believed
