All Hager had to do was slow the dogsled to a walk, and his partner died. A perfect crime—no chance to get caught!
ly unmarked. It was very obvious that he had died of illness. There couldn't possibly be any suspicions.
Then Hager recalled the threat Cahill had made before dying. Cahill had promised revenge, but there was nothing he could do now. Hager shrugged the memory away. The dead were dead. They could do no harm.
Hager now lost no time in reaching Moose Gulch. He drove the dogs relentlessly, trotting behind the sled. Elation gave him a strength that took him easily over the miles.
A short time before he entered the settlement it began to snow again. Hager was pleased. The snow would cover up the tracks he had left in the event that Art Maddox did any snooping.
He went directly to the doctor's home, carrying the body of Cahill inside. He cleverly played the part of a man reluctant to believe that his partner had died.
"Isn't there something you can do, Doc?" he asked anxiously. "Maybe it isn't too late."
The other straightened from his examination of Cahill and shook his whi
Started out as a truly creepy story, not dissimilar to Edgar Allen Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" but severely stretched the story thin and loose by the end, which was predictable in a "I saw the punchline coming" way.
I like too much.