shouldn't be so attractive, Dicky."

The latter growled.

"Now you've got her, what you going to do with her?" pursued the older
man.

"Do with her?" exploded Dick; "what in hell do you mean? I don't want
her; she's none of my funeral. She's got to go back, of course."

"Oh, sure!" agreed Sam. "She's got to go back. Sure thing! It's only two
days down stream, and then the Crees would have only four days' start
and getting farther every minute. A mere ten days in the woods without
an outfit. Too easy; especially for a woman. But of course you'll give
her your outfit, Dick."

He mused, gazing into the flames, his eyes droll over this new
complication introduced by his thoughtless comrade.

"Well, we can't have her with us," objected Dick, obstinately. "She'd
hinder us, and bother us, and get in our way, and we'd have to feed
her--we may have to starve ourselves;--and she's no damn _use_ to us.
She can't go. I won't have it; I didn't bargain to lug a lot of squaws
around on this trip. She came; I didn't ask her to. Let her get out of
it the best way she can. She's an Injun. She can make it all right
through the woods. And if she has a hard time, she _ought_ to."

"Nice mess, isn't it, Dick?" grinned the other.

"No mess about it. I haven't anything to do with such a fool trick. What