“Won’t be here long now, I figure,” Evered suggested.
“I don’t know,” said Darrin. “I’ll be here till I’ve done what I came to do.”
Evered did not speak for a minute; then he asked, “Get them moose pictures, you mean?”
Ruth looked from one man to the other in a bewildered way, half sensing the fact that both were wary and alert.
Darrin said, “Of course.”
Evered shook his head. “Dangerous business, this time o’ year. The old bulls have got other things on their mind besides having their pictures took.”
“I’ll risk it,” said Darrin.
“You’ve a right to,” Evered told him, and turned away.
Darrin watched the man for an instant; then he followed Ruth into the shed. She showed him his dunnage, packed in a stout roll; and he lifted it by the lashing and slung it across his shoulder.
“Mr. Evered is right,” she said. “The moose are dangerous—in the fall.”