"Have a drink?" Joe invited.
Bill started then, but he made no response. Harold moved toward the table.
"You're a real life-saver, Wolfpaw," he replied genially. "It's a cold night, and I don't care if I do. Virginia, pass down the cups."
Of course there were not enough cups to go around. There were three of tin, however, counting one that Bill made from an empty can. "You'll drink?" Joe asked Bill.
The woodsman's face was grave. "Wolfpaw, it's against the law of this province to give or receive liquor from Indians," he replied gravely. "I won't drink to-night."
Pete turned with a scowl. His thought had already flashed to the white blade at his belt. "You're damn particular——" he began.
But Joe shook his head, restraining him. The hour to strike had not yet come. They must enjoy their liquor first and engender fresh courage from its fire. He saw fit, however, to glance about the room and locate the weapon of which Harold had spoken,—the deadly miner's pick that leaned against the wall back of the stove.
Curiously, Virginia's thought had flung to the weapons, too. She had taken off her pistol when she had been nursing Bill and hadn't put it on since. Quietly, so as not to attract attention, she glanced about to locate it. It was hanging on a nail at the opposite end of the table,—and Joe stood just beside it. She had no desire to waken his suspicions of her fear. She knew she must put up a bold front, at least. Nevertheless her fingers longed for the comforting feel of its butt. She resolved to watch for a chance to procure it.
"Have a drink?" Joe asked Virginia.
She didn't like the tone of his voice. He was speaking with entire familiarity, and again she expected interference from Harold. Her fiance, however, was fingering the bottle. She saw Bill straighten, ever so little, and beheld the first signs of rising anger in the set of his lips. But she didn't know the full fierceness of his inward struggle,—an almost resistless desire to spring at once and smite those impertinent tones from the breed's lips. But he knew that he must take care—for Virginia's sake—and avoid a fight as long as it was humanly possible to do so.