The chief sat thoughtful for a time, his cunning eyes looking from one to the other.
“What you give go Kadiak?” he asked, at length.
“Schooner come by-and-by,” retorted Rob, coldly.
The chief chuckled to himself shrewdly.
“Where bad mans go?” he asked, after awhile.
Rob shrugged his shoulder and pointed toward the mountains, as though he did not know where the refugee might be.
After awhile the old native produced from under his coat three handsomely made kamelinkas, or rain-proof coats, made of membranes. He pointed to the clothing of the boys and made signs of rain.
“You like-um?” he asked. “Me like-um lifle.”
Rob shook his head, but the old man persisted. Finally Rob was seized of a happy idea.