“I’m staying here,” Steel repeated in the same tones, and Miller laughed.
“Say, you gone crazy?” he asked.
“No,” said Steel.
“What are you gonna stay here for?”
“To do what he asked,” was Steel’s reply.
Miller snorted. “Well, you damn’ fool!” he said. “That’s all I can say for you.”
“That’s all you have to say, Miller. Goodby. The door’s open.”
Miller went toward the entrance, the newly acquired moccasins and rifle in his hand. He picked up the ax where he had stood it against the door-jamb a few moments before. Turning, he said, “You needn’t think I’m goin’ to wait for you. I can get through them damned trails alone, without your help.”
“I hope you can,” said Steel. “I’m not asking you to wait for me. In fact, the sooner I see that back of yours, Miller, the happier I’ll be.”
Still Miller hesitated in the doorway, as if realizing that starting on alone would more than double the task of getting through to Fairbanks. “Well, it’s your funeral, but you’d better think it over,” he said. “Stay here, and you’ll be up against it.”