With one long finger he drew the butt of the gun nearer. His fingers closed around it.
Jacques in his corner watched with fascinated eyes. He saw that English’s face was turned away from that outflung arm, and so was unconscious of Morely’s action.
Suddenly English felt the barrel against his side. He turned his head, read the desperation in Morely’s eyes.
His grip relaxed. Morely drew in a breath of air that eased his tortured lungs.
Slowly English came to his feet. With a catlike bound Morely faced him, finger curled on trigger.
Without removing his eyes from the officer’s face, Morely addressed the fascinated Jacques.
“I must take your dogs, but do not fear. They will either be returned to you, or I will send payment. Write your name on a slip of paper. Then step outside. Put my pack in the sled. Have you any cooked meat on hand?”
“Oui, m’sieu” Jacques responded with glowing eyes. He had warmed instantly to this man.
“Put all you have in the sled. Also what fish you can spare, for the dogs.”
He addressed English, as Jacques sprang to do his bidding.