Donald asked no more questions. His thoughts leaped the desolate, frozen miles to where a lonely girl watched hour by hour beside the wretched bed of her father, only relieved now and then by a perfunctory and uninterested doctor. He had not allowed himself to think of her often; it was a dangerous and poignant subject for him. He had kept his mind upon the plans that he had set in operation. If those failed, he might entertain the sickening thought of never seeing her again. He had no right to marry her and ruin her life, willing though she might be. Perhaps, it would be a cruel mercy to go away. All this, if his plans failed. If they succeeded, there was still the question of Charley Seguis and his own nonentity, the certificate in Maria's muskrat-skin bag, and—
“Hey! What's this?” cried Timmins suddenly, sitting bolt upright.
Donald peered over the protection, and stiffened into immobility. Out from the edge of the forest, silently and swiftly, poured Charley Seguis and his band, their guns held in readiness. Suddenly, they saw the change that had come over the camp, and halted abruptly in amazed groups.
[CHAPTER XXV]
AGAINST FEARFUL ODDS
Donald seized his opportunity, and stood up to his full height, exposing his head and shoulders.
“Seguis,” he said, “you're covered. I've come back with my men, and taken possession of your furs. I call upon you to surrender.”
Though a hundred yards away, the amazement depicted on the half-breed's face was apparent. The men behind the barricade had thrust the long, black barrels of their guns through loopholes left for that purpose, and trained them upon the disorganized free-traders.
For a tense minute, there was no reply. Then, Seguis spoke.
“Let me talk a moment with my men, will you?” he asked.