“No, no,” said the husky voice peevishly. “She’ll do it—Liddy’ll do it. Liddy’s comin’.”
“All right, Jimmy. All right.”
After a moment Throng shook his head feebly and said, scarcely above a whisper:
“But I be a durn fool—when she’s not here.”
Duc nodded and gave him more whisky and herbs. “My feet’s cold,” said the old man, and Duc wrapped a bearskin round his legs.
II
For miles Pierre and Halby rode without a word. Then they got down and walked for a couple of miles, to bring the blood into their legs again.
“The old man goes to By-by bientot,” said Pierre at last.
“You don’t think he’ll last long?”
“Maybe ten days; maybe one. If we don’t get the girl, out goes his torchlight straight.”