"You ought to know," again came the voice.
Perdue was furious. He was about to give vent to his feelings in no uncertain language, when Pritchen laid his hand upon his shoulder.
"Be quiet, Jim, and never mind the cur. Let's get on with our job. I choose the parson," he continued, looking the missionary full in the eyes.
Keith started as he heard his name mentioned. He had been standing silently in a corner, watching with disgust the way in which the business was being conducted. He noticed that the men chosen were Pritchen's tools. Why had the chairman selected him?
"I would rather not act," he quietly replied. "Please appoint some one else."
"Ye'd better do it, parson," urged Caribou Sol. "A chaplain may be needed, an' ye'll be mighty handy."
A peculiar note in the old man's voice and the look in his face placed Keith on his guard. "Yes, I may be needed," he thought. "If some poor chap gets into the hands of those brutes it will be well to see that fair play is given at any rate."
"Very well, then, I agree," he assented after a short pause.
Pritchen noted how quick Sol was to persuade Keith to accept, and the look upon his face, so the little scene pleased him immensely.
"Now, gentlemen," he announced, "I think one more will do. Five should make a good number. Let me see," and he hesitated as he looked around the room.