"Three! Only three! What d'ye mean?"
"That two of them went down last night in Klikhausia Rapids, when their canoe struck a sunken rock."
At this Dan sprang to his feet, and laid his hand heavily upon Grey's shoulder.
"What! What!" he whispered in a hoarse voice. "Say that over ag'in. Mebbe I didn't hear ye aright. D'ye tell me that two of 'em have gone down?"
"I believe so."
"What! Shorty an' Tim?"
"I don't know their names, but if you sit down I'll tell you all about it."
And there in that little cabin Grey told about the stolen child, the fight with the grizzly, the wreck in the rapids, and the rescue of the boy. To all this Dan listened with wide open eyes, at times interjecting a word of surprise.
"My God!" he exclaimed, when Grey had finished. "So them poor divils have gone down! Yes, I'm sartin it's them, fer I savvey things now which I couldn't afore. It's all clear to me as day. I see through their game—to steal the poor lad from his mother's arms, an' make the old man cough up the dough. Oh, them villains! It jist sarved 'em right, fer they war mean skunks. But I do pity the ones who'll have to look after 'em in t'other world. Parsons an' sich like may talk about goin' to hell, but Shorty an' Tim have taken their own hell fire along with 'em, an' don't ye fergit that."
"I wonder if the rest of the gang know about the accident," Grey remarked, gazing thoughtfully at the little stove, which was sending out its genial heat.