By and by Scott, sitting opposite Thirlwell, said thoughtfully, "Driscoll's outfit will have to hustle, if they mean to do much prospecting and get back while the ice is good. I'll give them a month, and if they're not out then, they'll have trouble."
Thirlwell made a sign of agreement. Rivers and lakes are numerous in the North, and in winter one can travel smoothly on the ice. When the latter rots and cracks, voyageurs and prospectors wait until the melting snow sweeps the grinding floes away and canoes can be launched. To push through tangled bush and across soft muskegs costs heavy labor.
"They were taking up a big load and couldn't march fast," he said.
"I understand you don't know Stormont?"
"I know his character—and unless he's badly slandered that's enough! I haven't met him, but I'm nearly sure it was a city man I saw in Driscoll's camp."
"Stormont's indicated," Scott replied. "I reckon Driscoll went to him because he needed capital; but he wouldn't put another fellow on the track. If we take it for granted that he did go, the mystery about Strange's letters is cleared up. It's characteristic that Stormont tried to steal them before he made Miss Strange his offer."
"In a way, it's curious that he did make an offer!"
Scott smiled. "He didn't run much risk. It would be hard to frame an agreement out of which Stormont couldn't wriggle; I've met the fellow, and Brinsmead has grounds for knowing his methods. Anyhow, it's plain that he thinks it worth while to spend some money in trying to find the lode, and on such matters his judgment is said to be pretty good. Then I imagine Black Steve knows more about Strange's prospecting trips than you suspect."
"My notion is, that nobody knows much about the lode."
"Well," said Scott, "it looks like that. Strange is dead, and I don't imagine he took Black Steve very far into his confidence; though he may have given him a hint when he was drunk. But there's another man, whom nobody seems to have thought of yet."