"That's so," Driscoll growled. "Didn't think they'd make it. They're a tender-footed crowd!"
In the meantime, Thirlwell studied the fellow. Driscoll was wet and ragged; his face was thin, but inscrutably sullen. Unlike the rest, he did not look overcome by fatigue. When Scott spoke he gave him a dull glance and then fixed his eyes on the floor. Thirlwell had noted something unusual in his comrade's manner. Scott's voice had an ironical note and his look did not indicate much sympathy. In the North, a demand for food is seldom refused, but Scott obviously meant to be satisfied with supplying the party's urgent needs. With this Thirlwell agreed.
Then Scott said to Driscoll, "You had better take your friends to the bunk-house and tell the cook to make you supper. You know where to get blankets."
Stormont got up with an effort, and when he went out with the others Scott smiled.
"I'm not going back on my duty, but I don't want that outfit in my shack," he said.
Next morning after breakfast Stormont came in. He had to some extent recovered from his fatigue, but looked worn and dispirited.
"I guess I owe you some thanks," he said.
"I don't know if you do or not," Scott answered coolly. "In the bush, a starving man is, so to speak, entitled to ask for food and shelter. I couldn't refuse."
Stormont gave him a keen glance. "Well, there's another thing. It's a long trail to the railroad and I want to buy stores enough to see us out."
"Then I suppose I must let you have supplies; but you can't expect to get them as cheap as at the settlements. In fact, you'll have to pay my price."