Stirling nodded and rubbed his chin with his palm, then turned and stared toward the curtain. Slim had rolled over and was hammering the cabin deck with his heels in an endeavour to escape the bonds around his wrists and elbows.
"I found him," said Stirling. "What do you say if we go in there—Miss—Miss——"
"Miss Marr—Helen Marr," she said, quickly, as she came gliding out of the door. "You see," she added, "I'm not a bit frightened—at you!"
[CHAPTER XXIX—TO SEE IT THROUGH]
Rough-garbed and soiled from his efforts, Stirling led the way aft to the large cabin of the Pole Star, then turned and held the curtain back for Helen Marr. He bowed as she passed through and stood staring at the prone form of the Frisco dock rat.
"I'll attend to him, miss," declared Stirling. "Did he insult you?"
The girl flushed slightly, but there was an assurance in her manner that bespoke the daughter of the sea. She braced her slight form by leaning against the table and turned to the Ice Pilot. "No; he didn't insult me," she said. "He couldn't. But he is not a gentleman and never can be one."
Stirling stepped over the deck and reached downward, coiled his arms about Slim, and raised him from the planks.
"Hold the curtain," he said, softly. "I'll put this fellow out of harm's way. There's a cabin just made for him, where we can feed him and watch him."
Helen Marr stared at Stirling as he shifted his burden, smiled slowly through the grime of his lips, and staggered with Slim through the curtain and down the alleyway to the cabin where Whitehouse and Marr had kept him prisoner.