She had cared for George Chanler once, not deeply, she had admitted but enough to bring wistful moments at the thought of the change which had come over him. Now she would see him as she had seen him in those days when he had made upon her a favorable impression.
She would at once see the difference between Chanler and Brack. George was of her own kind; Brack was not. She would see this now; the spell which the captain had been weaving would be broken; and she would turn to her own kind. I felt that Brack’s sole purpose in getting Betty up to the mine was to weave his spell more firmly; he would scarcely frighten her by display of brutality for awhile at least.
We paddled on in silence. The perspiration began to creep out on Chanler’s forehead, but, though he swore at me beneath his breath, his paddle rose and fell steadily.
Evening came upon us with appalling suddenness. The snow-covered western mountains shut out the sun’s rays, and at once the narrow bay grew dark. With the sun gone a chill crept through the valley. The scene became one of depressing gloom and Chanler broke out into querulous protest.
“Paddle,” I said, when his words died out petulantly. “We’re almost to the river.”
We swung from the bay into the river and there the current took liberties with the light canoe. Chanler’s experience in canoeing was much greater than mine, and now for the first time he roused himself and asserted his knowledge.
“Shorter strokes,” he snapped. “Shorter and faster. Now! Drive her!”
In the struggle against the current he forgot his nervousness, and when we landed at the spot where Brack’s boat had beached that morning he sprang out with a vim which he had not displayed since we left Seattle. We went straight up to the mine.
From a distance we saw candle-lights shining from the open door of one of the cabins and we hurried thither. We did not enter. In the single room of the cabin Miss Baldwin and Captain Brack were seated at a table upon which was placed a substantial meal. The captain was eating heartily. Miss Baldwin was looking across the table at him with an expression in which surprise and anger seemed equally mingled; and George and I stopped as one just outside the open door without being seen or heard.
Miss Baldwin was speaking.