"I'll put the box back where I find it," replied Roger. "Come on, Ern, begin."
It was a pitifully mean little pack, quite poverty stricken compared with Mrs. von Minden's. A woolen quilt and a Navajo, a coffee pot, frying pan and a small sack of sugar, a canteen, a flannel shirt and a pair of ragged socks, a gun, a small strong box, with a geological hammer, a barometer and a compass, comprised Peter's load.
Roger took the gun into the living tent and Ernest remade the pack. During the search, Mrs. von Minden had not spoken, though she eyed the work with keenest interest.
"Now," said Roger, "I will tell you both frankly that I don't care to have a family row carried on in this camp."
"I'm not trying to row, certainly," exclaimed von Minden. "It's all this woman."
"The woman is your wife, isn't she?" asked Ernest.
"In name only. I tell you I finished with women, years ago."
"But I haven't finished with you yet," commented his wife.
"What can you do to me?" sneered Crazy Dutch.
"I can do what They tell me. And They tell me to hang on to you like grim death until They bid me stop. I shall follow you and that strong box to the end of the earth, Otto!"