"No!" said Ralph in a tone there was no mistaking.
"What shall I do? What shall I do?" moaned Stack. "If you won't let me travel with you, tell me where you're going, and if I can escape from them, I'll try to reach you. In common humanity you can't refuse that!"
Ralph smiled into the darkness. "Is it possible he still thinks I am fool enough to give away my secret!" he thought. "If he does, all right!" Aloud, he said carelessly: "I've no objection to telling you that. But I won't guarantee you a welcome."
"Anyway, you're not a murderer!" whined Stack.
"It's about twenty-five miles up the Stanley River from the Grand Forks——"
"Then you were telling the truth?" said Stack with naïve surprise.
"Why not?" said Ralph coolly. "I'm not afraid of them." He bethought himself of adding a few convincing touches to his lie. "You enter a tributary that comes in on the right-hand side of the Stanley, and ascend it as far as you can go into the foothills. There you will find our camp."
"How will I know the mouth of the right tributary?" asked Stack.
"By two pine trees that lean across, one at each side, until their tops almost meet," said Ralph readily. "My partner and I call it the A River."
"Take me with you!" Stack began all over again. "You need me!"