“In the first place,” she said, “we don’t want your help. If we don’t get this by our own efforts, we’ll never value it. In the second place, we’ll never be sure of it. We don’t trust you—quite. You tricked us once. That was your fault. If you trick us again, that’s our fault. Thank you—but no, Frank.”
The women disappeared down the trail while still the men stood staring.
“Well, can you beat it?” was the only comment for a moment—and that came from Pete. In another instant, they had turned on Merrill, were upbraiding him hotly for what they called his treason.
“You can’t bully me,” was his unvarying answer. “Remember, any time they call on me, I’ll fight for them.”
“Well, you can do what you want with your own wife, of course,” Ralph said, falling into one of his black rages. “But I’m damned if you’ll encourage mine.”
“Boys,” he added later, after a day of steadily increasing rage, “I’m tired of this funny business. Let’s knock off work to-morrow and hunt them. What gets me is their simplicity. They don’t seem to have calculated on our superior strength. It won’t take us more than a few hours to run them to earth. By God, I wish we had a pair of bloodhounds.”
“All right,” said Billy. “I’m with you, Ralph. I’m tired of this.”
“Let’s go, to bed early to-night,” said Pete, “and start at sunrise.”
“Well,” said Honey philosophically, “I’ve hunted deer, bear, panther, buffalo, Rocky Mountain sheep, jaguar, lion, tiger, and rhinoceros—but this is the first time I ever hunted women.”
They started at sunrise—all except Frank, who refused to have anything to do with the expedition—and they hunted all day. At sunset they camped where they fell exhausted. They went back to the search the next day and the next and the next and the next.