"Dangerous business bumping off an officer of the Mounted," reminded the boy.
"Not over in here, it ain't. Special, when it's comin' on to snow. No. They ain't no chanct in the world to git caught fer it—or even to git blamed fer it, 'cause if they ever find what's left of you in the ashes of the cabin, they'll think it got afire while you was asleep. Tomorrow mornin' yo git yourn. In the meantime, Squigg, you roll in an' git some sleep. You've got to take the outfit an' pull out early in the mornin' an' unload that hooch on to them Injuns. I'll ketch up with you 'fore you git there, though. What I've got to do here won't take me no longer than noon," he glanced meaningly at Connie, "an' then, we'll pull out of this neck of the woods."
"Might's well take the kid's dogs an' harness, they might come in handy," ventured Mr. Squigg.
"Take nothin!" roared Black Moran, angrily. "Not a blame thing that he's got do we take. That's the trouble with you cheap crooks—grabbin' off everything you kin lay yer hands on—and that's what gits you caught. Sometime, someone would see something that they know'd had belonged to him in our possession. Then, where'd we be? No, sir! Everything, dogs, gun, sled, harness an' all goes into this cabin when she burns—so, shut up, an' git to bed!" The man turned to Connie, "An' now, you kin roll up on the floor in yer blankets an' pertend to sleep while you try to figger a way out of this mess, or you kin set there in the chair an' figger, whichever you want. Me—I'm a-goin' to set right here an' see that yer figgerin' don't 'mount to nothin'—see?" The evil eyes of Black Moran leered, and looking straight into them, Connie deliberately raised his arms above his head and yawned.
"Guess I'll just crawl into my blankets and sleep," he said. "I won't bother to try and figure a way out tonight—there'll be plenty of time in the morning."
The boy spread his blankets and was soon fast asleep on the floor, and Black Moran, watching him from his chair, knew that it was no feigned sleep. "Well, of all the doggone nerve I ever seen, that beats it a mile! Is he fool enough to think I ain't a-goin' to bump him off? That ain't his reputashion on the Yukon—bein' a fool! It ain't noways natural he should take it that easy. Is he workin' with a pardner, that he expects'll git here 'fore mornin', or what? Mebbe that Injun comin' here after hooch a while back was a plant." The more the man thought, the more uneasy he became. He got up and placed the two rifles upon the table close beside him, and returned to his chair where he sat, straining his ears to catch the faintest night sounds. He started violently at the report of a frost-riven tree, and the persistent rubbing of a branch against the edge of the roof set his nerves a-jangle. And so it was that while the captive slept, the captor worried and fretted the long night through.
Long before daylight, Black Moran awoke Squigg and made him hit the trail. "If they's another policeman along the back trail, he'll run on to Squigg, an' I'll have time fer a git-away," he thought, but he kept the thought to himself.
When the man was gone, Black Moran turned to Connie who was again seated in his chair against the wall. "Want anything to eat?" he asked.
"Why, sure, I want my breakfast. Kind of a habit I've got—eating breakfast."
"Say!" exploded the man, "what ails you anyway? D'you think I'm bluffin'? Don't you know that you ain't only got a few hours to live—mebbe only a few minutes?"