"You got to stand your half o' the rum. We're pardners on this."
"I stand nothin'. You put up the rum, an' the grub, an' a thousan' dollars fer the girl. My contract is to git her, an' deliver her on board the Belva Lou. The only thing we're pardners on is Ace-In-The-Hole's dust. A trade's a trade—an' you got all the best of it, at that."
Late that afternoon Claw and the Captain, and the renegade Dog Rib reached the Bloody Falls of the Coppermine, and searched vainly for Brent's camp.
"Pulled out!" cried the Captain, after an hour's search along the base of the upstanding rock ledges.
Claw shook his head: "They never got here," he amended, "The storm got bad before they hit the ridges, an' they're lost."
"Where's the camp, then?"
Claw indicated the high piled snow: "Tent was only pegged to the snow. Wind blew it down, and the fresh snow buried it. We'll camp an' hang
around a couple of days. If they weathered the storm, they'll be along by that time. If they didn't—well, they won't bother us none with the girl."
"But, how about the dust?" asked the Captain, "If they don't come, we've got to find the camp."
Claw laughed: "You'll have a hell of a time doin' it! With the snow piled twenty foot deep along them ledges. If they don't show up, we'll shove on to the Injuns. It's clost to a hundred an' fifty mile to the camp, accordin' to the Dog Rib, an' it'll take us anyways a week to make it, with the goin' as bad as it is."