"Half an' half, hell! You got what you come after, ain't you? An' if I kin pick up an honest dollar on the side, that ain't no reason I should split it with you, is it? I'll jest leave you two to git acquainted while I slip down to the camp."
"Go ahead," grinned the Captain, "An' don't hurry back, we'll wait."
"Yer damn right you'll wait!" retorted Claw, "I'll have the dogs." In the doorway he paused, "An', by the way, Cap. Don't open that door till I git out of range—see?"
The moment the door closed behind Claw, the Captain placed his back against it and turned to the girl: "Git to work now an' git supper! We're goin' to hit the back-trail inside an' hour. We kin pack what grub we'll need, an' we'll git most a hull night's start, cause he'll be busy with them Injuns till mornin'."
Snowdrift confronted him with blazing eyes: At the words her blood seemed to freeze within her,
leaving her cold and numb with horror. She had heard of the coastal traffic in winter wives, but always it had seemed to her a thing vague and unreal. But now the full hideousness of it stood revealed to her. She herself, at that very moment stood trapped, bought and sold—absolutely in the power of the two bearded beasts, who in the very loathsomeness of their filthy minds, discussed her as they would discuss a piece of merchandise, bargained and haggled over the price of her living body! A single ray of hope had dawned in her breast as the men began to quarrel. If they would only come to blows, and to grip-lock in their rage, she might be able to seize a weapon, or better still dash from the room. Once in the scrub, she could easily elude them. But the hope died when Claw covered the Captain with his gun. And with the hope died also the numbing terror. A strange, unnatural calm took possession of her. There was still one way out—and she would seek that way. As the two men stood facing each other, she had caught a glimpse of the blade of the knife that lay where the Captain had thrown it, beneath the edge of the bunk. Stealthily her moccasined foot had reached out and slid it toward her, and as the door opened upon Claw's departure, she had stooped swiftly and recovered it. She would plunge the blade into her own heart—no, better, she would attack the Captain now that they were alone, and either kill him, or by the very fury of her onslaught, would force him to kill her. So
with the knife concealed by her folded arms, her eyes blazed defiance:
"I'll never cook your supper! You dog! You unspeakable devil! I'll kill you first—or you'll kill me!"
"Kill ye, eh?" sneered the man, "Well, I might, at that, if I didn't have five hundred good dollars tied up in ye. Guess they ain't much danger of me killin' ye till I get my money back, one way er another—an' I guess they ain't no one knows that no better'n what you do. An' as fer killin' me," he laughed, "You look spunky 'nough to—but I'm hard to kill—it's be'n tried."
"I've warned you!" cried the girl, "And I'll kill you!"