Wentworth considered. "I guess he could do that, all right. We would have to let his stuff through—"
"I'll fix him!" cried Orcutt. "I'll beat him to it! Where do we do business with the Government and the Hudson's Bay Company?"
"With the Government in Ottawa, and the Company in Winnipeg."
"Hell's bells!" cried Orcutt. "That means we'll be gallivanting all over Canada for the next week or ten days. Well, it can't be helped. I know John McNabb well enough not to leave any loop-hole for him to take advantage of." He called to the guides. "Hey, you Injuns! What's the quickest way to the railroad?"
The guides pointed due north. "Mebbe-so wan hondre mile," announced one.
"But," cried Wentworth, "we're going back by way of the post, aren't we?"
"We're going to hit for the railway the quickest way God will let us!"
"But, I—I left something—that is, I have nothing to travel in but these field clothes, and they're shockingly soiled and tattered."
"Soiled and tattered—hell! What's that got to do with saving years of trouble at the mill? Maybe you ain't as pretty as you'd like to be—but, you've got enough on so they can't arrest you——"
Wentworth felt a decidedly uncomfortable thrill at the word "arrest." He was thinking of a certain Russian sable coat that lay in his trunk at the cabin, and guarded from prying eyes by only a flimsy trunk lock. He thought, also, of Downey—and wondered. He would have given much to have returned to that cabin, but a single glance into Orcutt's face stilled any thought of further objection, and he reluctantly acquiesced.