He knew that he was asking a foolish question and scarcely expected an answer from Mercer. He was astonished when the other said:
"I heard Doctor Cardigan ask her if we might expect her to honor us with another visit, and she told him it would be impossible, because she was leaving on a down-river scow tonight. Fort Simpson, I think she said she was going to, sir."
"The deuce you say!" cried Kent, spilling a bit of his coffee in the thrill of the moment. "Why, that's where Staff-Sergeant O'Connor is bound for!"
"So I heard Doctor Cardigan tell her. But she didn't reply to that. She just—went. If you don't mind a little joke in your present condition, sir, I might say that Doctor Cardigan was considerably flayed up over her. A deuced pretty girl, sir, deuced pretty! And I think he was shot through!"
"Now you're human, Mercer. She was pretty, wasn't she?"
"Er—yes—stunningly so, Mr. Kent," agreed Mercer, reddening suddenly to the roots of his pasty, blond hair. "I don't mind confessing that in this unusual place her appearance was quite upsetting."
"I agree with you, friend Mercer," nodded Kent. "She upset me. And—see here, old man!—will you do a dying man the biggest favor he ever asked in his life?"
"I should be most happy, sir, most happy."
"It's this," said Kent. "I want to know if that girl actually leaves on the down-river scow tonight. If I'm alive tomorrow morning, will you tell me?"
"I shall do my best, sir."