Peter Gross leaned over the rail of the vessel and looked fixedly shoreward. His strong, firm chin was grimly set. There were lines in his face that had not been there a few weeks before when he was tendered and accepted his appointment as resident. Responsibility was sitting heavily upon his shoulders, for he now realized the magnitude of the task he had so lightly assumed.
Captain Carver joined him. "All's well, so far, Mr. Gross," he observed.
Peter Gross let the remark stand without comment for a moment. "Ay, all's well so far," he assented heavily.
There was another pause.
"Are we going ashore this afternoon?" Carver inquired.
"That is my intention."
"Then you'll want the boys to get their traps on deck. At what hour will you want them?"
"I think I shall go alone," Peter Gross replied quietly.
Carver looked up quickly. "Not alone, Mr. Gross," he expostulated.
Peter Gross looked sternly shoreward at the open water-front of Bulungan town, where dugouts, sampans, and crude bark canoes were frantically shooting about to every point of the compass in helter-skelter confusion.