There was no answer nor motion, while Justin shook his head again.
'You're right, boy. I've chloroformed him, so he's missed the lecture I was going to let him have. It'll be a wonderful good lesson, I reckon.'
'You beat too hard,' said Justin, bending over the bruised body, and touching the injuries with dark, deft fingers.
McAuliffe stretched his limbs luxuriously. 'Pshaw! don't trouble about that, boy. You get to work and take the woman back to her husband. Tell him he's got me to thank for seeing her again. I'm going down to the river to wash some of this dirt and oil off my hide. Give me the axe; I'll leave it with the old wife as I come along.'
Justin gave a grunt of compliance, then walked over to the rescued woman and pulled her up by the arm. Accustomed to obedience she followed him, but whether she was anxious to return, or willing to stay, did not appear. None could have told. Such a thought, likely enough, did not trouble her own brain.
The two disappeared along the forest trail as the moon came up over the ledges. McAuliffe prepared to descend to the river, but first he paid attention to the half-breed's lawful wife.
'There's a job for you,' he said, looking over the bowl of his pipe, and raising a sulphur match, which spluttered with blue light in the darkness. 'Guess 'bout best thing it can do, is to look after what's left of your darned thief of a husband.'