“I’m glad to hear that, Toma.”
A deep sigh. “Corporal Rand, I feel plenty strong go along you, Dick an’ Sandy.”
The policeman shook his head as he reached over and patted the young man’s arm.
“Like to have you, Toma. If you hadn’t been wounded. I’d say yes. You’re really in no condition to go.”
To the surprise of everyone, Toma swung on his heel and walked out of the room. Sandy’s face clouded.
“Poor devil!” he exclaimed. “That upset him so much he won’t even eat his supper.”
“It is hard on him,” sympathized Dick, looking down at his plate. “The minute you brought up the matter, Toma set his heart on accompanying us. It is a terrible blow to him. He loves action and wants to be in at the finish.”
“I appreciate all that, but you must remember that if he overtaxes himself, a thing which he is very apt to do, it is liable to cause complications. He still has a slight fever. Tell that by looking at him. Eyes heavy, cheeks flushed. No, boys, for his own sake, I can’t permit him to go.”
Not long afterward, Corporal Rand and the two boys left the trading post, hurrying away through the woods. They had slipped off so quietly and unobtrusively that few persons were aware of their going. Rand set the pace, walking with long, easy strides. Through dense thickets of alders, through the shadowed coolness of fir and balsam, across rippling green meadows of luxuriant grass, they made their way. Except now and then for a low order respecting their route, the policeman did not talk. Only the noises of the forest and the steady beat of their footsteps could be heard. Sandy was nervous and continually consulted his watch.
“Eight o’clock,” he finally announced to Dick. “Ought to be getting there pretty soon.”