“I glad to hear that. You think pretty soon we be able to move him over to warehouse?”
“Perhaps—but not yet. He’s still too dazed and weak. He needs rest and quiet. But he’s doing nicely.”,
They left him while they went to prepare breakfast. When Toma returned to the place where the patient lay, he was greeted with a wan smile of recognition. The Indian lad cried out jubilantly. Hearing him, Rand rushed over.
“Thank the good Lord you’re coming round,” he cried out. “I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am.”
They made Dick a light broth and towards noon he was feeling so well he was able to sit up. Always there was one of the two near him. They were compelled to make frequent trips to and from the warehouse. In addition to caring for Dick, they had the prisoners to look after. On the previous night, before starting out, they had bound the four men hand and foot. There were now extra meals to prepare, increasing responsibility. The larder required replenishing. During his spare time, Toma went out to hunt for rabbits and ptarmigan.
Shortly before two o’clock, the policeman, who had been busy gathering fuel for the fire, came over and sat down by Dick’s side.
“Do you feel strong enough now to tell me all about it?” he asked. “How did you get here? How many of the outlaws were in the party which attacked you?”
“Before I do that,” Dick spoke up, rubbing one shaky hand across his forehead, “I want to warn you, corporal, that those packers may return. They were planning to rescue Murky and the others and to murder you and Toma. It’s queer they haven’t already come. You must be very careful.”
“Are you quite sure about this, Dick?”
“Yes,” the other answered. “An ambuscade! A treacherous, cowardly thing! They planned to secrete themselves in the brush and take pot-shot at you. Later, when they had released Murky and the prisoners, they intended to go south with the fur.”