“Ah, yes; and I have been ill. Very ill. I can remember—it is so difficult to remember—but I was on the trail, wasn’t I? A difficult trail. And what is the name of this place, Dick?”
“Keechewan.”
“Keechewan! Keechewan!” Corporal Rand repeated the name. “It sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
Toma was beside him now—standing very close, looking down into the sick man’s eyes. He suddenly stooped and whispered something into Rand’s willing ears, then drew back smiling.
“It is all right,” he announced to Dick, who had come closer. “Corporal Rand he say all right. Him willing we go. We must hurry very fast, Dick. You go back to billet an’ pretty soon I go there too.”
And almost before he realized it, Toma had seized his arm and was dragging him toward the door.
“Quick!” he commanded. “You go back to billet. I know place where I find two horses. You get us something to eat in plenty hurry. Two rifles, cartridge belts, revolvers——You work quick—plenty fast. So me too.”
“But Toma,” protested his bewildered companion, “I don’t see. I don’t know——What——”
“No time ask ’em questions now. Do like I say. Quick! Hurry!”
Through the open doorway Dick was bundled, pushed, treated somewhat roughly, considering that Toma was his friend. Outside in the chill air, he had started to protest again, but the door was slammed in his face.