The spokesman drew away from his fellow conspirators.
“Yes, M’sieur Dick.”
“Tell the others to harness the dogs. It’s time to start.”
Fontaine’s eyes sought the ground.
“They no go, m’sieur,” he declared doggedly.
“What do they intend to do?”—brusquely.
“Nothing. They say go back to Mackenzie.”
“Utter nonsense. You’ll never make it. It’s hundreds of miles south of here. You’ll starve before you get there.”
“Starve!” exclaimed Fontaine. “But, M’sieur Dick, you mus’ be mistake. You have plenty grub here. Fellows no go back without grub.”
“That’s exactly what they’ll have to do if they leave this party—everyone of them. You’ll get nothing from me. I’ll shoot the first man that makes an attempt to take anything with him. Do you understand, Fontaine?”