In the hall was someone Ned did not know. But George knew him and knew that he was a capable strong man. He was Long Mac of the Pony Saw, as strong as he was long. In the winters he hunted, and knew all the country round about.
"Take him across the river to-night, and away by Whatcom to-morrow, Mac," said George; "do your best."
Mac never did less, whether it was for evil or for good. On the balance he was a good and fine man. But he cared nothing for the Law and had a curious respect and liking for George Quin.
"I'll do that," said Long Mac. He took Ned by the arm, and Ned without a backward glance shuffled into the darkness.
George went in to Jenny and found her unconscious on the floor. He sprinkled cold water in her face, and she moaned.
"Poor little woman," said George. "Oh, but it's hard lines on these poor squaws. If I died what'd happen to her?"
He knew their nature and knew his own.
"But Mary's dead," said Quin. "Better for her."
Yet Mary wasn't dead, though Mac was dragging a whining, puling wretch of a man on a dark trail to a country where there's a very poor trail indeed cut for the slow and burdened army of the Law.