Though she could see nothing through the tiny aperture so made, she knew, as certainly as if she herself had been standing in the tepee, that Miskodeed was watching them with interested eyes. Unconsciously she drew herself upright, and flashed a challenging glance towards the invisible spectator, visioning the Indian girl's wild beauty and matching it, as a jealous woman will, against her own. Not till Stane addressed her did she take her eyes from the tepee.
"Anderton's through," he said. "His man has gone northward; and as you heard there are no dogs here. We shall have to go back to the cabin. Anderton tried to persuade the chief to send a couple of his young men with a message down to Fort Malsun, but the fellow says it is impossible in this weather to make the journey without dogs, which I dare say is true enough."
"Then," said the girl with a gay laugh, "we have a further respite."
"Respite?" he said wonderingly.
"Yes—from civilization. I am not absolutely yearning for it yet."
She laughed again as she spoke, and Stane laughed with her, though he did not notice the glance she flashed at the closed tepee. Then Anderton turned abruptly from Chief George.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I have done what I could for you two, but this noble red man either won't or can't help you. I shall have to push on, but the first chance I get I'll send word on to Factor Rodwell. If only I could turn back——"
"Please don't worry about us, Mr. Anderton," interrupted Helen cheerfully. "We shall be all right."
"'Pon my word, I believe you will, Miss Yardely," answered the policeman in admiration. He looked down the lake, and then added: "No use my going back. It will only be time wasted. I will say good-bye here. Keep cheerful, old man," he said to Stane. "You'll work clear of that rotten business at Oxford yet. I feel it in my bones."
Helen moved a little away, and the policeman lowered his voice, "Lucky beggar! You'll ask me to be best man, won't you?"