Knight approached Duff, and, pointing toward Barry, said quietly:
“I guess we'll have to ease him up a bit. That fight, you know, took it out of him, and he always jumps for the biggest pack. We'd better hold him back to-morrow a bit.”
“Can't hold back any one,” said Duff, with an oath. “We've got to make it to-morrow night. There's the devil of a trip before us. That big marsh portage is a heartbreaker, and there must be a dozen or fifteen of them awaiting us, and we're going to get through—at least, I am.”
“All right,” said Knight, with a quick flash of temper. “I'll stay with you, only I thought we might ease him a bit.”
“I'm telling you, we're going to get through,” said Duff, with another oath.
“You needn't tell me, Duff,” said Knight. “Keep your shirt on.”
“On or off, wet or dry, sink or swim, we're going to make that train to-morrow, Knight. That's all about it.”
Then Knight let himself go.
“See here, Duff. Do you want to go on to-night? If you do, hell and blazes, say the word and I'm with you.”
His face was white as he spoke. He seized a tump-line, swung the pack upon his head, and set off across the portage.