On that very night, in a little, snow-smothered cabin crouching close against the Kalvik bluffs, another girl was seated at a piano. Her slim, white fingers had strayed upon the notes of a song which Boyd Emerson had sung. In her dream-filled eyes was the picture of a rough-garbed, silent man at her shoulder, and in her ears was the sound of his voice. Clear to the last melting note she played the air, and then a pitiful sob shook her. She bowed her golden head and hid her face in her arms, for a memory was upon her, a forgotten kiss was hot upon her lips, and she was very lonely.
CHAPTER XIII
IN WHICH CHERRY MALOTTE BECOMES SUSPICIOUS
At the hotel Emerson found Clyde and Fraser in Balt's room awaiting him. They were noisy and excited at the success of the enterprise and at the prospect of immediate action.
Quoth "Fingerless" Fraser: "It has certainly lifted a load off my mind to put this deal through."
Emerson was forced to smile. "Now that you have succeeded," said he, "what next?"
"Back to the Coast. This town is a bum."
"Are you going west with us?"
"Sure! Why not? This game ain't opened yet."
"How long are we to be favored with your assistance?"