"To the States; to the 'outside,'" Boyd answered.
"Then you see Willis Marsh, sure thing. He lives there. Maybe you speak, eh?"
"Well, Mr. Marsh may be a big fellow around Kalvik, but I don't think he occupies so much space in the United States that we will meet him," laughed Emerson; but even yet the girl seemed unconvinced, and went on rather fearfully: "Maybe you see him all the same."
"Perhaps. What then?"
"You speak my name?"
"Why, no, certainly not."
"If I see him, I'll give him your love," offered "Fingerless" Fraser, banteringly; but Chakawana's light-hued cheeks blanched perceptibly, and she cried, quickly:
"No! No! Willis Marsh bad, bad man. You no speak, please! Chakawana poor Aleut girl. Please?"
Her alarm was so genuine that they reassured her; and having completed their meal, they rose and left the room. Outside, Fraser said: "This cannery guy has certainly buffaloed these savages. He must be a slave-driver." Then as they filled their pipes, he added: "She was plumb scared to death of him, wasn't she?"
"Think so?" listlessly.