"True. But the rice was stolen last night, wasn't it? The man who stole it probably stole the other stuff."
"They're two to one," Pierce told her. "They're trying to saw it off on me."
The Countess turned and stared at the McCaskey brothers, who met her look defiantly. "Ban!" she exclaimed. "I haven't heard the evidence, for I was on my way to Dyea when Mr.—" She glanced inquiringly at 'Poleon.
He bowed again. "Doret," said he. "Napoleon Doret."
"—when Mr. Doret overtook me, but I'm willing to wager my life that this boy isn't a thief." Again she smiled at Phillips, and he experienced a tumult of conflicting emotions. Never had he seen a woman like this one, who radiated such strength, such confidence, such power. She stood there like a goddess, a splendid creature fashioned of snow and gold; she dominated the assembly. He was embarrassed that she should find him in this predicament, shamed that she should be forced to come to his assistance; nevertheless, he was thrilled at her ready response.
It was the elder McCaskey who next claimed attention. "We've made our spiel," he began; then he launched into a repetition of his former statement of facts.
The Countess stepped to Pierce's side, inquiring, quickly, "What is this, a joke?"
"I thought so at first, but it looks as if I'll be cutting figure eights on the end of a tent-rope."
"What makes them think you did the stealing?"
"The McCaskeys swear I did. You see, I had no outfit of my own—"