Doret had been listening with some amusement; now he said, "You boys got wide pay-streak, eh?"
Bridges nodded without shame. "Wider'n, a swamp, and yeller'n butter."
"Wal, I see w'at I can do." The pilot walked up the bank in search of a crew.
In the course of a half-hour he was back again and with him came the Countess Courteau. Calling Pierce aside, the woman said, swiftly: "We can't get a soul to help us; everybody's in a rush. We'll have to use our own men."
"Broad and Bridges are the best we have," he told her, "but they refuse."
"You're not afraid, are you?"
Now Pierce was afraid and he longed mightily to admit that he was, but he lacked the courage to do so. He smiled feebly and shrugged, whereupon the former speaker misread his apparent indifference and flashed him a smile.
"Forgive me," she said, in a low voice. "I know you're not." She hurried down to the water's edge and addressed the two gamblers in a business-like tone: "We've no time to lose. Which one of you wants to lead off with Doret and Pierce?"
The men exchanged glances. It was Broad who finally spoke. "We been figuring it would please us better to walk," he said, mildly.
"Suit yourselves," the Countess told them, coolly. "But it's a long walk from here to Dawson." She turned back to Pierce and said: "You've seen the canon. There's nothing so terrible about it, is there?"