“In another month, perhaps sooner. What does it matter? I do not have ammunition. Neither do you. You have only your bows and arrows.”
“Corporal Simons,” the old man paused to bang the table with his fist, “with bows and arrows we will save them. This young man, if he will, and Faye will go with me. We will show you what primitive weapons will do.”
“Calm yourself.” The Corporal’s tone showed consternation. “You wouldn’t drag a young woman into that barren land. I tell you they are starving. Desperate. Who can say what they might do? And after all,” he added, “they are but Eskimos, mere savages. It is sad, but the world will not miss them.”
“There are no savages,” said Gordon Duncan, resuming his place by the fire. “In the eyes of the All Seeing One, all men are the same. In the past many a white man, many a member of your force, has owed his life to these simple people. Is it not so? Then we owe them their lives in return.”
It was evident to Johnny that the Corporal knew something of Gordon Duncan’s state of health, for at a look from Faye he said no more.
A half hour later they were seated round a rough board table graced by such a feast as only a Scotch girl accustomed to the wilds could have spread before them.
The evening meal over, Gordon Duncan dropped into a great rustic chair before the fire. As Johnny watched he saw the old man start as a change came over him. A battle of conflicting emotions played across his expressive face. Twice he half rose in his chair. Many times he clenched his fists tight. Three times he turned to speak to the Corporal. At last, as he sank down deep in his chair, a look of resignation came over his face. Peace now reigned where a battle had raged. He was soon sleeping in his chair.
Johnny could not read all the story that had been recorded there. He knew too little regarding the two possible courses of action that lay before them and the purposes and emotions that were back of them. He did know that an idea had taken possession of Gordon Duncan. He had had a partner in the past. They had found some metal. He called it green gold. Was it? Whatever it was, the whole soul of the old man had been bent on finding that partner and his treasure.
Now a man, an officer of the law, had told him of a starving people. He had at once conceived of a plan for helping them. Just what those plans were Johnny did not clearly know. Of one thing he felt certain. Having observed the old man and understanding something of his deep convictions, he felt sure that he would feel compelled to go to the aid of those who faced starvation.
“Faye will go,” the old man had said.