"I've heard there was one staying there."
"No, he didn't come."
Marian settled back in her seat.
"Well," he went on, "the captain of this craft traded everything on board to the natives for furs; everything but some food. I bought that from him. You see, they were determined to get away as soon as possible. I was just as determined to stay. I didn't know exactly where you were, but was bound I'd find you and—and the letter." He paused.
"By the way," he said, struggling to conceal his intense interest, "have—have you the letter?"
Marian nodded. "It is in my paint-box over in the cabin."
The boy sprang eagerly to his feet. "May we not go fetch it?"
"I can't leave my friend."
"Then may I go?" He was eager as a child.
Then after a second, "Why, by Jove! I'm selfish. Haven't given you a chance to say a thing. Perhaps your friend's in trouble. Of course she is, or she'd be out here before this. What is it? Can I help you?"