“Stop right up! I’d sure palaver with a murdering Sundowner. I’d sure palaver with a cannibal Hoonah. But I won’t palaver with you. I’m telling you you’re safe under this roof. Out from under it you take your chance. I’ll give you an hour’s clear start in the morning, and then, by thunder, look out for me! Now jump into that back room quick, the both of you. Jump in, I say, for fear I forget I’ve broken bread under my own roof with you!”
The intensity of Sark’s passion heaved and tore at his mighty chest and vibrated in his smashing voice.
They did not want him to forget. They had the temporary saving grace of the night hours. Much might perhaps be accomplished in those hours, and with that idea in their degenerate minds Cantine and the woman slunk into the logged-in annex and shut the door.
As if he were already slamming lead into Cantine’s body, Sark slammed stick after stick into the stove.
Then, although it was still early in the evening, he blew out the candle and threw himself upon his bunk, lying on hip and elbow, resting his head on his hand and staring like a graven image at the flame-dance on the darkened walls of the cabin.
Blera, peering through a chink in the back-room door, watched him thus hour by hour. It was a strange and weary vigil, but on after midnight his head slipped down from his hand.
“Jose,” she breathed, “he’s asleep. Now’s our chance. But we have to have the rifle to make our get-away good. Then you can stand him off. I’ll take the gun. I’m lighter than you, and the slab floor’s awful creaky.”
Cautiously she slipped out of the back room and as cautiously, inch by inch, edged across the main room toward Sark’s bunk.
Her figure as she crept was now lost in shadow, now etched out faintly by the leaping flamelight. She moved apparently without stepping, with the peculiar gliding grace that is the inheritance of North-born people.
The irregularities of the slab floor seemed to lose stability, to become fluid and flow under her feet like waves in a rapid. Not once did her moccasincd toes strike knot or scam. Not once did the limber slabs shriek as they bowed and sprung. Not once did the sleeping huskies stir from their dreams by the stove. She reached the bunk, and her mobile fingers closed on the weapon.