"I hev," said Blackstock.
"An' air ye sure it's a good one—good enough to drag us 'way out here on?" persisted Jackson.
"I'm bankin' on it," answered Blackstock.
"An' so's Jim, I'm thinkin'," suggested MacDonald, tentatively.
"Jim's idee an' mine ain't the same, exackly," vouchsafed Blackstock, after a pause, "but I guess they'll come to the same thing in the end. They're fittin' in with each other fine, so fur!"
"What'll ye bet that ye're not mistaken, the both o' yez?" demanded Jackson.
"Yer wages fur the whole summer!" answered Blackstock promptly.
Long looked satisfied. He knocked the ashes out of his pipe and proceeded to refill it.
"Oh, ef ye're so sure as that, Tug," he drawled, "I guess I ain't takin' any this time."
For a couple of hours after sunset the party continued to follow the trail, depending now entirely upon Jim's leadership. The dog, revived by his rest and his master's cold-water treatment, limped forward at a good pace, growling from time to time as a fresh pang in his wound reminded him anew of his enemy.