persistence that often wins
small issues,--seldom large ones. But I shall not help you."

"I shall stay here till you go."

"Then we shall be companions for some time. May I offer you tobacco,
monsieur?"

He smiled, though wryly and against his will. It was plain that we
were taking a certain saturnine enjoyment out of the situation. We
could hate each other well, and we were doing it, but we were both
starved for men's talk,--the talk of equals.

"It seems a pity to detain you," he mused. "You are obviously on
business. When I came up behind you I thought that I had never seen a
man work in such a frenzy of haste. There was sweat on your forehead."

I waved my pipe at him. I had the upper hand, and I felt cruelly
jovial. "It was haste to meet you," I assured him. "I missed you in
the fog, and feared you would reach camp before me."

"You feared me, monsieur?"

I felt an unreasoning impulse to be candid with him. The strange,
choking terror had swept back at that instant, and again it had me by
the throat. Yet here sat the cause of my terror before me, and he was
in my power.

"I feared your Indians." I spoke gravely. "Handle those Hurons
carefully, monsieur. It is a tricky breed."

"But I have no"---- He stopped, and looked at me strangely. "What
made you think that I was near?"

"For one thing I heard your axe yesterday."

"But yesterday I was five leagues from here."

I whistled through my teeth. I hate a useless lie. "I heard your
axe," I reiterated. "This morning you and your men passed me in the
fog."

He stared at me, then at the forest. "Monsieur, I have no men!"

"What?"

"I came alone."

"Monsieur, you are lying."

"It is you who are mad. Take your hands away!"

"I will let you go when you tell me the truth. Remember, your men
passed me this morning."

"I tell you, I came alone."

"Where are your Indians that Cadillac sent with you?"

"I sprained my ankle and they left me."

"Where did they go?"

"How should I know? I tell you they left me."

"Was Pemaou, the Huron, one of them?"

"He was guide. Monsieur, what do you mean?"

I could not answer. My throat was dry as if I breathed a furnace
blast. I looked at the canoe under my hands. It was not seaworthy.
"Will your canoe carry two?" I cried.

He nodded. His great rough face was sickly with suspense. "Monsieur,
what does this mean?"

I swore at him and at the hour he had made me lose. "Men p