reeze came stealing out of the
cloud-banks with the chill of snow in its breath.

Bivens insisted on going out at once, against the advice of Stuart and
the protest of the guide. He not only insisted on going after the ducks
but, what was worse, swore that he was going to get his mail and
telegrams from the shore.

Stuart protested vigorously.

"I've told you that the guide is the only man who can run that tender
over the crooked course to the mainland, and if he goes away we'll have
no one to take us out."

"What do you need a guide for? It's not a half-mile to those blinds.
I've seen you every day go back and forth in plain view of the yacht.
Nan could row out there and back by herself. Send him ashore. Don't you
know how to put out your own decoys?"

He spoke with the stubbornness of a spoiled child.

"If a bad blow comes we'll need two strong men to handle the boat."

"Rot!" Bivens cried. "We've got two tenders. Send your guide ashore
with one of the sailors to run his engine. The other man can tow us out
and back."

Against his judgment he allowed Bivens to have his way.

The little man clambered on deck and bustled about, giving orders to
the sailor who was stowing the lunch and ammunition.

When Stuart stopped the tender at the first blind, about five hundred
yards away, Bivens protested.

"Here, here! I'm no mollycoddle if I have been sick. I can throw a
stone to this blind. This isn't the one I want. There it is down yonder
toward the end of that marsh. I saw thousands of ducks circling around
it yesterday."

"But they'll come here to-day," Stuart urged. "The wind has shifted and
they shift their course with the wind. This blind is all right."

"I won't have it!" Bivens stormed. "Go to the other!"

"This is all right to-day, I tell you," Stuart replied.

Bivens's face flushed with rage.

"Look here, Jim, I've given in to you every day we've been down here.
I'm going to have my way this time."

He turned to the sailor who was running the tender's engine and spoke
sharply.

"Go to that other blind!"

The sailor sprang to the wheel and the tender shot ahead. Stuart
settled back in his seat with angry disgust, and Bivens laughed.

"Cheer up, it's no use to give orders for a funeral yet. If we can't
get back to that yacht in fifteen minutes against any wind that blows
to-day, I'll eat my hat. I'm feeling better than I have for months. I'm
in for a good time. Don't be a piker."

Stuart det