ireurs we fix
der thing."

Clavering exclaimed impatiently. "You have no time for fooling when there
are two women freezing in the bluff. Would I have come here, knowing you
could do what you liked with me, if I had meant any harm to you?"

"That's sense, any way," said one of the men. "I guess if he was playing
any trick, one of us would be quite enough to get even with him. You'll
take Truscott with you, Muller, and get out the bob-sled."

Muller nodded gravely. "I go," he said. "Lotta, you der big kettle fill
before you ride for Larry. We der bob-sled get ready."

"You are not going to be sorry," said Clavering. "This thing will pay you
better than farming."

The man by the door turned with a hard laugh. "Well," he said, "I guess
we'd feel mean for ever if we took a dollar from you!"

Clavering ignored the speech. "Do you want me?" he said, glancing at
Muller.

"No," said the man, who now took down the rifle from the wall. "Not just
yet. You're going to stop right where you are. The boys can do without me,
and I'll keep you company."

Ten minutes later the others drove away, and, with a significant gesture,
Clavering's companion laid the rifle across his knees.

XXI

CLAVERING APPEARS RIDICULOUS

There was silence in the log-house when the men drove away, and Clavering,
who sat in a corner, found the time pass heavily. A clock ticked noisily
upon the wall, and the stove crackled when the draughts flowed in; but
this, he felt, only made the stillness more exasperating. The big,
hard-faced bushman sat as motionless as a statue and almost as
expressionless, with a brown hand resting on the rifle across his knees,
in front of a row of shelves which held Miss Muller's crockery. Clavering
felt his fingers quiver in a fit of anger as he watched the man, but he
shook it from him, knowing that he would gain nothing by yielding to
futile passion.

"I guess I can smoke," he said flinging his cigar-case on the table. "Take
one if you feel like it."

The swiftness with which the man's eyes followed the first move of his
prisoner's hand was significant, but he shook his head deliberately.

"I don't know any reason why you shouldn't, but you can keep your cigars
for your friends," he said.

He drawled the words out, but the vindictive dislike in his eyes made them
very expressive, and Clavering, who saw it, felt that any attempt to gain
his jailer's goodwill would be a failure. As though to give point to