when ralph got around the house nahnya was nowhere to be seen. he was not enough of a woodsman to find her tracks in the dead leaves and the pine needles. the river was her natural means of escape; cutting back to the trail, he ran to the point. there was no sign of her. drawn up on the beach and tied to a branch he saw the dugout she had brought. there were no tracks in the sand to show she had returned, nor any impression of another boat having been pushed off.

ralph rushed up and down the shore looking for her, or for her tracks. "she must go by the river," he told himself; "the forest is impenetrable." with every minute his heart sank; he knew he was no match for nahnya in the wilderness. making a longer sally downstream, he finally found her tracks where she had leaped over the bank, and had set off down the beach. he followed after with renewed hope. after running a quarter of a mile he suddenly pulled himself up. "i'll never catch her this way," he thought. "she must have a boat down here to cross. she'll only leave me stranded on the shore. she's got to go home. i must follow her there by water."

he made his way back to the point, and thence to the work-shack, where he borrowed an axe and an auger, without meeting any one. returning to the mouth of the creek he searched until he found a great, dry trunk, that had been thrown high by a freshet. he set to work to chop it into four lengths to make a raft. his right arm was still far from fit to swing an axe, but an indomitable resolution kept him at work. progress was slow; the minutes escaped him maddeningly. "never mind," he told himself, "i'll go straight to the bowl of the mountains. she does not know that i can find my way there."

by and by jim sholto pushed his way through the bushes, and, descending the bank, sat down on a boulder. ralph, with a glance, went on with his work. jim made a great business of searching for a suitable twig at his feet. he started to peel it, pursing up his lips in a noiseless whistle. downright jim had no talent for dissimulation; perturbation, dismay, and anger were plainly visible, struggling with his elaborate unconcern. he was keeping a tight hold on himself.

"so you're going to leave us?" he said, very off-hand.

"i must," muttered ralph.

"i should 'a' thought you'd had your lesson against travelling alone. you ain't in no shape to swing an axe or drive a paddle!"

"can't help it," said ralph.

"what'll you do for food, gun, blankets, to keep life in you?"

"i suppose you will sell me what i need. i have money."

"money's of no use to me here," said jim grimly.

"then i won't trouble you," said ralph quickly.

jim showed a certain compunction. "it ain't a question of money when you're short of necessities yourself," he explained.

"then the sooner you are quit of me the better," said ralph.

"you could stay here a while and work out your keep," said jim craftily.

ralph merely shook his head. they were silent, jim meanwhile transparently debating with himself how to open the subject again.

"look here!" he said testily. "i can't talk to you while you're swinging the axe. are you in such a rush you can't stop for five minutes?"

ralph put down his axe with none too good a grace, and sat down on another stone beside the creek's bed. his face showed a sullenness that promised badly for the results of their talk. ralph had conceived a great liking for the bluff and simple jim, but the situation was hopeless, and since he could not mend it, he saw nothing but to brazen it out. to protest his regrets he felt would be insincere, if not positively insulting to the scotchman.

jim was humbling himself for kitty's sake. he knew that the situation was too much for him, but he was obliged to try to mend it because there was no one else to help her.

"i took a fancy to you when you come," he said clumsily. "i can't see you go to make a fool of yourself, and keep my mouth shut."

ralph's nostrils dilated ominously. "i might as well be working," he said shortly. "this does no good."

"wait!" said jim, with what was in him rare patience. "you're inexperienced. any man that knows this country knows the fatal results of any connection between red and white."

ralph rose abruptly. "that's enough!" he said, tightlipped. "you have no call to interfere in my private affairs!"

jim suddenly exploded. "no call!" he shouted. "you talk like a fool! you're insane! i have a right to lock you up until you come to your senses."

"better not try it on," said ralph.

"insanity's the kindest name to put to it!" stormed jim. "there are uglier words!—coming here like you did, and making up to my little daughter, and beguiling her with your city-bred tongue, and then to run off after——"

"it's a lie!" cried ralph. "i was coming after the other girl when i had my accident. and i never made love to kitty, neither by word, nor look, nor touch! ask her!"

"ah, you'd hide behind her now," sneered jim. "she has her pride!"

roused to a blind fury by the unjust taunt, ralph reached for his axe—but he could not fight kitty's father. his arms dropped to his sides. "oh, for god's sake, let me go, and forget me!" he cried brokenly.

"ye came to her sick and starving!" cried jim accusingly; "she took ye in and fed ye, and nursed ye back to life again! what does she get for it? i found her—— oh! it drives me mad to think on! i could kill ye—but that would only break her heart! ye miserable jack-a-dandy! what she can see in ye beats me!"

"what can i do?" cried ralph despairingly. "it's not my fault! tell me what to do, and i'll do it!"

"stay here," said jim. "give up this insane chase, and make good here."

ralph shrugged helplessly. "it's impossible," he said sullenly. "i'd be no good to kitty if my heart was down the river."

"your heart!" echoed jim disgustedly. he raised his clenched fists. "grant me patience!"

he was interrupted by the sound of kitty's voice calling him. in the hollow where ralph was building his raft they were invisible both from the trail, and from the camping-place on the point. jim answered the hail sulkily. presently kitty, white-faced and wide-eyed, came pushing through the bushes.

"what are you doing here?" she demanded of her father.

thus to be addressed by one of his children brought the skies tumbling about the old-fashioned father's head. he gaped at her stupidly. "that's a nice way to speak to me!" he cried, puffing out his cheeks.

it had no effect on her now. the gentle kitty was transformed. "i believe you were trying to persuade him to stay here!" she cried, with flashing eyes.

"well—well," stammered jim, thoroughly confounded. "i was doing it for your sake!"

a little cry of helpless anger escaped her. "how can you shame me so?" she murmured.

"shame you?" said poor jim. "if you want a thing you've got to fight for it, ain't you?"

"i don't want him!" she cried. "let him go! the sooner he goes the better i'll be pleased! understand, both of you, he is repulsive to me! i never want to see him again as long as i live!"

it was the third time that day that ralph had been denounced. he was only human. his self-love was wounded. "what's the matter with you all?" he cried. "i'm neither a leper nor a crook! why should i be blamed for what nobody could help?"

"come back to the house," said kitty imperiously to her father.

jim followed her as if he had been whipped. "god save the wumman!" he muttered. "blest if i know what she wants!"

ralph returned to his work with a savage zest, and wholly unmindful of the pain in his shoulder. it was an impossible situation; there was nothing he could do, therefore no use thinking about it. the only thing was to get away as soon as he could. he bored holes in the ends of his four logs, and cutting two cross-pieces bored them and fastened the whole frame together with stout wooden pegs. by the time it was done the afternoon was far advanced. he floated his craft out into the river, and, pulling it up on the sand, took the auger and the axe back to the work-shack.

jim sholto, busy with the furnaces, turned a grim, hard face at his entrance.

"will you sell me food and a gun and a blanket?" asked ralph stiffly.

"it's waiting for you in the kitchen," was the harsh answer. "no dog shall starve through me."

ralph swallowed the affront. the two men went to the kitchen. the stuff was lying on the table: gun, ammunition belt, double blanket, and packet of food. kitty was not visible.

"pay me what you like," said jim carelessly.

"it's worth fifty dollars," ralph said, counting out the money.

"here's something else that belongs to you," said jim, holding out the necklace with a sneer.

ralph pocketed it without comment. gathering the slender outfit in his arms, he left the shack. there were no good-byes.

everything was now clear for his departure, and as he set foot on the trail to the river he breathed more freely. he bitterly regretted what had happened, but since he could not mend it there was relief in putting it behind him. down the river was nahnya.

halfway to the camping-place he stopped and stood fast to listen with a horrible sinking of the heart. he thought he heard men's voices ahead of him. he thought he recognized the voices. he heard them again, and could no longer doubt. the worst had happened. he paused, frantically debating what to do. his way was cut off in front; they were already in possession of the raft that had caused him such pains to make. behind him was the grim and angry father. no help there! while ralph hung in agonized indecision joe mixer hove in sight in the trail ahead, and, seeing him, set up a loud shout.

ralph cast the blanket and the bag of food from him, and hanging on to the rifle and ammunition, darted into the woods. joe mixer, shouting the news over his shoulder, came plunging after him. the other three men caught up joe's cries, and crashed into the underbrush. the surprised forest rang like the halls of bedlam with shouts and crashes on every hand.

ralph pressed his elbows against his ribs, and ran, breathing deep for endurance. he headed east into the thickest of the woods, meaning to strike back to the river if he could distance them a little. he judged from the sounds that they had spread out fanwise behind him. none of them caught sight of him again. he ran with despair in his heart, for there was no escape ahead. suppose he did outdistance them, there was no place to run to, and nothing to do. he could not build another raft with his bare hands.

the sounds behind him finally fell away a little, and ralph turned sharply to the left. breaking out of the woods, he scrambled down the bank almost in the same spot where he had found nahnya's tracks earlier. at the bottom he came face to face with philippe boisvert crouching in wait behind a boulder. ralph almost collided with him. before he could lift his arms, he was locked in the half-breed's sinewy embrace. he struggled with the strength of despair without being able to break it. meanwhile philippe shouted vociferously. joe mixer leaped down the bank and fell on ralph from behind. crusoe campbell and stack appeared, each ready to lend a hand. it was useless for ralph to struggle further.

"tie his hands!" shouted joe.

it was done with the thongs from the half-breed's moccasins. ralph was half-led, half-dragged along the beach, back to the camping-place. whenever he stumbled joe with foul oaths struck him in the face with his fist. joe was not susceptible to any sentiments of generosity toward a helpless enemy. crusoe campbell guffawed, and stack snickered. ralph set his teeth, and held his tongue. a cold hate distilled itself drop by drop in his heart.

jim sholto attracted by the noise of the chase was at the camping-place when they got there. seeing ralph's plight, he grimly smiled. ralph was stood, back against a tree, and a stout line wound about his body, and knotted behind the trunk.

meanwhile joe mixer blustered up to shake hands with jim. "you know me," he cried; "mixer of gisborne portage. these three gentlemen are friends of mine. from your smile i take it you've had a sample of this young crook's quality."

jim was not at all charmed by joe's effusiveness, but he was more enraged against ralph. "i know nothing to his good," he said grimly.

"let me tell you what he did to us," said joe. "landed below our camp in the night when we was all asleep, and set our boat adrift. we might have starved in the woods for him!"

ralph disdained to answer this impudent charge.

"where was this?" asked jim.

"thirty mile above the grand forks."

"you've been a long time coming down."

"we had a little business up the stanley," said joe.

ralph had at least the satisfaction of learning that he had made them sweat for ten days.

"how did he come here?" asked joe.

"sick and starving," said jim bitterly. "said he lost his boat in the stanley rapids."

"if he did, it's god's justice!" said joe piously.

ralph smiled peculiarly.

"what funny business has he been up to around your camp?" asked joe.

"that's my affair," said jim grimly. "i will deal with him as i see fit."

joe looked at him with an ugly glitter, and decided to swallow the rebuke. "sure!" he said easily. "he's got a pardner," he went on, "a good-looking indian wench who calls herself annie crossfox. has she been around here?"

ralph roused himself sharply. "sholto, think how you answer!" he cried. "you and i have our differences, but you're an honest man! you've got nothing to do with this vermin! look in their faces; it's written plain enough there. they can't look in a man's eyes, the mean and cowardly——"

joe mixer turned purple, and springing toward ralph, struck him violently across the mouth with the back of his hand. "shut your head!" he cried with an oath.

ralph wiped the blood from his lips on his shoulder. "mean and cowardly blackguards without decency or manliness!" he cried defiantly.

joe made to strike him again, but big jim held his arm. "the man is bound," he said laconically.

"then let him keep a clean tongue in his head," muttered joe, turning away.

"for god's sake, think it over before you join in with them," ralph begged of jim.

"i see no reason why i should not answer a civil question," said jim judicially. jim thought he was being fair and disinterested, while he was being swayed by his feelings no less than an angry woman. "if the girl is straight she has nothing to fear from anybody. she was here this morning."

"aha!" cried joe delightedly.

ralph groaned. "you'll be sorry for this!" he muttered.

"where does she hang out?" joe asked eagerly.

"i don't know," said jim. "she went down the river."

"we'll get her!" cried joe.

"what do you want with her?" asked jim curiously, "and him there?"

joe looked disconcerted. his thick wits had no answer ready.

stack spoke up. "robbery," he said smoothly. "they broke into mr. mixer's store. there are no police in the country, so we have to bring them to justice ourselves."

"it's a lie!" cried ralph scornfully. "that little lick-spittle confessed to me that he had trailed me all the way from the coast, because he thought i'd made a strike here in the country!"

stack's eyes bolted; his little body writhed, and a curious, painful smile distorted his ashen face.

jim shrugged and turned away. "it's nothing to me," he said. "fight it out among yourselves."

as soon as jim was safely out of hearing, joe turned to ralph with an evil smile. "now i've got you where i want you!" he said triumphantly. he drew a significant line across his throat. "i can string you up to the tree over your head if i want, and go scot free for it! setting a traveller's boat adrift is worse than murder up here! and i got three witnesses to swear to it. no jury in this country would convict. they'd thank me for strangling a coyote!"

ralph proudly held his tongue.

his air of unconcern infuriated the ex-butcher. "damn you! i'll lower your proud stomach!" he cried. "i'll give the night to it! i've been saving up for this! before morning you'll be crawling and whining for mercy!"

a blow accompanied this. ralph instinctively jerked away his head, and it fell on his sore shoulder. as a result of his exertions with the axe it was now puffed up, throbbing, and exquisitely painful. when joe mixer's fist descended on it, ralph caught his breath with the pain.

joe chuckled. "so that's the sore place, eh?"

he struck him again. ralph took it with set teeth.

"are you going to tell me where the girl is hidden, and the gold?" asked joe.

ralph kept silent.

"answer me!" shouted joe.

"that's a fool's question," said ralph.

joe dug his knuckles into ralph's shoulder, and leaning the weight of his body on his arm, kneaded the throbbing place. ralph had never conceived of pain like this. it turned him sick; cold perspiration sprang out all over him. he felt consciousness beginning to slip. he bit his lip to keep from betraying any sound.

the other men began to remonstrate. "you'll do for him," said stack, "and we won't learn anything."

joe left off with a shrug. "i have all night," he said,

they set about getting their supper.