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"Fingerless" Fraser, noticing the change in Balt and Emerson when they re- entered the store, questioned them as to what had happened; and in reply to his inquiry, Big George said: "We're going to tackle the Straits in a small boat." "What! Not on your life! Why, that's the craziest stunt I ever heard of. Don't you know " "Yes, we know," Emerson shut him up, brusquely.
Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn.
Although as yet the snows were barely beginning to move, the men knew they would shortly be forced to grope their way through dense clouds that would blot out every landmark, and the touch of which would be like the stroke of a red-hot rasp. Balt came close to Emerson, and bellowed into his ear: "What shall we do? Roll up in the bedding or run for it?" "How far is it to timber?"
A man passed them trundling a heavy truck, but seeing Big George, he paused, wiped the sweat from his face, then grinned and winked fraternally. "Hey! If this work is too heavy for you, why don't you quit?" growled Balt, but strangely enough the fellow took no offence.
"She is a friend," Emerson persisted doggedly, "and I admire her because she is a girl of spirit. If she had not been possessed of enough courage to disregard your instructions, I might have been forced to eject your watchman and take possession of one of your canneries." "We can't entertain all comers. We leave that to Miss Malotte." "And George Balt, eh?" "Dear! dear!" laughed Miss Wayland.
Not important enough to be angry about. The man's a clod." Warren looked at him bleakly. "I wasn't angry, Balt. The last time I saw Captain Mauser I was slung over his shoulder. He carried, tugged and dragged me some two miles through enemy fire." Balt Haer carried it off with a shrug. "Well, that's his profession. Category Military. A mercenary for hire. I assume he received his pay."
"Tell them to go to hell!" growled Balt from the open window above their head. A blasphemous outcry floated up from the launch, while heads protruded from the deck-house openings, the faces white in the slanting glare. "Why don't you heave to?" demanded a voice. Peasley stepped to the end of the bridge and called down: "I can't stop, my good man, they won't allow it, y' know.
I doubt if the captain is interested, particularly since you don't seem to be able to get beyond the protesting stage and have yet to come up with an answer." "I have an answer!" "Ah?" Balt Haer raised his eyebrows, mockingly. "Yes! Overthrow this silly status society. Resume the road to progress.
Fraser shouted something, but Emerson's whipping garments drowned the words, and without waiting to ascertain what the adventurer had said the young man ran forward and cut the dogs loose, while Balt and the guide fell to unlashing the sled, the tails of their parkas meanwhile snapping like boat sails, their cap strings streaming.
She was dumfounded by his sudden transformation, and delighted at first, but later, when she saw that he regarded her only as a means to an end, his cool assumption of leadership piqued her and she felt hurt. Constantine had been sent for Balt, with instructions to keep on until he found the fisherman, even if the quest carried him over the range.
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