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Updated: May 12, 2025
She hurried down to the water's edge and addressed the two gamblers in a business-like tone: "We've no time to lose. Which one of you wants to lead off with Doret and Pierce?" The men exchanged glances. It was Broad who finally spoke. "We been figuring it would please us better to walk," he said, mildly. "Suit yourselves," the Countess told them, coolly. "But it's a long walk from here to Dawson."
Doret, inscrutable and silent, lounged against the pilot-house smoking innumerable cigarettes, which he rolled from squares of newspaper, his keen eyes apparently scanning every foot of their slow way; but when night fell, at last, and the bank faded from sight, he tossed the last butt overboard, smiled grimly into the darkness, and went below.
Unconsciously the strong young life within her had clamored for companionship, and it was this that had drawn her to Poleon Doret who would ever remain a boy and it was this that drew her to the young Kentuckian; this, and something else in him, that the others lacked. "Now that I think it over," he continued, "I'd rather have you like me than have the men do so." "Of course," she nodded.
Doret picked him up by the elbows and kissed him again and again, then set him down gently, at which Molly scrambled forward, and without word or presentation speech gave him her heart's first treasure. She held out the three-legged puppy, for a gun and a dog should ever go together; then, being of the womankind aforesaid, she began to cry as she kissed her pet good-bye on its cold, wet nose.
It's on the square and would give you a lead into something bigger. You're wise; why, you might turn into a shore magnate, with Bella here dressed up in stones." Doret shook his head. "Treasure on earth," he thought; "moth and rust." But it would be hopeless to attempt any explanation. "No," he said; "we'll play it out here." "We will?" Bella echoed him. "Indeed! We will?"
"Alone, then?" "That's right. Wanted me to meet him, and showed me a roll of money. Me!" her contempt sharpened. "He was young?" "Young nothing, with gray in his shoebrush mustache." By such small things, Lemuel Doret reflected, the freshness that had fixed June Bowman in the girl's memory, men were marked and followed.
June Bowman was different. There was no rush about the latter to-morrow, next week would do equally. There was no doubt either. Lemuel Doret gave a passing thought, like a half-contemptuous gesture of final dismissal, to so much that had lately occupied him. The shadow of a smile disfigured his metallic lips.
But there was no time for further talk now, for the others were close upon them. As they came into view, Gale exclaimed: "Well, if he hasn't brought Runnion along!" "Humph!" grunted Doret. "I don' t'ink much of dat feller. Wat's de matter wit' 'No Creek, anyhow?" The three new arrivals dropped down upon the moss to rest, for the up-trail was heavy and the air sultry inside the forest.
As the stranger staggered back, the Frenchman vaulted the bar, but, though swift as a cat, the soldier, who had also leaped, was before him. Aiming a sweeping downward blow with his Colt, Burrell clipped the Skagway man just above the ear, and he reeled; then as he fell the officer struck wickedly again at his opponent's skull, but Doret seized him by the arm. "Ba Gar, don't kill 'im twice!"
The song fluctuated and died; the dancer dropped exhausted into her chair. Then Lemuel saw June Bowman. He was only a short distance away, and without Bella seated alone but talking to the occupants of the next table. Lemuel Doret was composed. In his pocket he removed the automatic pistol from its rubber case. Still there was no hurry Bowman was half turned from him, absolutely at his command.
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