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On it goes through the forest mile after mile, up hill and down, until it emerges abruptly into the open country at the head of the "Deadwater," passes Morrison's, is met half a mile farther on by the new road leading down from Big Shanty camp, and continues straight ahead through a rough notch out to a valley twelve miles beyond. It was over this road that Alice Thayor went to her exile.
The figure, with a wistful look in his eyes, twisted his emaciated body and held out his hand. The trapper grasped the thin, sinewy fingers in both his own. "Friend," he said, turning to Thayor, "I'd like to make ye acquainted with my son Bob Dinsmore."
"And he needs a doctor," Thayor said, suddenly looking up. "You will, of course, stay until he is out of danger?" "No, I must return to New York," Sperry protested. "I feel I have already imposed on you and your good wife's hospitality; besides, there are my patients waiting. It is neither right nor fair to my assistant, Bainbridge. His last letter was rather savage," laughed Sperry.
Thayor, and you look hearty that's best of all." "I am, Billy who wouldn't be well and happy a morning like this? And I've got a piece of news for you, too good news; Mrs. Thayor is coming along with us. How will the new trail be a little rough for her, do you think?" "Not a bit of it! Clear going all the way besides it isn't more than two miles there and back. Freme has made a clean job of it.
The trapper drew a sliver of wood from the stove, shielded its yellow flame in the hollow of his hand and re-lit his pipe. Back in the shadow of the bunk lay Thayor drinking in every word of the strange talk so full of human kindness and so simple and genuine.
"And as it is a decision which concerns all of us," Thayor resumed, "I want to tell you now that I have decided to buy Big Shanty Brook as far as we can see, and build a home here for myself and my family." "Gee whimey!" cried the Clown. "I want to know!" The keen eyes of the trapper opened wide in astonishment. "I have left the matter of purchase," continued Thayor, "entirely in Holcomb's hands.
"Yes, but I'd hev to be twice as keerful. It'd be all up with me if they was to see me." "I will take care of that," replied Thayor briskly. "What do ye mean?" stammered Dinsmore. "I mean that you shall take me to them to-morrow." "But I ain't goin' to let ye risk yer life if I " "I mean what I say, Dinsmore. I start at daylight."
That's the East Branch roaring." "Oh I'm just crazy to see it!" cried Margaret. "It was on the West Branch you killed the deer, wasn't it, daddy?" Thayor nodded and smiled. "Now look, puss!" he commanded, as they reached the rough bridge spanning the East Branch. Margaret peered down into the heavy black water a hundred feet below them. "Daddy, it's gorgeous simply gorgeous," exclaimed Margaret.
"I dunno; I ain't never laid eyes on her since," he answered wearily. "I can't even ask no one; father said he heard she was in Montreal, where Bergstein had some hold on her. I'd have took her back if I'd been free. 'T won't never be no use now I won't never be free, Mr. Thayor." Again silence fell upon the group; each one was occupied with his own thoughts.
She was still weak from shock, but she went to work with Margaret and Annette, brewing a pail of tea, while Thayor, Holcomb and the rest straightened out their weird bivouac in the acrid opal haze. The Clown was again busy with his fry-pan, the old dog watching him with bloodshot eyes. There was little or no conversation during the preparation of that hurried meal.
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