. She was
pitifully aloof, the broad expanse of George's back turned toward her
fire speaking eloquently.

"You are on a hunting trip, I take it?" offered Max as they sat down,
each man having brought out and lighted his pipe. "Just pleasure of
course? There's no gold in here, you know," he ended with a laugh.

Sothern turned his eyes toward Drennen and brought them back to the
fire without answering. Max's eyes upon him Drennen spoke simply.

"A hunting trip, yes. Hunting the same game you are after."

Ernestine looked up quickly, her hands clenching spasmodically. George
turned his meat, spat into the coals, and sought for salt.

"Mr. Drennen," said the lieutenant coldly, "it's just as well to
understand each other right now. I represent the law here; the law at
so early a stage as this considers no personal equation. A private
quarrel must stand aside. I know what you mean; you know what I mean."

"Lieutenant," answered Drennen gravely, "the law is not yet full grown
in the North Woods. Here a man steps aside for nothing. Yes, as you
say, I think we understand each other."

"By God!" cried Max angrily, "I know what is in your heart, yours and
George's here! It's murder; that's the name for it! And I tell you
that you are going to keep your hands off! When we find these people
they are my prisoners, it's my sworn duty to lead them back to a place
where they can stand trial, and I am going to take them. Remember
that."

Drennen, having spoken all that he could have said if he talked all
night long, made no answer. Ernestine, her two hands at her breast,
crouched rocking back and forth, in a sort of silent agony. George,
eating swiftly and noisily, did not look up.

In an instant the old atmosphere which had hovered over the camp came
back, electrically charged with distrust, constraint, aloofness.
Sothern's heavy brows were drawn low, the firelight showing deep, black
shadows in the furrows of his forehead. In a moment he got to his feet
and went to where Ernestine sat, his hat in his hand, kind words of
greeting upon his lips for a lonely woman. She grew suddenly sullen;
in a moment the sullen mood melted in a burst of tears, and she was
talking with him incoherently.

George and Drennen had not met to speak since that night, long ago,
when they had diced and fought at Pere Marquette's. Now neither gave
the least sign that he had seen the other.

* * * * *