suddenly his own became grave, and he swung into his
argument all the impressiveness of his great bulk,

"Do you want to know how to get even?" he asked, shading each word. "Do
you want to know how to make those fellows sing so small you can't hear
them? Well, I'll tell you. TAKE OUT THIS DRIVE! Do it in spite of them!
Show them they're no good when they buck up against Thorpe's One!
Our boys died doing their duty--the way a riverman ought to. NOW HUMP
YOURSELVES! Don't let 'em die in vain!"

The crew stirred uneasily, looking at each other for approval of the
conversion each had experienced. Radway, seizing the psychological
moment, turned easily toward the blaze.

"Better turn in, boys, and get some sleep," he said. "We've got a hard
day to-morrow." He stooped to light his pipe at the fire. When he had
again straightened his back after rather a prolonged interval, the group
had already disintegrated. A few minutes later the cookee scattered the
brands of the fire from before a sleeping camp.

Thorpe had listened non-committally to the colloquy. He had maintained
the suspended attitude of a man who is willing to allow the trial of
other methods, but who does not therefore relinquish his own. At the
favorable termination of the discussion he turned away without comment.
He expected to gain this result. Had he been in a more judicial state
of mind he might have perceived at last the reason, in the complicated
scheme of Providence, for his long connection with John Radway.

Chapter LI

Before daylight Injin Charley drifted into the camp to find Thorpe
already out. With a curt nod the Indian seated himself by the fire, and,
producing a square plug of tobacco and a knife, began leisurely to fill
his pipe. Thorpe watched him in silence. Finally Injin Charley spoke
in the red man's clear-cut, imitative English, a pause between each
sentence.

"I find trail three men," said he. "Both dam, three men. One man go down
river. Those men have cork-boot. One man no have cork-boot. He boss."
The Indian suddenly threw his chin out, his head back, half closed
his eyes in a cynical squint. As by a flash Dyer, the scaler, leered
insolently from behind the Indian's stolid mask.

"How do you know?" said Thorpe.

For answer the Indian threw his shoulders forward in Dyer's nervous
fashion.

"He make trail big by the toe, light by the heel. He make trail big on
inside."

Charley arose and walked, after Dyer's springy fashi