hite Chief to
see her alone. Since the night of the Potlatch dance she had talked
with him only in the presence of a third person. Strange to say she
found now that she could look him squarely in the eyes, but when she
did so it was as if steel met steel. The feeling that she was playing
a game of wits against the autocrat of Katleean was not without its
interest for her. It was impossible entirely to conceal her growing
hostility toward the man, and she knew that her wordless antagonism was
felt by Kilbuck. To her anxiety she knew also that instead of
diminishing his appetite for her, it increased it. She was growing
eager to be away.

The outfitting went forward daily. Jean and Loll spent many hours
ashore exploring the vicinity with Senott or Kayak Bill. Sometimes the
visitors caught a glimpse of the tweed-clad young man who seemed so
quiet and aloof, and who, even when not drinking, avoided them all.
Ellen observed a certain interest in him growing in Jean. A tentative
question or two put to Kayak Bill revealed this, though it availed her
nothing. The old hootch-maker, muttering something about "everybody to
his own cemetery" had branched off to relate something he had "hearn
tell" when he was "a-punchin' o' cows down in Texas."

Ellen, as well as Jean, wondered at the presence in Katleean of such a
man as Harlan, and the reason for his connection with the dead
Naleenah. Understanding of another's lapses comes with years and Jean,
Ellen knew, was too young fully to realize what this young man's
dissipation portended.

Ellen kept a sharp eye on Harlan. Though she herself shared Jean's
mild curiosity and faint pity, she managed to keep her sister at a safe
distance from him. She intended very carefully to guard Jean.

Sometimes, in the evening, when the girl stood on the after-deck of the
_Hoonah_, her violin tucked beneath her chin, her eyes on the dreaming
radiance of the sunset, Ellen studied her as she played. She wondered,
if in her heart, the young girl played to him, and if he heard. And
once, to her anxiety, as she sat listening to the silvery music
floating out over the water, she had caught a shadow moving on the
shore--had seen a figure move stealthily down a hidden trail to the
Point beyond the Indian Village and lie behind a great boulder,
listening. . . .

The outfitting for the Island was nearly complete now. Each of the new
acquaintances at Katleean contributed, with friendly inte