could reach it silently enough
to surprise him. Beckoning the Indian to fall behind, he crept
forward, with his heart beating painfully, and stopped a moment just
outside the entrance. It was obvious that he had not been heard, but
he could not tell whether Clarke was alone. Then the Indian, creeping
silently up behind him, dragged the doorway open. Harding jumped
quickly through the entrance, and stood, ragged, unkempt, and strung
up, blinking in the unaccustomed light.

The tent had an earth floor, with a layer of reeds and grass thrown
down on one side. It was frail, and hinted at changing times and
poverty, for the original skin cover had been patched and eked out with
the products of civilization in the shape of cotton flour-bags and old
sacking. In the later repairs sewing twine had been used instead of
sinews. A wooden case stood open near the reeds, and Harding saw that
it contained glass jars and what looked like laboratory apparatus; a
common tin kerosene lamp hung from the junction of the frame poles,
which met at the point of the cone. A curious smell, which reminded
him of the paint factory, filled the tent, though he could not
recognize it.

As Harding entered, Clarke looked up from where he was bending over the
case. It was, Harding thought, a good test of his nerve; but his face
was imperturbable and he showed no surprise. There was silence for a
moment, while the Indian stood motionless, with his ax shining as it
caught the light, and Harding's lips grew firmly set. Then Clarke
spoke.

"So you have turned back! You found the muskeg too difficult to cross?
I suppose this fellow showed you the way here."

Harding felt worn out; he crossed the floor to the heap of reeds and
sat down facing Clarke.

"We have come for you," he announced abruptly; "and we must start at
once. My partner is very sick--fever--and you'll have to cure him."

Clarke laughed, without mirth.

"You're presuming on my consent."

"Yes," said Harding sternly; "I'm counting right on that. It wouldn't
be wise of you to refuse."

"I don't agree with you. A shout or a shot would bring in my friends,
and you'd find yourself in a very unpleasant position. You had better
understand that nobody troubles about what goes on up here--and I
believe I'm a person of some influence." He indicated Harding's guide.
"I don't know what this fellow's doing in this neighborhood, but he
belongs to a tribe the Stonies have a grudge