he might possibly make his way to Myengeen's
village."

"Just let him try it. It's a hundred and fifty miles round by land.
Muskeg and down timber."

"But if he sticks to the river, Mary Moosa might bring him back help."

"She'll get no help from Myengeen. She's got to go to Enterprise for
help. Two weeks. Even a redbreast couldn't last two weeks in the bush.
And by that time we'll be----"

"Easy!" said Imbrie warningly.

"We'll be out of reach," she said, laughing.

"All right, it's a go," said Imbrie. "We'll leave him just as he is.
Pack up now."

Stonor glanced anxiously at Clare. Her face was deathly pale, but she
kept her head up.

"Do you think I'm going to go and leave him here?" she said firmly to
Imbrie.

"Don't see how you're going to help yourself," said he, without meeting
her eyes.

"If you put me in the dug-out I'll overturn it," she said promptly.

Imbrie was taken aback. "I'll tie you up," he muttered, scowling.

"You cannot tie me so tight that I can't overturn that cranky boat."

"You'll be the first to drown."

She smiled. "Do you think I value the life you offer me?" She held out
her hands to him. "Tie me and see."

There could be no mistaking the firmness of her resolve. Imbrie
hesitated and weakened. He turned to the breed woman questioningly.

She said in the Indian tongue: "What do you look at me for? I've told
you before that you're risking both our necks by taking her. The world
is full of skinny little pale-faced women, but you've only got one neck.
Better leave her with the man."

Imbrie shook his head slowly.

The woman shrugged. "Well, if you got to have her, fix it to suit
yourself." She ostentatiously went on with the packing.

Imbrie looked sidewise at Clare with a kind of hungry pain in his sullen
eyes. "I won't leave her," he muttered. "I'll take them both."

The woman flung up her hands in a passionate gesture. "Foolishness!" she
cried.

A new idea seemed to occur to Imbrie; he said in English: "I'll take the
redbreast for my servant. Upstream work is no cinch. I'll make him track
us. It'll be a novelty to have a redbreast for a servant."

Clare glanced anxiously at Stonor as if expecting an outbreak.

Imbrie asked with intolerable insolence: "Will you be my servant,
Redbreast?"

Clare's hands clenched, and she scowled at Imbrie like a little
fire-eater.

Stonor answered calmly: "If I have to be."

Clare's eyes darted to him full of relief and grati