Won't you do one decent thing before
you die?"

"Bah! I'm all right."

"I'll get you a doctor if you'll tell us where she is. If you
don't--I'll--let you die. For God's sake, man, speak up!"

The wounded man strove to rise, but could not, then considered for a
moment before he said:

"I sent her away."

"Where?"

"Up-river, on that freighter that left last night. She'll go out by
Skagway, and I'll join her later, where I can have her to myself. She's
forty miles up-river now, and getting farther every minute--oh, you
can't catch her!"

The three men stared at one another blankly.

"Why did she go?" said Gale, dully.

"Because I told her who she was, and who you are; because she thinks
you killed her mother; because she was glad to get away." Now that he
was grown too weak to inflict violent pain, the man lied malevolently,
gloating over what he saw in the trader's face.

"Never mind, old man, I'll bring her back," said Burrell, and laid a
comforting hand on Gale's shoulder, for the fact that she was safe, the
fact of knowing something relieved him immensely; but Stark's next
words plunged him into even blacker horror than the trader felt.

"You won't want her if you catch her. Runnion will see to that."

"Runnion!"

"Yes, I sent him with her."

The lover cried out in anguish, and hid his face in his hands.

"He's wanted her for a long time, so I told him to go ahead--"

None of them noticed Poleon Doret, who, upon this unnatural confession,
alone seemed to retain sufficient control to doubt and to reason. He
was thinking hard, straightening out certain facts, and trying to
square this horrible statement with things he had seen and heard
to-night. All of a sudden he uttered a great cry, and bolted out into
the darkness unheeded by Gale and Burrell, who stood dazed and
distraught with a fear greater than that which was growing in Stark at
sight of his wounds.

The gambler looked down at his injuries, opened and closed the fingers
of his hand as if to see whether he still maintained control of them,
then cried out at the two helpless men:

"Well, are you going to let me bleed to death?"

It brought the soldier out of his trance.

"Why--no, no! We'll get a doctor."

But Gale touched him on the shoulder and said:

"He's too weak to get out. Lock him in, and let him die in the dark."

Stark cursed affrightedly, for it is a terrible thing to bleed to death
in the dark, and in spite of himself the