variably a mud flat made gay
with water flowers. So crooked was the river that Jack-Knife Mountain,
the only object they could see above the willows, was now on their
right hand, now on their left.

On the turns they sometimes got a current of wind in their faces and
came to a dead stop. Now that they no longer required it, the wind was
momentarily strengthening.

"Wouldn't it be better to take the sail down?" Sam suggested.

"Can't tak' it down wi'out land on shore," Bela answered sullenly.

Sam comprehending what was the matter, chuckled inwardly. On the next
bend, seeing her struggles with the baffling air-currents, he asked
teasingly:

"Well, why don't you go ashore and take it down?"

"If I land, you promise not run away?" she said.

Sam laughed from a light heart. "Not on your life!" he said. "I'm my
own master now."

Bela had no more to say.

"Where are you bound for?" Sam presently asked.

"Down river," she answered.

"I'll have to be leaving you," said Sam mockingly. "I'm going the
other way. To the head of the lake."

"If you go back they catch you."

"I'll lie low till they're thrown off the scent. I'll walk around the
north shore."

"If you stay with me little while, pretty soon we meet police comin'
up," she suggested. "Then they can't touch you."

"Much obliged," replied Sam. "I've no fancy to be jumped on at night
again and tied up like a roasting fowl."

"I promise I not do that again," said Bela.

"Sure!" retorted Sam. "No doubt you've got plenty other tricks just as
good."

"If you look at me you see I speak truth," she murmured. "I your
friend, Sam."

The threatened break in her voice brought all his old disquiet surging
up again. As he put it, he suspected her of "trying to put one over on
him again." "I don't want to look at you!" he returned with a harsh
laugh.

An adverse puff of wind blew them into an overhanging willow-bush,
which became entangled with the sail and the stay-rope. Sam saw his
chance. Seizing the branches, he pulled himself to his feet and
managed to swing ashore at the cost only of wet ankles.

A sharp cry was wrung from Bela. "Sam, don't go!"

Gaining a sure footing on the bank, he faced her, laughing. "Well, how
about it now?"

There was nothing inscrutable about her face then. It worked with
emotion like any woman's.

"Don't go by yourself!" she pleaded. "You not know this country. You
got not'ing. No grub! No gun! No blanket!"

"I can walk