osterous.
If the man had really meant to kill him he would have done it before
this. He wouldn't dare; there were the Mounted. Other words of Downey
came to him, "If he does kill you, I'll get him." So there was a
possibility that the man would kill him. Why not? Who would ever
know? They would think he disappeared with Orcutt's money--would even
institute a world-wide search from him--but not in the bush. Thought
of the money nerved him to speak.

"How much will you take to get into your canoe and paddle back the way
you came?" he asked.

The breed laughed. "Wen I'm keel you I'm got you money, anyway. But
I'm ain' wan' so mooch de money. I'm wan' you heart." A dangerous
glitter supplanted the smouldering glow of the black eyes. "Me--I'm
stay ten year in de prison, for 'cause I'm keel my own fadder, an' dat
dam' good t'ing. For why I'm keel heem? 'Cause he whip me wit' de
dog-whip. In de prison de guards whip me mor' as wan t'ousan' tam. In
de night w'en I ain' can sleep 'cause my back hurt so bad from de whip,
I'm lay in de dark an' keel dem all. Every wan I ha' keel wan hondre
tam dere in de dark w'en I lay an' t'ink 'bout it. An' I know how I'm
goin' do dat. Den you hit me wit de whip on de trail. All right. I'm
ain' kin keel de guards. I keel you here in de bush; I shoot you in de
head, an' I'm cut de heart out before he quit jumpin'."

Wentworth moistened his lips with his tongue. "Downey will take you
in, if you do. And they'll hang you--choke you to death with a rope."

"No. Downey ain' kin fin'. I'm bur' you in de bush--all but de heart.
I'm keep de heart all tam."

"Good God, man, you couldn't kill me like that--in cold blood!" Beyond
the fire the half-breed laughed, a dry evil laugh that held nothing of
mirth. With a scream of terror Wentworth leaped to his feet and
crashed into the bush.

Beside the fire Alex Thumb laughed--and spread his blankets for the
night.

Four hours later the breed wriggled from his blanket and lighted the
fire. While the water heated for his tea, he carried the two canoes
back into the scrub and cached them, together with the two packs. He
swallowed his breakfast and picking up his rifle walked slowly into the
bush, his eyes on the ground. A mile away the lips twisted into their
sardonic grin as he noted where the fleeing man had floundered through
a muskeg, the flattened grass telling of his frequent falls. In a
balsam thicket he lifted a scr