with inductive force.

Embarked on the toboggan slope of untruth the sailor slid smoothly
downwards.

"Events have colored your imagination, Miss Deane. Even in England men
often preserve such things for future use. They can be reloaded."

"Yes, I have seen keepers do that. This is different. There is an air
of--"

"There is a lot to be done," broke in Jenks emphatically. "We must
climb the hill and get back here in time to light another fire before
the sun goes down. I want to prop a canvas sheet in front of the cave,
and try to devise a lamp."

"Must I sleep inside?" demanded Iris.

"Yes. Where else?"

There was a pause, a mere whiff of awkwardness.

"I will mount guard outside," went on Jenks. He was trying to improve
the edge of the axe by grinding it on a soft stone.

The girl went into the cave again. She was inquisitive, uneasy.

"That arrangement--" she began, but ended in a sharp cry of terror. The
dispossessed birds had returned during the sailor's absence.