While they were talking Burrell came in, and "No Creek" saw that the
night had affected the youth even more than it had Gale, or at least
he showed the marks more plainly, for his face was drawn, his eyes
were sunken as if from hunger, and his whole body seemed to have
fallen away till his uniform hung upon him loose, unkempt, and
careless. It was as if hope had been a thing of avoirdupois, and
when taken away had caused a shrinkage. He had interrogated Stark
again after getting the doctor, but the man had only cursed at him,
declaring that his daughter was out of reach, where he would take
care to keep her, and torturing the lover anew by linking Runnion's
name with the girl's till the young man fled from the sound of the
monster's voice back to his own quarters. He strove to keep the
image of Runnion out of his mind, for his reason could not endure
it. At such times he cried aloud, cursing in a way that was utterly
strange to a God-fearing man, only to break off and rush to the
other extreme, praying blindly, beseechingly, for the girl's safe-
keeping. At intervals an unholy impulse almost drove him to Stark's
cabin to finish the work Gale had begun, to do it coldly as a matter
of justice, for was he not the one who had put Necia into the hands
of that ruffian? Greeting Lee mechanically, he said to Gale:

"I can't wait much longer," and sank wearily into a seat. Almost the
next instant he was on his feet again, saying to the trader, as he
had said it a score of times already: "Runnion comes to me, Gale!
You understand he's mine, don't you?"

The old man nodded. "Yes! You can take him."

"Well, who do _I_ git?" asked Lee.