"What?" he asked.

"I shall kill Captain Rydal," she declared. "It is the only thing I can
do. Will you force me to do that, or will you help me? You have sledges
and many dogs, and we will pay. And I have judged you to be--a man."

He rose from the table, and for a moment his face was turned from her.
"You probably do not understand my position, Mrs. Keith," he said, pacing
slowly back and forth and chuckling inwardly at the shock he was about to
give her. "You see, my livelihood depends on such men as Captain Rydal. I
have already done a big business with him in bone, oil, pelts--and Eskimo
women."

Without looking at her he heard the horrified intake of her breath. It
gave him a pleasing sort of thrill, and he turned, smiling, to look into
her dead-white face. Her eyes had changed. There was no longer hope or
entreaty in them. They were simply pools of blue flame. And she, too,
rose to her feet.

"Then--I can expect--no help--from you."

"I didn't say that, Mrs. Keith. It shocks you to know that I am
responsible. But up here, you must understand the code of ethics is a
great deal different from yours. We figure that what I have done for
Rydal and his crew keeps sane men from going mad during the long months
of darkness. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to help you--and Peter.
I think I shall. But you must give me a little time in which to consider
the matter--say an hour or so. I understand that whatever is to be done
must be done quickly. If I make up my mind to take you to Fort
Confidence, we shall start within two or three hours. I shall bring you