of her under-jacket. Wapi flattened out near the door, watched every
movement she made.

When the dunnage sack was filled, she returned to Peter. "Won't it be a
joke on Captain Rydal!" she exulted. "You see, we aren't gong to let him
know anything about it." She appeared not to observe Peter's surprise.
"You know how I hate him, Peter dear," she went on. "He is a beast. But
Mr. Blake has done a great deal of trading with him, and he doesn't want
Captain Rydal to know the part he is taking in getting us away. Not that
Rydal would miss us, you know! I don't think he cares very much whether
you live or die, Peter, and that's why I hate him. But we must humor Mr.
Blake. He doesn't want him to know."

"Odd," mused Peter. "It's sort of--sneaking away."

His eyes had in them a searching question which Dolores tried not to see
and which she was glad he did not put into words. If she could only fool
him another hour--just one more hour.

It was less than that--half an hour after she had finished the dunnage
sack--when they heard footsteps crunching outside and then a knock at the
door. Wapi answered with a snarl, and when Dolores opened the door and
Blake entered, his eyes fell first of all on the dog.

"Attached himself, eh?" he greeted, turning his quiet, unemotional smile
on Peter. "First white woman he has ever seen, and I guess the case is
hopeless. Mrs. Keith may have him."

He turned to her. "Are you ready?"