Part 10 (1/2)
Cherry left the two of them there, and long after she had gone to bed she heard the murmur of their voices.
”It's all arranged,” they advised her at the breakfast-table. ”We leave to-morrow.”
”To-morrow?” she echoed, blankly.
”To-morrow?” likewise questioned Fraser, in alarm. ”Oh, say! You can't do that. My feet are too sore to travel. I've certainly got a bad pair of 'dogs.'”
”We start in the morning. We have no time to waste.”
Cherry turned to the fisherman. ”You can't get ready so soon, George.”
”I'm ready now,” answered the big fellow.
She felt a sudden dread at her heart. What if they failed and did not return? What if some untoward peril should overtake them on the outward trip? It was a hazardous journey, and George Balt was the most reckless man on the Behring coast. She cast a frightened glance at Emerson, but none of the men noticed it. Even if they had observed the light that had come into those clear eyes, they would not have known it for the dawn of a new love any more than she herself realized what her reasonless fears betokened. She had little time to ponder, however, for Emerson's next words added to her alarm:
”We'll catch the mail-boat at Katmai.”
”Katmai!” she broke in, sharply. ”You said you were going by the Iliamna route.”
”The other is shorter.”
She turned on Balt, angrily. ”You know better than to suggest such a thing.”
”I didn't suggest it,” said Balt. ”It's Mr. Emerson's own idea; he insists.”
”I'm for the long, safe proposition every time,” Fraser announced, as if settling the matter definitely, languidly filling his pipe.
Boyd's voice broke in curtly upon his revery. ”You're not going with us.”
”The h.e.l.l I ain't!” exploded the other. ”Why not?”
”There won't be room. You understand--it's hard travelling with three.”
”Oh, see here, now, pal! You promised to take me to the States,” the adventurer demurred. ”You wouldn't slough me at this gravel-pit, after you _promised?”_ He was visibly alarmed.
”Very well,” said Emerson, resignedly, ”If you feel that way about it, come along; but I won't take you east of Seattle.”
”Seattle ain't so bad,” Fraser replied. ”I guess I can pick up a pinch of change there, all right. But Kalvik--Wow!”
”Why do you have to go so soon?” Cherry asked Emerson, when the two others had left them.
”Because every day counts.”
”But why the Katmai route? It's the stormy season, and you may have to wait two weeks for the mail-boat after you reach the coast.”
”Yes; but, on the other hand, if we should miss it by one day, it would mean a month's delay. She ought to be due in about ten days, so we can't take any chances.”
”I shall be dreadfully worried until I know you are safely over,” said the girl, a new note of wistful tenderness in her voice.
”Nonsense! We've all taken bigger risks before.”