Part 24 (1/2)

”I won't come--I won't!” she hissed.

But he had already reached the rail. Her heart seemed to freeze with horror as he lifted her on to the seat and clasped her firmly round the waist, imprisoning her arms so that resistance became impossible.

”Stop!” yelled the Captain. ”You can't go that way----”

A gasp came from the crowd as they saw him take a deep breath and leap down with his burden. They disappeared beneath the filthy water, to come to the surface a few seconds later in exactly the same position as they had entered it--Angela with her arms held from behind, and the amazing husband swimming on his broad back, with head towards the nearest bank.

The current carried him down-stream, but his insh.o.r.e progress was swift and certain. A huge yell came from the admiring spectators as the _Silas P. Young_ pursued her course and rounded another bend.

Angela, stunned and terrified by this unexpected precipitation into ice-cold water, lay like a log with eyes closed. She lost all account of time in the mental paralysis that gripped her.... Only when they touched bottom and Jim commenced to carry her to the bank did her full sense come into operation. She stood in her sodden clothing, her pale, beautiful face quivering as she regarded this monster of a man.

”You brute! You heartless ruffian! Oh, if I could only make you feel what I think of you!”

”If I could only make you feel just what I think of you!” he said slowly.

”But we're both trying to do just what can't be done. Let's drop it and find the hoss. Better foller behind, and not try running away. Maybe you think it amuses me to yank you back like this every time--but it don't.”

He began to tramp along a beaten path that wound up over the hill. Angela followed, with swift steps, for a cold wind blew down the valley and set her teeth chattering. Overhead thick gray clouds obliterated the sun. A mile farther on Jim stopped and, slipping off his coat, went to her.

”You're cold. Put it on.”

”No--thanks.”

”Put it on!”

”Why this sudden regard for my welfare?”

It was like a stab to him. She saw it and was pleased. But later on she was a little ashamed of that throb of transient joy. She would have liked to express her regrets, but her pride prevented such a descent.

They found the horse, pawing impatiently at the ground. He whinnied plaintively as he heard Jim's footfall and the call that the latter's lips gave utterance to. Without a word Jim lifted Angela into the saddle and mounted behind her. A ”cluck” from his lips, and the mare went galloping across the uneven country towards Red Ruin. They arrived there just as the first flakes of snow began to fall.

For a whole week no single word pa.s.sed between them. The first snow had come, and every day found the thermometer registering a lower temperature.

In a week or two the whole land would be in the grip of the pitiless winter. What were Jim's intentions? She saw him pondering over a map and marking routes. After a trip into Dawson he came back with a team of dogs and a new sled, plus dog-feed, snow-shoes, and sundry other gear. One evening he broke the silence.

”Angela!”

She lifted her head from the book that she was reading.

”We're hitting the trail to-morrow.”

”To where?”

”North--the Chandalar River district. There's nothing left worth staking down here. But there's gold up there, and we can't afford to waste time.”

”Very well,” she said icily, and turned to the book again.

He put his arm across and closed the book.

”Better git this thing clear.”

”Isn't it clear?”