“Go on,” urged Aldous.  “We’re alone.”

Stevens bent so near that his tobacco-laden breath swept his companion’s cheek.

“He said he’d replace my lost outfit if I’d put you out of the way some time day after to-morrow!”

“Kill me?”

“Yes.”

For a few moments there was a silence broken only by their tense breathing.  Aldous had found the packer’s hand.  He was gripping it hard.

“Thank you, old man,” he said.  “And he believes you will do it?”

“I told him I would—­day after to-morrow—­an’ throw your body in the Athabasca.”

“Splendid, Stevens!  You’ve got Sherlock Holmes beat by a mile!  And does he want you to do this pretty job because I gave him a crack on the jaw?”

“Not a bit of it!” exclaimed Stevens quickly.  “He knows the girl is a stranger and alone.  You’ve taken an interest in her.  With you out of the way, she won’t be missed.  Dammit, man, don’t you know his system?  And, if he ever wanted anything in his life he wants her.  She’s turned that poison-blood of his into fire.  He raved about her here.  He’ll go the limit.  He’ll do anything to get her.  He’s so crazy I believe he’d give every dollar he’s got.  There’s just one thing for you to do.  Send the girl back where she come from.  Then you get out.  As for myself—­I’m goin’ to emigrate.  Ain’t got a dollar now, so I might as well hit for the prairies an’ get a job on a ranch.  Next winter I guess me ’n the kid will trap up on the Parsnip River.”

“You’re wrong—­clean wrong,” said Aldous quietly.  “When I saw your outfit going down among the rocks I had already made up my mind to help you.  What you’ve told me to-night hasn’t made any difference.  I would have helped you anyway, Stevens.  I’ve got more money than I know what to do with right now.  Roper has a thirty-horse outfit for sale.  Buy it to-morrow.  I’ll pay for it, and you needn’t consider yourself a dollar in debt.  Some day I’ll have you take me on a long trip, and that will make up for it.  As for the girl and myself—­we’re going on to Tete Jaune to-morrow.”

Aldous could see the amazed packer staring at him in the gloom.  “You don’t think I’m sellin’ myself, do you, Aldous?” he asked huskily.  “That ain’t why you’re doin’ this—­for me ’n the kid—­is it?”

“I had made up my mind to do it before I saw you to-night,” repeated Aldous.  “I’ve got lots of money, and I don’t use but a little of it.  It sometimes accumulates so fast that it bothers me.  Besides, I’ve promised to accept payment for the outfit in trips.  These mountains have got a hold on me, Stevens.  I’m going to take a good many trips before I die.”

“Not if you go on to Tete Jaune, you ain’t,” replied Stevens, biting a huge quid from a black plug.

Aldous had risen to his feet.  Stevens stood up beside him.