“The deuce!  And our outfit?  Is it ready?”

“To the last can o’ beans!”

“And your plan, Donald?”

All at once the old mountaineer’s eyes were aflame with eagerness as he came nearer to Aldous.

“Get out of Tete Jaune to-night!” he cried in a low, hissing voice that quivered with excitement.  “Hit the trail before dawn!  Strike into the mountains with our outfit—­far enough back—­and then wait!”

“Wait?”

“Yes—­wait.  If they follow us—­fight!”

Slowly Aldous held out a hand.  The old mountaineer’s met it.  Steadily they looked into each other’s eyes.

Then John Aldous spoke: 

“If this had been two days ago I would have said yes.  But to-night—­it is impossible.”

The fingers that had tightened about his own relaxed.  Slowly a droop came into MacDonald’s shoulders.  Disappointment, a look that was almost despair settled in his eyes.  Seeing the change, Aldous held the old hunter’s hand more firmly.

“That doesn’t mean we’re not going to fight,” he said quickly.  “Only we’ve got to plan differently.  Sit down, Donald.  Something has been happening to me.  And I’m going to tell you about it.”

A little back from the fire they seated themselves, and Aldous told Donald MacDonald about Joanne.

He began at the beginning, from the moment his eyes first saw her as she entered Quade’s place.  He left nothing out.  He told how she had come into his life, and how he intended to fight to keep her from going out of it.  He told of his fears, his hopes, the mystery of their coming to Tete Jaune, and how Quade had preceded them to plot the destruction of the woman he loved.  He described her as she had stood that morning, like a radiant goddess in the sun; and when he came to that he leaned nearer, and said softly: 

“And when I saw her there, Donald, with her hair streaming about her like that, I thought of the time you told me of that other woman—­the woman of years and years ago—­and how you, Donald, used to look upon her in the sun, and rejoice in your possession.  Her spirit has been with you always.  You have told me how for nearly fifty years you have followed it over these mountains.  And this woman means as much to me.  If she should die to-night her spirit would live with me in that same way.  You understand, Donald.  I can’t go into the mountains to-night.  God knows when I can go—­now.  But you——­”

MacDonald had risen.  He turned his face to the black wall of the forest.  Aldous thought he saw a sudden quiver pass through the great, bent shoulders.

“And I,” said MacDonald slowly, “will have the horses ready for you at dawn.  We will fight this other fight—­later.”

CHAPTER XII

For an hour after Donald MacDonald had pledged himself to accompany Joanne and Aldous on their pilgrimage to the grave in the Saw Tooth Range the two men continued to discuss the unusual complications in which they had suddenly become involved, and at the same time prepared themselves a supper of bacon and coffee over the fire.  They agreed upon a plan of action with one exception.  Aldous was determined to return to the town, arguing there was a good strategic reason for showing himself openly and without fear.  MacDonald opposed this apprehensively.