“You’d have had him shot up,” he said.  “I know.  No.  If you’d known I was around it would have queered the hand I was playing.  Here, Bat, let’s get this thing right.  You could shoot up a dozen Idepskis, and there’d be others to replace ’em.  Hellbeam’s dogs’ll never let up.”  He shook his head.  “It’s a play that’ll go on to the—­end.  I know that.  I tell you I’ve got past caring a curse about things.  When the end comes, what does it matter!  Not a thing.  It’s useless talking, old friend,” he said, as Bat attempted to break in, “quite useless.  But don’t reckon I’m a willing quitter.  I’ll play the game till it can’t be played longer.  And when I’ve got to I’ll throw my hands up.  Not before.  But Idepski can’t follow my trail.”

“But he ken cut it,” Bat cried, desperation finding expression in a clenched, out-held fist.

“Can he?”

The missionary smiled confidently.  And Bat suddenly flung out both hands.

“Say, Les,” he cried, “do you think I want to see my partner, and best friend, hounded to a life of hell by that swine, Hellbeam?  It breaks me to death the thought of it.  Man, man, it sets me nigh crazed thinking that way.  Don’t I count with you?  Don’t the others you came along to help count?  That dandy gal I’ve heard you wish was your own daughter?  Don’t she count?  Say, we’re all for you, Bull an’ Nancy, an’ me, just the same as the rest of the folk of the forest.  Stop right here, man.  Take your place again, an’ we’ll fight Hellbeam as we’ve fought his Skandinavia.  Say, we’ll fight for you as we’ve never fought before.  We’ll fight him, and beat him, and keep you safe from that hell he’s got waitin’ for you.  Just say the word, and stop right here.  And I’ll swear before God—­”

Leslie Standing raised a protesting hand.  His eyes were unsmiling.

“It’s useless, old friend,” he said with irrevocable decision.  “You don’t know the thing you’re trying to pledge yourself to.  You think me a crazy man.  You think I’m just asking for the trouble Hellbeam figures to hand out to me.  I’m not.  I’ve got the full measure of the whole thing.  And I know the thing I’m doing doesn’t matter.  I’m not going to change the plan of life I’ve laid down.  I’ve learnt happiness in the forests.  The twilight of it all has been my salvation.  Time was when I had other desires, other delights.  They’ve long since passed.  Now there’s only one appeal to me in life.  It’s the boys, the scallawags, who haunt the forest like I do.  I love them.  And my life’s theirs as long as Hellbeam leaves it to me.  Get just that into your thick, old head, Bat, and for our last five minutes together we can talk of things more pleasant than Hellbeam.”

The missionary smiled down into the strong face of his companion.  And the lumberman realised the uselessness of further protest.  He yielded grudgingly.  He yielded because he knew and loved the man.  By a great effort he turned his mind from the dread haunting it.