might possibly be dishonoured at headquarters.”
“It’s you as is more likely ter be dishonoured,” said Douglas in sudden wrath.
Lou came to his feet with a face that brought three men between him and the other. Danny laughed, rocking on the bunk.
“Can’t yer stand chiackin’ yet, Lou? Wi’ all the efforts I’ve taken to substantiate yer in it, too! Ike, put some tea inter that billy, and guv me a drink, for I’m fair climaxed wi myself.”
But a half-hour later, when they got to saddle with wet oilskins abroad in the wind, Danny muttered to Mogger:
“Ted’ll pay for that. Pay through the nose, he will. Lou is darnation clever.”
Mogger glanced at a little cramped figure atop of a big bony roan. He hoped that Lou would hit there when the chance came. For—saving always Ted Douglas—no man on Mains had any love for Jimmie.
When man first put foot on her the Back-Country made some rules and she had kept them. They that serve her shall love her, for she will have no divided tribute. In their strong youth they must take her yoke gladly; nor may they bend under it nor break. And in return she gives them little rest and much danger, and—many times—death. She gives too the power to be steadfast against self—which
