and was already straightened out on his long journey for the mouth of the Albany and home.
Meanwhile the Cree, who had glided forward cat-like, on moccasined feet, flattened himself against the rail when the first of the crew passed him, then, following the hurrying men, showed himself to a boatswain with a lantern, who led him aft to an officer vainly demanding the cause of the disturbance.
"I thought at first you had been foolish enough to try to swim ashore," said the young lieutenant. "I objected to putting you under guard, so I'm glad you're here."
"My husky chew de rope an' tak' to de water," vouchsafed the Cree.
"Your dog? Too bad! He'll never reach shore in this fog."
The severed rope at the ring-bolt told the story. It was evident that the husky had taken French leave as the German jokingly pointed out to the Cree. And Laroque now knew that no one had seen him steal out of the forecastle.
"I thought you said the dog wouldn't leave your fur-pack."
"Weel, I guess he hungree for rabbit-meat," replied Gaspard, lightly, but his sick heart was out there in the black night toward the Albany delta with his faithful friend battling his way blindly home.
It was all a matter of luck, Laroque told himself, as he lay in his bunk. He had waited until the tide was running hard before sending the dog off, and Loup was too clever to fight the current; he would
