As if suddenly desirous of serving Kenneth McKenzie the fire flared up and burned a broad patch across the river. Lander believed they would be discovered and crouched low to escape a bullet. But although the radius of the light zone rapidly increased it did not catch up with the receding boat; and then again the watchers were staring up-stream. The keelboat was again in darkness although the fire was visible—a red hole through a black blanket.
"We must do some poling," said Bridger. "Here's the Yallerstone."
"Where?" blankly asked Lander, unable to see anything once he removed his gaze from the fire.
"Can't you feel the current pushing us to the left? Work gently. Sound carries like sin on the water."
Lander worked with great caution, but with no intelligence. He did what his patron commanded, but he did it blindly. If not for occasional backward glances at the fire he would have believed the boat was going about in circles. Then something snatched the fire from sight, and Bridger was announcing:
"We've done it. We're in the Yallerstone now. Timber on this south bank hides the fire from
