Part 7 (1/2)

”Philip Raine--Amerika!” she cried.

Then, pressing her hands to her own breast, she added eagerly:

”Celie Armin--Danmark!”

”Denmark!” exclaimed Philip. ”Is that it, little girl? You're from Denmark? Denmark!”

She nodded.

”Kobenhavn--Danmark!”

”Copenhagen, Denmark,” he translated for himself. ”Great Scott, Celie--we're TALKING! Celie Armin, from Copenhagen, Denmark! But how in Heaven's name did you get HERE?” He pointed to the floor under their feet and embraced the four walls of the cabin in a wide gesture of his arms. ”How did you get HERE?”

Her next words thrilled him.

”Kobenhavn--Muskvas--St. Petersburg--Rusland--Sibirien--Amerika.”

”Copenhagen--Muskvas, whatever that is--St.

Petersburg--Russia--Siberia--America,” he repeated, staring at her incredulously. ”Celie, if you love me, be reasonable! Do you expect me to believe that you came all the way from Denmark to this G.o.d-forsaken madman's cabin in the heart of the Canada Barrens by way of Russia and Siberia? YOU! I can't believe it. There's a mistake somewhere. Here--”

He thought of his pocket atlas, supplied by the department as a part of his service kit, and remembered that in the back of it was a small map of the world. In half a minute he had secured it and was holding the map under her eyes. Her little forefinger touched Copenhagen. Leaning over her shoulder, he felt her hair crumpling against his breast. He felt an insane desire to bury his face in it and hug her up close in his arms--for a single moment the question of whether she came from Copenhagen or the moon was irrelevant and of little consequence. He, at least, had found her. He was digging her out of chaos, and he was filled with the joyous exultation of a triumphant discoverer--almost the thrill of owners.h.i.+p. He held his breath as he watched the little forefinger telling him its story on the map.

From Copenhagen it went to Moscow--which must have been Muskvas, and from there it trailed slowly to St. Petersburg and thence straight across Russia and Siberia to Bering Sea.

”Skunnert,” she said softly, and her finger came across to the green patch on the map which was Alaska.

It hesitated there. Evidently it was a question in her own mind where she had gone after that. At least she could not tell him on the map.

And now, seeing that he was understanding her, she was becoming visibly excited. She pulled him to the window and pointed to the wolves.

Alaska--and after that dogs and sledge. He nodded. He was jubilant. She was Celie Armin, of Copenhagen, Denmark, and had come to Alaska by way of Russia and Siberia--and after that had traveled by dog-train. But WHY had she come, and what had happened to make her the companion or prisoner of Bram Johnson? He knew she was trying to tell him. With her back to the window she talked to him again, gesturing with her hands, and almost sobbing under the stress of the emotion that possessed her.

His elation turned swiftly to the old dread as he watched the change in her face. Apprehension--a grim certainty--gripped hold of him.

Something terrible had happened to her--a thing that had racked her soul and that filled her eyes with the blaze of a strange terror as she struggled to make him understand. And then she broke down, and with a sobbing cry covered her face with her hands.

Out in the corral Philip heard Bram Johnson's laugh. It was a mockery--a challenge. In an instant every drop of blood in his body answered it in a surge of blind rage. He sprang to the stove, s.n.a.t.c.hed up a length of firewood, and in another moment was at the door. As he opened it and ran out he heard Celie's wild appeal for him to stop. It was almost a scream. Before he had taken a dozen steps from the cabin he realized what the warning meant. The pack had seen him and from the end of the corral came rus.h.i.+ng at him in a thick ma.s.s.

This time Bram Johnson's voice did not stop them. He saw Philip, and from the doorway Celie looked upon the scene while the blood froze in her veins. She screamed--and in the same breath came the wolf-man's laugh. Philip heard both as he swung the stick of firewood over his head and sent it hurling toward the pack. The chance accuracy of the throw gave him an instant's time in which to turn and make a dash for the cabin. It was Celie who slammed the door shut as he sprang through.

Swift as a flash she shot the bolt, and there came the lunge of heavy bodies outside. They could hear the snapping of jaws and the snarling whine of the beasts. Philip had never seen a face whiter than the girl's had gone. She covered it with her hands, and he could see her trembling. A bit of a sob broke hysterically from her lips.

He knew of what she was thinking--the horrible thing she was hiding from her eyes. It was plain enough to him now. Twenty seconds more and they would have had him. And then--

He drew in a deep breath and gently uncovered her face. Her hands s.h.i.+vered in his. And then a great throb of joy repaid him for his venture into the jaws of death as he saw the way in which her beautiful eyes were looking at him.

”Celie--my little mystery girl--I've discovered something,” he cried huskily, holding her hands so tightly that it must have hurt her. ”I'm almost glad you can't understand me, for I wouldn't blame you for being afraid of a man who told you he loved you an hour or two after he first saw you. I love you. I've never wanted anything in all my life as I want you. And I must be careful and not let you know it, mustn't I? If I did you'd think I was some kind of an animal-brute--like Bram.

Wouldn't you?”

Bram's voice came in a sharp rattle of Eskimo outside. Philip could hear the snarling rebellion of the wolves as they slunk away from the cabin, and he drew Celie back from the door. Suddenly she freed her hands, ran to the door and slipped back the wooden bolt as the wolf-man's hand fumbled at the latch. In a moment she was back at his side. When Bram entered every muscle in Philip's body was prepared for action. He was amazed at the wolf-man's unconcern. He was mumbling and chuckling to himself, as if amused at what he had seen. Celie's little fingers dug into Philip's arm and he saw in her eyes a tense, staring look that had not been there before. It was as if in Bram's face and his queer mumbling she had recognized something which was not apparent to him. Suddenly she left him and hurried into her room. During the few moments she was gone Bram did not look once at Philip. His mumbling was incessant. Perhaps a minute pa.s.sed before the girl reappeared.

She went straight to Bram and before the wolf-man's eyes held a long, s.h.i.+ning tress of hair!