"I think we'll let Dud go now," Elliot told his partner in the
adventure.
"Better hold him till afternoon. Then they can't possibly reach us till
we get to Kamatlah."
"What does it matter if they do? We have both rifles and have left them
only one revolver. Besides, I don't like to leave two bound men alone in
so wild a district for any great time. No, we'll start Dud on the back
trail. That grizzly you promised Big Bill might really turn up."
The two men struck the headwaters of Wild-Goose Creek about noon and
followed the stream down. They traveled steadily without haste. So long
as they kept a good lookout there was nothing to be feared from the men
they had left behind. They had both a long start and the advantage of
weapons.
If Elliot had advertised for a year he could not have found a man who
knew more of Colby Macdonald's past than Gideon Holt. The old man had
mushed on the trail with him in the Klondike days. He had worked a
claim on Frenchman Creek with him and had by sharp practice--so at
least he had come to believe--been lawed out of his rights by the shrewd
Scotchman. For seventeen years he had nursed a grudge against Macdonald,
and he was never tired of talking about him.
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