He reached up over his barricade, and with his hunting-knife cut a slit in the wagon's canvas cover. The slit was just large enough to accommodate the muzzle of his rifle. But now Basil withdrew to his own camp, taking with him the halfbreed and the deserter. The latter went with him reluctantly enough, for he knew the fur trader was in no mood to tamper with. The five men about the wagons waited, never relaxing their vigilance. They expected something would be done or attempted, they scarcely knew what. They could hear nothing of what passed between Basil and his two companions, but they saw that he was talking earnestly with Raymond. Twice the deserter turned and looked toward them, finally he appeared to give a satisfactory answer to what Basil had been saying, and the conference came to an end; they heard the echo of his light laugh. He turned from Basil and the half-breed and approached Stephen, whom he seemed to regard with a quickened interest, but the friendly smile never left his selfish, good-natured face. “Well, good-bye,” he said, and extended his hand. “I reckon I'll have to go with him yonder.” “Are you willing to go with him?” Stephen asked. “Oh, yes,” smiling evasively. “Yes, I'm plenty willing to go with him,” he said. “Because if you have any fears for your safety—” “No, I'm worth a heap more to him alive than I would be dead,” responded the deserter with an air of complacent conviction. He added pleasantly. “I reckon, though, it's right handsome of you to want to look out for me, and me a stranger.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “He'll calm down some; give him time. I allow he feels Baptiste is looking to him to take on like hell, but once he cuts loose from you gentlemen you needn't bother about him; he'll be mainly interested in getting on to California. Now if you keep on about due west you'll strike Green River sometime to-morrow; after you ford it, your trail leads a little south of west to the Bear.” He looked hard at Stephen. “Thank you,” said the latter. “Beyond the Bear you shouldn't have any trouble. You'll strike the Weber next, and you can just follow it into the valley, crossing Kamas Prairie. I know all that country—and don't worry none about him, he ain't hunting trouble. Well, good-bye, and good luck.” He rejoined Basil and Baptiste. “Why did he tell us that?” asked Bushrod suspiciously. “Just his good-nature,” said Stephen indifferently, and thought no more of the deserter's advice until it became necessary to follow it. The three men mounted their horses, and the fur trader again approached his cousins. “Once more, will you give him up?” he asked. But no one answered him. “You won't give him up, eh? Well, look out,” and he shook his fist at them. “Look out, for I'll even this before I'm done with you.”