"What do you need a guide for? It's not a half-mile to those blinds. I've seen you every day go back and forth in plain view of the yacht. Nan could row out there and back by herself. Send him ashore. Don't you know how to put out your own decoys?" He spoke with the stubbornness of a spoiled child. "If a bad blow comes we'll need two strong men to handle the boat." "Rot!" Bivens cried. "We've got two tenders. Send your guide ashore with one of the sailors to run his engine. The other man can tow us out and back." Against his judgment he allowed Bivens to have his way. The little man clambered on deck and bustled about, giving orders to the sailor who was stowing the lunch and ammunition. When Stuart stopped the tender at the first blind, about five hundred yards away, Bivens protested. "Here, here! I'm no mollycoddle if I have been sick. I can throw a stone to this blind. This isn't the one I want. There it is down yonder toward the end of that marsh. I saw thousands of ducks circling around it yesterday." "But they'll come here to-day," Stuart urged. "The wind has shifted and they shift their course with the wind. This blind is all right." "I won't have it!" Bivens stormed. "Go to the other!" "This is all right to-day, I tell you," Stuart replied. Bivens's face flushed with rage. "Look here, Jim, I've given in to you every day we've been down here. I'm going to have my way this time." He turned to the sailor who was running the tender's engine and spoke sharply. "Go to that other blind!" The sailor sprang to the wheel and the tender shot ahead. Stuart settled back in his seat with angry disgust, and Bivens laughed. "Cheer up, it's no use to give orders for a funeral yet. If we can't get back to that yacht in fifteen minutes against any wind that blows to-day, I'll eat my hat. I'm feeling better than I have for months. I'm in for a good time. Don't be a piker." Stuart determined to make the best of it. "All right," he answered cheerfully. "I'll be responsible for any trouble that comes, so don't you worry." "You're not in New York now, Cal," Stuart said with a grunt. "You may own the earth, but the sea still has a way of its own." "Good Lord, man, I could walk back to the yacht at low water, it all goes bare." "Yes, unless the wind hauls in to the northeast and rolls in a big tide through that inlet." "All right, let her roll. The tender will come back and pull us in." By the time the decoys were out it began to spit snow, and the wind had freshened. As the sailor was about to start back, Stuart spoke sharply: "Listen to me now, Niels." The Norwegian tipped his cap and stood at attention. "Yes, sir!" "Keep a sharp watch on this weather. If you see the wind haul to the north, put a compass in your tender, take your bearing from the yacht to this blind, in case it should shut in thick, and come after us in double-quick time. You understand?" "Yes sir." "If it looks bad, don't wait too long."