But I must have proof! I must--I must!"
She was staring wildly at him, and all at once there leapt fiercely through
him a dawning of the truth. The name was there, seared by hot iron in that
slab of wood. The name! But under the cairn of stones----
Behind them MacDonald had heard. He towered beside them now. His great
mountain-twisted hands drew Joanne a step back, and strange gentleness was
in his voice as he said:
"You an' Johnny go back an' build a fire, Mis' Joanne. I'll find the
proof!"
"Come," said Aldous, and he held out his hand again.
MacDonald hurried on ahead of them. When they reached the camp he was gone,
so that Joanne did not see the pick and shovel which he carried back. She
went into the tent and Aldous began building a fire where MacDonald's had
been drowned out. There was little reason for a fire; but he built it, and
for fifteen minutes added pitch-heavy fagots of storm-killed jack-pine and
spruce to it, until the flames leapt a dozen feet into the air. Half a
dozen times he was impelled to return to the grave and assist MacDonald in
his gruesome task. But he knew that MacDonald had meant that he should stay
with Joanne.
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