It was not like Oscar to say “I” when there were two to talk about. Hugh noted this with a sinking of the heart.
“Oscar,” he cried, turning back from the door, “am I not going, too?”
“I’m so sorry,” he said with evident understanding of Hugh’s disappointment, “but you see if Jake is really back we can’t risk leaving the cabin alone. The claim is nearly established now and the closer we come to the end, the closer we come to trouble. There is bound to be one more row before the thing finally goes through.”
Oscar looked down at his scarred hand and smiled reflectively.
“A row like the others we have had,” he said quietly, “only this time a really good one. Good-by.”
He took up his pack and went out without another word. The furious wind seemed to seize him and whirl him away the moment he stepped outside the door. Hugh had not answered his farewell, for he was disappointed and indignant at being left behind and he did not mind how plainly Oscar saw it. After all, it was he himself who had seen the footprints by the marsh; he ought to be the person to go and look for them again. He went out to feed Hulda, slamming the door smartly behind him and never looking at Oscar, who was still in sight, trudging along the open ridge above the valley. Hugh understood now why Oscar had asked so many questions about the region where the footprints had been seen, about how long the boy had walked before he came in sight of the cabin, about the contour of the land and the direction in which the shadows fell.
Hugh, as he moved sulkily toward the shed, began composing bitter speeches to be launched at Oscar when he should return. He stopped for a moment and looked across at Jasper Peak and the shack high up on its rocky shoulder. Yes, there was the plume of smoke again, torn and whirled about by the wind, but still sending up its ominous signal. He turned to open the shed door. He would tell Oscar plainly that—that—But, after all, why should Oscar have gone at all? It was a forlorn hope at the best for which he was risking everything, leaving in Hugh’s safe-keeping property that was infinitely valuable in the light of the purpose it was to serve. A sudden change of feeling overcame Hugh, filling him with shame for his blind ill-temper.