Following man's first instinct, he bent double, and crept across the open sand to the dugout. It lay on its side, the bottom turned toward him.
His heart was beating like a steam hammer. If with one quick movement he could turn it over and rush it into the water, let her wake as quick as she chose. If she attempted to stop him she must take the consequences. When a man's liberty was at stake he could not be too nice with the sex. He took a long breath and turned the canoe over.
The keyed-up Sam grunted at the suddenness of the shock and ran back for ten paces, gasping. Then he got command of himself, and came back ashamed and raging.
Bela stood up. "What you want?" she asked mildly.
"I want to get away from here!" cried Sam, "and, by George, I'm going to! If you try to stop me your petticoats won't protect you. Get back!"
Rather to his surprise she fell back without a word. He glanced at her uncertainly. Putting his hands on the canoe he started to shove it toward the water.
"How you goin' mak' it go?" asked Bela softly.
Sam came to a stop, swearing savagely. In his excitement he had neglected to think of paddles. They were not lying anywhere about.
"Tell me where they are or take the consequences!" he cried, approaching her threateningly.
"I not tell you if you kill me," she replied, standing fast.
This was an out and out challenge to him to strike her. When it came to the point he could not do it, of course. He turned away, wild with impotent rage. Must she always get the best of him? If there had only been a man of her people there that he could take it out on! He broke into passionate denunciations of her. It was a weird enough scene, there on the shore in the dim dusk.
"What are you keeping me here for, anyway?" was the burden of his cry. "What do you expect to gain by it?"
"You safe here," Bela muttered. "If we go to the shore those men kill you, I think."
"I'll take my chance of that!" he cried. "I know how to deal with men. I don't need a woman to look after me! Do you think you're going to keep me here all summer?"
"No," she returned. "The bishop and the police comin' pretty soon. Then you safe."
"It's all your fault anyhow!" cried Sam. "Why couldn't you let me alone in the first place? What's your game anyhow?"