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<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> Marlin regained consciousness in the camp. He was stiff and weak and sick with the pain of his ankle. DuChane and the girl stood over him. "Sorry, old man," DuChane said regretfully. "You put up a good fight, but I had the advantage." Marlin made no reply. But in the days that followed, while slowly regaining his strength, he observed the pair. It was clear that he was definitely out of the picture. The girl, Norma, taciturn as ever, nevertheless followed DuChane with her eyes and seemed to dwell on his every word. Daily she accompanied him on the hunt, becoming as adept as a man with spear and club. Sometimes she returned early to prepare the evening meal. On one such occasion Marlin abruptly asked: "You like him? You're satisfied?" The girl, in her single brief garment of skins, dropped down beside him. She was tanned and strong-looking now, and a new radiance had replaced the old sullen look on her face. "You found me, didn't you?" she said slowly. "It was you who gave me back to life—and I've never thanked you." Marlin gingerly flexed his injured ankle. "Forget the thanks," he returned gruffly. "It seems funny," she went on, "to thank you for saving me. I used to reproach you for saving me the first time, and I tried to fling away the life you'd given back. But somehow, now, it's different. I want to live! I feel somehow that I've found the place where I belong—a world where living is real and glorious, as it should be." He looked at her thoughtfully. "I guess you're right. Everything's as it should be." As soon as he could walk with but a slight limp, he gathered up his spears and implements. "I've a notion there's better hunting farther south," he observed. DuChane avoided his eyes. Norma said nothing, but it was apparent that she wished to be alone with her man. "I'll drop around sometimes—keep in touch with you," Marlin assured them cheerfully. "So long." Thus casually, he set out alone in the wilderness. <hr class="tb" /> For weeks he hunted along the shore of the murky sea. One day he picked up a shaft in which was bound a spearhead unlike any that either he or DuChane had fashioned. It was a crudely hammered thing of metal—and the red stain with which it was encrusted revealed that the metal was iron. While he stood looking at it, a shrill vituperation startled his ears, and two figures came dashing over the ridge beyond. In the brief glimpse he had before the pursuer felled the one in advance, he was sure the victim was a woman. She had fallen beneath the blow, but in an instant was on her feet, screaming, struggling, and scratching. Before the fury of her attack, the man retreated, and finally broke away, waving his spear ominously when she threatened to follow up the advantage. Both became aware of Marlin at the same instant. He walked toward them slowly. "Sally!" he called out, and then, doubtfully: "Len McGruder?" Eyes riveted on Marlin's face, the girl approached, slowly, almost like one groping in the dark. She touched his cheeks diffidently with both hands. "You're Dave! Dave Marlin!" she gasped. McGruder eyed them with fierce resentment, then lunged forward and thrust Sally away. "Damned slut!" he growled. "Get back to your brats." She swung on him furiously. "Shut Up! I'll stay where I please." Marlin noticed with sickened comprehension that there was an ugly welt on her temple and many bruises showed on the exposed parts of her body. But then, there were scratches and welts on McGruder that might not have been due altogether to entanglement with brush. "You'll stay with us tonight," Sally informed Marlin. "You'll be surprised at what a good housekeeper I am." There was no second to the invitation from McGruder, but Marlin cheerfully accompanied them home. Their refuge, like that of Maw and Link, was a cave. In an improvised enclosure, two naked children rolled contentedly in the dirt—one about two, the other a babe in the crawling stage. Cute little brats, Marlin thought, and Sally appeared to be casually proud of them. There was no evidence that they had attempted to cultivate growing things, but they had a fire, and Marlin was interested in the forge McGruder grudgingly showed him. He had fashioned other things besides spearheads—crude knives and an attempt at an axe—but he jealously refused to divulge the location of his metal deposits. As a special treat, Sally cooked a delectable stew of meat and edible roots. During the evening, the pair staged a bitter quarrel over some trifle, in the course of which McGruder sent Sally reeling with a cuff on the side of the head and she came back tooth and nail to retaliate. Marlin refrained from taking a hand. The girl seemed able to take care of herself. <hr class="tb" /> When the embers of the fire burned low, Sally carried her offspring into the cave. McGruder, with a snarling remark that might have been taken for a goodnight followed her. Marlin made himself as comfortable as possible under a ledge some distance away. He wakened at the sound of crunching sand. In an instant, Sally was beside him, her arms circling his neck. She was sobbing. "Take me away, Dave!" she moaned. "I can't stand it. He beats me—he's a beast! It's been a living hell." He stroked her hair gently, reveling in the soft tangle. He did not blame her for wanting to leave a brute like McGruder. In point of fact, she was voicing a thought which he had been pondering as he fell asleep. Her lips sought his and clung, deliciously. "Your kids," he suggested presently. "You wouldn't want to leave them. How'll we manage—?" "I've thought it all out," she told him breathlessly. "In the morning you'll start down the coast. If he thinks you're out of the way, he'll go hunting as usual. Then you can come back and we'll slip away together." "Suppose he follows. With two children we can't travel very fast." "What if he does! You're strong, Dave—and unafraid. I've always admired you. He found me wandering around alone, frightened and starved, and we—well, there just wasn't anybody else. You know how it is." "Sure," he agreed. "I don't blame you, kid." Another clinging kiss, and she slipped away. Marlin lay contentedly thinking of the morrow. He'd found the companionship he craved, at last. Sally was an attractive kid. In this new world, for all its hardships, she had blossomed in a full-bosomed, satisfying way. Her kisses were pleasant to recall. Now he could establish a home and live the way a man was meant to live. That she was already encumbered with two children did not disturb him in the least. Hungering for companionship, he liked the idea of having others dependent upon him—others for whom he could work and hunt, and to whom he would mean something. True, they were another man's children. Presumably McGruder had some feeling for them; he couldn't be entirely lacking in human traits. Probably even cared for Sally in his way. But a scurvy brute who didn't know how to treat a woman deserved to have her run away with another man. Involuntarily, Marlin strove to put the thought in different words. The idea of running away was repellent. Why do it by stealth? He wasn't afraid of McGruder. Why not go up to him and say: "I'm making off with your wife and kids. What are you going to do about it?" That was better. McGruder would put up a howl. Marlin hoped he'd be man enough to fight. Somehow, you didn't feel quite so mean about taking a man's possessions if you proved you were entitled to them by right of superior prowess. But whether you took them by stealth or force, you'd have occasional moments of remorse. It wasn't as if— Impatiently, Marlin twisted to his other side and tried to sleep. Thinking about it didn't help. Perhaps Sally's idea was better, after all. It wasn't the fight he wanted to avoid—it was the accusation he'd feel in the other man's eyes. Even a rat like McGruder could have moral right on his side.... <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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