And
before he or Milton could separate the combatants, Harden had returned
the blow with interest, and with a muttered:
"Take that, you sore-headed dog, you!"
Forrester tried to twist away from Enoch, but could not do so. Harden
freed himself from Milton's grasp, but did not attempt to go on with
the fight.
"One or the other of you," said Milton briefly, "leaves the expedition
at the Ferry. I'll tell you later which it will be. I'm ashamed of
both of you."
"I'd like to know what's made a tin god of you, Jim Milton!" shouted
Forrester. "You don't own us, body and soul. I've been in the Survey
longer than you! I joined this expedition before you did. And I'll
leave it when I get ready!"
"You'll leave it at the Ferry, Forrester!" Milton's voice was quiet,
but his nostrils dilated.
"And I'm telling you, I'll leave it when I please, which will be at
Needles! If any one goes, it'll be that skunk of a Harden."
Harden laughed, turned on his heel and deliberately rolled himself in
his blankets. Forrester stood for a moment, muttering to himself, then
he took his blankets off to an obscure corner of the sand. And Enoch
forgot his diary and went to bed, to ponder until shortly sleep
overtook him, on the perversity of the male animal.
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