In that Edith Nelson undertook to cook for the outfit, a man's share was to be her portion.
Now that the mining had ceased, Edith Nelson turned over the fire-building and the dish-washing to the men, while she darned their socks and mended their clothes.
Hans Nelson was stolid and easy- going, while Edith had long before won his unbounded admiration by her capacity for getting on with people.
Edith, after a peep into the men's bunk- room, returned to the table.
He was thrusting the shells into the gun when Edith Nelson was aroused to action.
They were sledge-like blows, and when Edith felt Dennin's body relax she loosed her grip and rolled clear.
Edith stood in the middle of the floor, wringing her hands, panting and gasping, her whole body trembling violently.
Hans refused to go near Dennin, and Edith was forced to conduct this portion of the investigation by herself.
Edith demanded, having caught the rumble of inarticulate speech in her husband's throat.
Hans refused to touch Dennin, but Edith lashed him securely, hand and foot.
He watched Hans and Edith with glittering eyes, but made no attempt to speak.
At first, Edith tried eight-hour watches, but the continuous strain was too great, and afterwards she and Hans relieved each other every four hours.
Edith sent Hans to their cabins to get them to take Dennin down the coast in a canoe to the nearest white settlement or trading post, but the errand was fruitless.
So Edith Nelson went back to the terrible cabin with its endless alternating four-hour watches.
He became obsessed by the idea that it was his duty to kill Dennin; and whenever he waited upon the bound man or watched by him, Edith was troubled by the fear that Hans would add another red entry to the cabin's record.