Two Men and a Woman

Thompson drove his canoe around a jutting point and came upon a white
cruiser swinging at anchor in an eddy. Her lines were familiar though he
had not seen her in two years. In any case the name Alert in gold leaf
on her bows would have enlightened him. He was not particularly
surprised to find Tommy's motor boat there. He had half-expected to find
Tommy Ashe hereabouts.

A man's head rose above the after companion-hatch as the canoe glided
abreast.

"Is Mr. Ashe aboard?" Thompson asked.

The man shook his head.

"Went up to Carr's camp a while ago."

"When did you get in?" Thompson inquired further.

"Last night. Lost a day laying up at Blind Bay for a southeaster. Gee,
she did blow."

Thompson smiled and passed on. Blind Bay was only two miles from Cape
Coburn. Just a narrow neck of land had separated them that blustery
night. It was almost like a race. Tommy would not be pleased to see him
treading so close on his heels. Thompson felt that intuitively. All was
fair in love and war. Still, even in aërial warfare, ruthless and
desperate as it was, there were certain courtesies, a certain element
of punctilio. Thompson had an intuition that Ashe would not subscribe to
even that simple code. In fact he began to have a premonition of
impending conflict as he thrust stoutly on his paddle blade. Tommy had
changed. He was no longer the simple, straightforward soul with whom
Thompson had fought man-fashion on the bank of Lone Moose, and with whom
he had afterward achieved friendship on a long and bitter trail.