THE PEACE OF ROARING RIVER

[Illustration: "God bless you, Madge, " said the man. "I will come soon. "See page 306]

THE PEACE OF ROARING RIVER

BY

GEORGE VAN SCHAICK

AUTHOR OF

SWEET APPLE COVE, THE SON OF THE OTTER, A TOP-FLOOR IDOL, ETC. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

W. H. D. KOERNER

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1918

BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY

(INCORPORATED)

Second Printing

CONTENTS

 I. The Woman Scorned 13 II. What Happened to a Telegram 26 III. Out of a Wilderness 42 IV. To Roaring River 71 V. When Gunpowder Speaks 102 VI. Deeper in the Wilderness 124 VII. Carcajou Is Shocked 152 VIII. Doubts 165 IX. For the Good Name of Carcajou 189 X. Stefan Runs 211 XI. A Visit Cut Short 223 XII. Help Comes 237 XIII. A Widening Horizon 251 XIV. The Hoisting 279 XV. The Peace of Roaring River 290

ILLUSTRATIONS

 "God bless you, Madge, " said the man. "I will come soon. " See page 306 _Frontispiece_ Truth flashed upon her! In a few moments she would see for the first time the man she was to marry 98 "I'm glad you were not hurt. Rather unexpected, wasn't it" 122 He put out a brown hand and touched the girl's arm 270

THE PEACE OF ROARING RIVER

THE PEACE OF ROARING RIVER

CHAPTER I

The Woman Scorned

To the village of Carcajou came a young man in the spring. The lastpatches of snow were disappearing from under the protecting fronds oftrees bursting into new leaf. From the surface of the lakes the heavyice had melted and broken, and still lay in shattered piles on the leeshores. Black-headed chickadees, a robin or two, and finally swallowshad appeared, following the wedges of geese returning from the southon their way to the great weedy shoals of James' Bay. 

The young man had brought with him a couple of heavy packs and sometools, but this did not suffice. He entered McGurn's store, afterhesitating between the Hudson's Bay Post and the newer building. Anewcomer he was, and something of a tenderfoot, but he made nopretence of knowing it all. A gigantic Swede he addressed gave himvalued advice, and Sophy McGurn, daughter of the proprietor, joinedin, smilingly. 

She was a rather striking girl, of fiery locks and, it was commonlyreported, of no less flaming temper. To Hugo Ennis, however, sheshowed the most engaging traits she possessed. The youth wasgood-looking, well built, and his attire showed the merest trifle ofcare, such as the men of Carcajou were unused to bestow upon theirgarb. The bill finally made out by Sophia amounted to some seventydollars. 

"Come again, always glad to see you, " called the young lady as Hugomarched out, bearing a part of his purchases. 

For a month he disappeared in the wilderness and finally turned upagain, for a few more purchases. On the next day he left once morewith Stefan, the big Swede, and nothing of the two was seen againuntil August, when they returned very ragged, looking hungry, theirfaces burned to a dull brick color, their limbs lankier and, ifanything, stronger than ever. The two sat on the verandah of the storeand Hugo counted out money his companion had earned as guide andhelper. When they entered the store Miss Sophia smiled again, graciously, and nodded a head adorned with a bit of new ribbon. Therewere a few letters waiting for Hugo, which she handed out, as McGurn'sstore was also the local post-office. The young man chatted with herfor some time. It was pleasant to be among people again, to hear avoice that was not the gruff speech of Stefan, given out in a powerfulbass. 

"More as two months ve traipse all ofer, " volunteered the latter. "Ye-es, Miss Sophy, ma'am, ve vork youst like niggers. Und it's onlyven ve gets back real handy here, by de pig Falls, dat ve strikesometing vhat look mighty good. Hugo here he build a good log-shack. He got de claim all fix an' vork on it some to vintertime. Nex springhe say he get a gang going. Vants me for foreman, he do. "

This was pleasant news. Hugo would be a neighbor, for what are a dozenmiles or so in the wilderness? He would be coming back and forth forprovisions, for dynamite, for anything he needed. 

"We had a fine trip anyway, and saw a lot of country, " declared Hugo, cheerfully. 

"Ve get one big canoe upset in country close in by Gowganda, " saidStefan again. "Vidout him Hugo I youst git trowned. "

"That wasn't anything, " exclaimed Hugo, hastily. 

"It was one tamn pig ting for me, anyvays, " declared Stefan, roaringout with contented laughter. 

Miss Sophy was not greatly pleased when Hugo civilly declined aninvitation to have dinner with her ma and pa. The young man wasdisappointing. He spoke cheerfully and pleasantly but appeared to takescant notice of her new ribbon, to pay little heed to her grey-blueeyes. 

After this, once or twice a week, Hugo would come in again, forimportant or trifling purchases. It might be a hundred pounds of flouror merely a new pipe. He was the only man in Carcajou who took off hiscap to her when he entered the store, but when she would have had himlean over the counter and chat with her he seemed to be just aspleased to gossip with lumberjacks and mill-men, or even with Indianswho might come in for tobacco or tea and were reputed to have vastknowledge of the land to the North. Once he half promised to come to abarn-dance in which Scotty Humphrey would play the fiddle, and shewatched for him, eagerly, but he never turned up, explaining a fewdays later that his dog Maigan, an acquisition of a couple of monthsbefore, had gone lame and that it would have been a shame to leave thepoor old fellow alone. 

Sophy met him in the village street and he actually bowed to herwithout stopping, as if there might be more important business in theworld than gossiping with a girl. She began to feel, after a time, that she actually disliked him. The station agent, Kid Follansbee, admired her exceedingly, and had timidly ventured some words ofhopeful flirtation as a preliminary to more serious proposals. Two orthree other youths of Carcajou only needed the slightest sign ofencouragement, and there was a conductor of the passenger train whoused to blow kisses at her, once in a while, from the steps of thePullman. In spite of all this Sophy continued to smile and talksoftly, whenever he entered the store, and he would answer civilly andcheerfully, and ask the price of lard or enquire for the fish-hooksthat had been ordered from Ottawa. He would pat the head of the bigdog that was always at his heels, throw a coin on the counter, sliphis change in his pocket and go out again, as if time had mattered, when, as she knew perfectly well, he really hadn't much to do. Thepoor fellow, she decided, was really stupid, in spite of his goodlooks. 

The worst of it all was that some folks had taken notice of herefforts to attract Hugo's attention. The people of Carcajou weregood-natured but prone to guffaws. One or two asked her when thewedding would take place, and roared at her indignant denials. 

In the meanwhile Hugo was utterly ignorant of the feelings that hadarisen in Miss Sophy McGurn's bosom. He worked away at a great rockyledge, and loud explosions were not uncommon at the big falls ofRoaring River. Also he cut a huge pile of firewood against the comingof winter, and, from time to time, would take a rod and lure from theriver some of the fine red square-tailed trout that abounded in itswaters. A few books on mining and geology, and an occasional magazine, served his needs of mental recreation. A French Canadian familysettled about a mile north of his shack soon grew friendly with him. There were children he was welcomed by, and a batch of dogs that triedin vain to tear Maigan to pieces, until with club and fang they weretaught better manners. To the young man's peculiar disposition suchsurroundings were entirely satisfactory. There was a freedom in it, asense of personal endeavor, a hope of success, that tinted his worldin gladdening hues. 

When autumn came he shouldered his rifle and went out to the bigswampy stretches of the upper river, where big cow moose and theirungainly young, soon to be abandoned, wallowed in the oozy bottoms ofshallow ponds and lifted their heads from the water, chewing away atthe dripping roots of lily-pads. There were deer, also, and he caughtsight of one or two big bull-moose but forebore to shoot, for theantlers were still in velvet and there was not enough snow on theground to sledge the great carcasses home. He contented himself with acouple of bucks, which he carried home and divided with his fewneighbors, also bringing some of the meat to Stefan's wife atCarcajou. Later on he killed two of the big flathorns, hung the hugequarters to convenient trees and went back to Papineau's, theFrenchman's place, for the loan of his dog-team. 

After this came the winter with heavy falls of snow and cold that sentthe tinted alcohol in the thermometer at the station down very closeto the bulb. Carcajou and its inhabitants seemed to go to sleep. Thevillage street was generally deserted. Even the dogs stayed indoorsmost of the day, hugging the cast-iron stoves. At this time all theIndians were away at their winter hunting grounds, and many of thelumberjacks had gone further south where the weather did not preventhonest toil. The big sawmill was utterly silent and the river, wont torace madly beneath the railroad bridge, had become a jumbled mass ofice and rock. 

The only men who kept up steady work in and near Carcajou formed thesection gang on the railroad. One day, in the middle of winter, and inquickly gathering shadows, Pete Coogan, their foreman, was walking thetrack back towards the village and had reached the big cut whose otherend led to the bridge at Carcajou. The wind bit hard as it howledthrough the opening in the hill and the man walked wearily, pullingaway at a short and extinct pipe and thinking of little but thecomfort that would be his after he reached his little house and kickedoff his heavy Dutch stockings. A hot and hearty meal would be readyfor him, and after this he would light another pipe and listen to hiswife's account of the village doings. Since before daylight he hadbeen toiling hard with his men, in a place where tons of ice and snowhad thundered down a mountainside and covered the rails, four or fivefeet deep. The work had been hurried, breathless, anxious, but finallythey had been able to remove the warning signals after clearing thetrack in time to let the eastbound freight thunder by, with a lowingof cold, starved cattle tightly packed and a squealing of hogs by thelegion. A frost-encased man had waived a thickly-mittened hand at themfrom the top of a lumber car, and the day's work was over, all butclearing a great blocked culvert, lest an unexpected thaw or rainmight flood the right of way. To these men it was all in the day'swork and unconscious passengers snored away in their berths, unknowingof the heroic toil their safety required. 

So Pete walked slowly, his grizzled head bent against the blast as hestruggled between the metals, listening. At a sudden shrieking roar hemoved deliberately to one side, his back resting against a bank ofsnow left by the giant circular plough whose progress, on the previousday, had been that of a slow but irresistible avalanche. A crashingwhistle tore the air and the wind of the rushing train pulled at hisclothes and swirled sharp flakes into his eyes. Yet he dimly sawsomething white flutter down to his feet and he picked it up. Itchanced to be a paper tossed out by some careless hand, a ratherdisreputable sheet printed some thousand miles away, one of the thingsthat lie like scabs on the outer hide of civilization. It was much toodark and cold for him to think of removing a mitten and searching forthe glasses in his coat pocket. But the respect is great, in wasteplaces, for the printed word. There news of the great outside worldtrickles in slowly, and he carefully stuffed the thing between two ofthe big horn buttons of his red-striped mackinaw. 

There were but a few minutes more of toil for him. At last he passedover the bridge, in a flurry of swirling ice-crystals, and finallymade his way into McGurn's store, which is across the way from therailway depot. 

"Cold night, " he announced, stamping his feet near the door. 

"Follansbee he says they report fifty below at White River, " a mansitting by the stove informed him. 

Coogan nodded and approached the counter. 

"Give me a plug, Miss Sophy, " he told the girl who sat at a roughcounter, adding figures. "The wind's gettin' real sharp and I got thenose most friz off'n my face. "

The girl rose, with a yawn, and handed him the tobacco. She swept histen-cent piece in a drawer and sat down again. One of the men loungingabout the great white-topped stove in the middle of the room pointedto Coogan's coat. 

"Ye're that careless, Pete, " he said. "I 'low that's a bundle o'thousand dollar bills as is droppin' off'n yer coat. "

The old section foreman looked down. 

"Oh! I'd most forgot. This here's some kind o' paper I picked up onthe track. Beats anything how passengers chucks things off. Mike Smith'most got killed last week with an empty bottle. Lucky he had his bigmuskrat cap on. May be ye'd like to see it, Miss Sophy? Guess my oldwoman wouldn't have no use for it as it don't seem to have any pictersin it. "

He was about to place it on the counter when one of the men took itfrom his hand and held it under the hanging oil lamp. 

"Why!" he chuckled, somewhat raspingly. "It's just what Sophy needsreal bad. Ye wants ter study that real careful, Sophy. It'll show yeas there's just as good fish in the sea as was ever took out of it. "

The girl leaned far out over the counter and snatched the paper awayfrom him. 

"Yes, there's just as good fish as that there Ennis lad, " repeated theman. 

A single glance had acquainted Sophy with the title. It was the_Matrimonial Journal_. She flung it down to her feet, angrily. 

"You get out of here with your Ennis!" she cried. "I wouldn't--wouldn'tmarry him if he was the last man on earth. I--I just despise him!"

"And that's real lucky for ye, " snickered the man. "I heard himsay--lemme see--yes, 'bout three-four days ago, as he wasn't nowisepartial ter carrots. It's a wegetable as he couldn't never bear thesight of. "

The girl's hand went up to her fine head of auburn hair and a deep redrose from her cheeks to its roots. Her narrow lips became a mere slitin her face and her steely eyes flashed. 

"And--and he's the kind as thinks himself a gentleman!" she hissedout. "Get out o' here, all of ye! There ain't a man in Carcajou as I'dwipe my boots on. Clear out o' here, I tell ye!"

The three men left, Pete silently and disapprovingly, the other twoguffawing. 

"I don't believe as how that lad Ennis ever said anything o' thekind, " declared the foreman. "He's a fine bye, he is, and it ain'tlike him. "

"Of course he didn't, " the village joker assured him. "But 'twas toomuch of a chance ter get a rise out er Sophy for me to lose it. Ain'tshe the hot-tempered thing? Just the same she wuz dead sot on gettin'him, we all know that, an' she's mad clear through. "

"Well, I don't see as yer got any call ter rile the gal, just thesame, " ventured Pete. "Like enough she can't help herself, she can't, and just because she got a temper like a sorrel mare ain't no goodreason ter be hurtin' her feelin's. "

But the other two chuckled again and started towards the bigboarding-house, whose ceilings and walls were beautifully covered withstamped metal plates guaranteed to last for ever and sell for old ironafterwards. Its corrugated iron roof, to most of Carcajou'spopulation, represented the very last word in architectural glory. 

Within the store Miss Sophy was biting her nails, excitedly, and feltall the fury of the woman scorned. 

CHAPTER II

What Happened to a Telegram

Customers were rare on such terribly cold nights. For a long timeSophy McGurn held her chin in the palm of her hand, staring about herfrom time to time, without seeing anything but the visions her angerevolved. Presently, however, she took up the small bag of mail andsorted out a few letters and papers, placing them in the individualboxes. But while she worked the heightened color of her face remainedand her teeth often closed upon her lower lip. There was a postal cardaddressed to Hugo Ennis. She turned it over, curiously, but it provedto be an advertisement of some sort of machinery and she threw it fromher, impatiently. 

"Supper's ready, Sophy, " cried a shrill voice. "Train's in andfather'll be here in a minute. Get the table fixed. "

"I'm coming, " she answered. 

For a minute she busied herself putting down plates and knives andforks. She heard her father coming in. He had been away on somebusiness at the next station. She heard him kicking off his heavy feltshoes and he came into the room in his stocking-feet. 

"Hello, Ma! Hello, Sophy! Guess ye've been settin' too close to thehot stove, ain't ye? Yer face is red as a beet. "

"My face is all right!" she exclaimed, angrily. "Them as don't like itcan look the other way!"

Her mother, a quiet old soul, looked at her in silence and dished outthe broiled ham and potatoes. The old gentleman snickered but foreboreto add more fuel to the fire. He was a prudent man with a keenappreciation of peace. They sat down. Under a chair the old cat wasplaying with her lone kitten, sole remnant of a large litter. Anaggressive clock with a boldly painted frame was beating loudly. Beneath the floor the oft-repeated gnawing of a mouse or rat went on, distractingly. From the other side of the road, in spite ofdouble-windows and closed doors, came the wail of an ill-treatedviolin. 

"One of these days I'm goin' over to Carreau's an' smash that fiddle, "suddenly asserted Sophy, truculently. "It's gettin' on my nerves. Talko' cats screechin'!"

"I wouldn't do that, Sophy, " advised her mother, patiently. "Not butwhat it's mighty tryin', sometimes, for Cyrille he don't ever getfurther'n them two first bars of 'The Campbells are comin'. '"

Sophy sniffed and poured herself out strong tea. She drank two cups ofit but her appetite was evidently poor, for she hardly touched herfood. Her father was engaged in a long explanation of the misdeeds ofa man who had sold him inferior pork, as she folded her napkin, slipped it into her ring, and went back into the store. Here she saton her stool again, tapping the counter with closed knuckles. Her eyeschanced to fall upon the paper she had thrown down on the floor, andshe picked it up and began to read. Pete Coogan, when he had broughtit into the store, unknowingly had set big things in motion. He wouldhave been amazed at the consequences of his act. 

Presently Sophy became deeply interested. The pages she turnedrevealed marvelous things. Even to one of her limited attainments inthe way of education and knowledge of the world the artificiality ofmany of the advertisements was apparent. Others made her wonder. Itwas marvelous that there were so many gentlemen of good breeding andfine prospects looking hungrily for soul-mates, and such a host ofwomen, young or, in a few instances, confessing to the early thirties, seeking for the man of their dreams, for the companion who wouldunderstand them, for the being who would bring poetry into theirlives. Some, it is true, hinted at far more substantial requirements. But these, in the brief space of a few lines, were but hazilyrevealed. Among the men were lawyers needing but slight help to allowthem to reach wondrous heights of forensic prosperity. There weremerchants utterly bound to princely achievement. Also there was asprinkling of foreign gentlemen suggesting that they might exchangetitles of high nobility for some little superfluity of wealth. Goodlooks were not so essential as a kindly, liberal disposition, theyasserted, and also hinted that youth in their brides was lessimportant than the quality of bank accounts. The ladies, as describedby themselves, were tall and handsome, or small and vivacious. Someesteemed themselves willowy while others acknowledged Junoesque forms. But all of them, of either sex, high or short, thin or stout, appearedto think only of bestowing undying love and affection for the pureglory of giving, for the highest of altruistic motives. Other and moretrivial things were spoken of, as a rule, in a second short paragraphwhich, to the initiated, would have seemed rather more important thanthe longer announcements. At any rate, that which they asked inexchange for the gifts they were prepared to lavish always appeared tobe quite trivial, at first sight. 

Sophy McGurn, as she kept on reading, was not a little impressed. Yet, gradually, a certain native shrewdness in her nature began to assertitself. She had helped her father in the store for several years andknew that gaudy labels might cover inferior goods. She by no meansbelieved all the things she read. At times she even detectedexaggeration, lack of candor, motives less allowable than the ones soreadily advanced. 

"Guess most of them are fakes, " she finally decided, not unwisely. "But there's some of them must get terribly fooled. I--I wonder. .. . "

Her cogitations were interrupted by a small boy who entered and askedfor a stamped envelope. A few people, later on, came in to find out ifthere was any mail for them. But during the intervals she kept onporing over those pages. One by one the lights of Carcajou were goingout. Carreau's fiddle had stopped whining long before. The cat layasleep in the wood-box, near the stove, with the kitten nestledagainst her. Old McGurn called down to her that it was time for bed, but the girl made no answer. 

Yes, it was a marvelous idea that had come to her. She saw a dimprospect of revenge. It was as if the frosted windows had graduallycleared and let in the light of the stars. Hugo Ennis had made alaughing-stock of her. He didn't like carrots, forsooth! She was onlytoo conscious of the failure of her efforts to attract him. But he hadnoticed them and commented on them to others, evidently. It was enoughto make one wild!

The oil in the swinging lamp had grown very low and the light dim bythe time she finished a letter, in which she enclosed some money. Thenshe stamped it and placed it in the bag that would be taken up in themorning, for the eastbound express. Finally she placed the heavy ironbar against the front door and went up the creaking stairs to her roomas the loud-ticking clock boomed out eleven strokes, an unearthly hourfor Carcajou. 

A couple of weeks later a copy of the _Matrimonial Journal_ wasforwarded to A. B. C. , P. O. Box 17, Carcajou, Ontario, Canada. MissSophy McGurn retired with it to her room, looked nervously out of thewindow, lest any one might have observed her, and searched the pagesfeverishly. Yes! There it was! Her own words appeared in print!

 A wealthy young man owning a silver mine in Canada would like to correspond with a young lady who would appreciate a fine home beside a beautiful river. In exchange for all that he can bestow upon her he only seeks in the woman he will marry an affectionate and kindly disposition suited to his own. Write A. B. C. , P. O. Box 17, Carcajou, Ontario, Can. 

During the next few days it was with unwonted eagerness that Sophyopened the mail bags. Finally there came a letter, followed by five, all in different handwritings and in the same mail. For another weekor ten days others dribbled in. They were all from different women, cautiously worded, asking all manner of questions, venturing upondescriptions of themselves. Unanimously they proclaimed themselvesbubbling over with affection and kindliness. The girl was impressedwith the wretched spelling of most of them, with the evident tone ofartificiality, with the patent fact that the writers were looking fora bargain. All these letters, even the most poorly written, gave Sophythe impression that the correspondents were dangerous people, she knewnot why, and might perhaps hoist her with her own petard. She studiedthem over and over again, with a feeling of disappointment, andreluctantly decided that the game was an unsafe one. 

Two days had gone by without a letter to A. B. C. When at last oneturned up. At once it seemed utterly different, giving an impressionof bashfulness and timidity that contrasted with the boldness or thecaution of the others. That night, with a hand disguised as bestshe could, the girl answered it. She knew that several days mustelapse before she could obtain a reply and awaited it impatiently. It was this, in all probabilities, that made her speak snappishly topeople who came to trade in the store or avail themselves of thepost-office. 

"I'm a fool, " she told herself a score of times. "They all want themoney to come here and it must be enough for the return journey. Thislast one ain't thought of it, but she'll ask also, in her next letter, I bet. And I haven't got it to send; and if I had it I wouldn't do so. They might pocket it and never turn up. And anyway I might be gettingin trouble with the postal authorities. Guess I better not answer whenit comes. I'll have to find some other way of getting square withhim. "

By this time she regretted the dollars spent from her scant hoard forthe advertisement, but the reply came and the game became apassionately interesting one. She answered the letter again, using awealth of imagination. 

"She'll sure answer this one, but then I'll say I've changed my mindand have decided that I ain't going to marry. Takes me really for aman, she does. Must be a fool, she must. And she ain't asked formoney, ain't that funny? If she writes back she'll abuse me like apickpocket, anyway. Won't he be mad when he gets the letter!"

Sophy's general knowledge of postal matters and of some of the morefamiliar rules of law warned her that she was skating on thin ice. Yether last letter had ventured rather far. In her first letter she hadmerely signed with the initials, but this time she had boldly usedHugo Ennis's name. She thought she would escape all danger of havingcommitted a forgery by simply printing the letters. 

"And besides, there ain't any one can tell I ever wrote thoseletters, " she reassured herself, perhaps mistakenly. "If there's everany enquiry I'll stick to it that some one just dropped them in themail-box and I forwarded them as usual. When it comes to her answersthey'll all be in Box 17, unopened, and I can say I held them tillcalled for, according to rules. I never referred to them in what Iwrote. Just told her to come along and promised her all sorts ofthings. "

Again she waited impatiently for an answer, which never came. Insteadof it there was a telegram addressed to Hugo Ennis, which was ofcourse received by Follansbee, the station agent, who read it witheyes rather widely opened. He transcribed the message and entrusted itto big Stefan, the Swede, who now carried mail to a few outlyingcamps. 

"It's a queer thing, Stefan, " commented Joe. "Looks like there's somewoman comin' all the way from New York to see yer friend Hugo. "

"Vell, dat's yoost his own pusiness, I tank, " answered the Swede, placidly. 

"Sure enough, but it's queer, anyways. Did he ever speak of havin'some gal back east?"

"If he had it vould still be his own pusiness, " asserted Stefan, biting off a chew from a black plug and stowing away the telegram in acoat pocket. Hugo Ennis was his friend. Anything that Hugo did was allright. Folks who had anything to criticize in his conduct were likelyto incur Stefan's displeasure. 

The big fellow's dog-team was ready. At his word they broke therunners out of the snow, barking excitedly, but for the time beingthey were only driven across the way to the post-office for themail-bag. 

Sophy handed the pouch to him, her face none too agreeable. 

"Dat all vhat dere is for Toumichouan?" asked the man. 

"Yes, that's all, " answered the girl, snappily. "There's a parcel herefor Papineau and a letter for Tom Carew's wife. If you see any onegoing by way of Roaring River tell him to stop there and let 'emknow. "

"You can gif 'em to me, too, " said Big Stefan. "I'm goin' dat vay. Igot one of dem telegraft tings for Hugo Ennis. "

Sophy rushed out from behind the counter. 

"Let me see it!" she said. 

"No, ma'am, " said Stefan, calmly. "It is shut anyvays, de paper is. Follansbee he youst gif it to me. I tank nobotty open dat telegraftnow till Hugo he get it. "

He tucked the mail-bag and the parcel under one arm and went out, placing the former in a box that was lashed to the toboggan. Then heclicked at his dogs, who began to trot off easily towards the rise ofground at the side of the big lake. It was a sheet of streaky white, smooth or hummocky according to varying effects of wind and fallinglevels. Far out on its surface he saw two black dots that were a pairof ravens, walking in dignified fashion and pecking at someindistinguishable treasure trove. At the summit of the rise he clickedagain and the dogs went on faster, the man running behind with thetireless, flat-footed gait of the trained traveler of the wilderness. 

In the meanwhile old McGurn was busy in the store and Sophy put on herwoollen _tuque_ and her mitts. 

"I'm going over to the depot and see about that box of Dutch socks, "she announced. 

"'T ain't due yet, " observed her father. 

"I'm going to see, anyway, " she answered. 

In the station she found Joe Follansbee in his little office. Thetelegraphic sounder was clicking away, with queer sudden interruptions, in the manner that is so mysterious to the uninitiated. 

"Are you busy, Joe?" she asked him, graciously. 

"Sure thing!" answered the young fellow, grinning pleasantly. "There'sthe usual stuff. The 4. 19 is two hours late, and I've had one wholeprivate message. Gettin' to be a busy place, Carcajou is. "

"Who's getting messages? Old man Symonds at the mill?"

"Ye'll have to guess again. It's a wire all the way from New York. "

"What was it about, Joe?" she asked, in her very sweetest manner. 

Indeed, the inflection of her voice held something in it that wasnearly caressing. Kid Follansbee had long admired her, but of late hehad been quite hopeless. He had observed the favor in which Ennis hadseemed to stand before the girl, and had perhaps been rather jealous. It was pleasant to be spoken to so agreeably now. 

"We ain't supposed to tell, " he informed her, apologetically. "It'sagainst the rules. Private messages ain't supposed to be told toanyone. "

"But you'll tell me, Joe, won't you?" she asked again, smiling athim. 

It was a chance to get even with the man he deemed his rival and hecouldn't very well throw it away. 

"Well, I will if ye'll promise not to repeat it, " he said, after amoment's hesitation. "It's some woman by the name of Madge who's wiredto Ennis she's coming. "

"But when's she due, Joe?"

"It just says 'Leaving New York this evening. Please have some one tomeet me. Madge Nelson. '"

"For--for the land's sakes!"

She turned, having suddenly become quite oblivious of Joe, who wasstaring at her, and walked back slowly over the hard-packed snow thatcrackled under her feet in the intense cold. 

"I--I don't care, " she told herself, doggedly. "I--I guess she'll justtear his eyes out when she finds out she's been fooled. She'll betellin' everybody and--and they'll believe her, of course, and--andlike enough they'll laugh at him, now, instead of me. "

During this time Stefan rode his light toboggan when the snow was nottoo hummocky, or when the grade favored his bushy-tailed andlong-nosed team. At other times he broke trail for them or, when theold tote-road allowed, ran alongside. With all his fast traveling ittook him nearly three hours to reach the shack that stood on the bank, just a little way below the great falls of Roaring River. Here heabandoned the old road that was so seldom traveled since lumberingoperations had been stopped in that district, owing to the removal ofavailable pine and spruce. At a word from him the dogs sat down intheir traces, their wiry coats giving out a thin vapor, and he wentdown the path to the log building. The door was closed and he hadalready noted that no film of smoke came from the stove-pipe. While itwas evident that Ennis was not at home Stefan knocked before pushinghis way in. The place was deserted, as he had conjectured. Drawing offhis mitt he ascertained that the ashes in the stove were still warm. There was a rough table of axe-hewn boards and he placed the envelopeon it, after which he kindled a bit of fire and made himself a cup ofhot tea that comforted him greatly. After this it took but a minute tobind on his heavy snowshoes again and he rejoined his waiting dogs, starting off once more in the hard frost, his breath steaming and oncemore gathering icicles upon his short and stubby yellow moustache. 

It was only in the dusk of the short winter's day that Hugo Ennisreturned to his home, carrying his gun, with Maigan scampering beforehim. It was quite dark within the shack and he placed the bag that hadbeen on his shoulders upon the table of rough planks. After this hedrew off his mitts and unfastened his snowshoes after striking a lightand kindling the oil lamp. Then he pulled a couple of partridges and acold-stiffened hare out of the bag, which he then threw carelessly ina corner. Whether owing to the dampness of melting snow or thestickiness of fir-balsam on the bottom of the bag, the envelope Stefanhad left for him stuck to it and he never saw the telegram that hadbeen sent from the far-away city. 

CHAPTER III

Out of a Wilderness

A couple of days before Sophy's advertisement appeared in the_Matrimonial Journal_ a girl rose from her bed in one of the femalewards of the great hospital on the banks of the East River, in NewYork. On the day before the visiting physician had stated that shemight be discharged. She was not very strong yet but the hospitalneeded every bed badly. Pneumonia and other diseases were rife thatwinter. 

A kindly nurse carried her little bag for her down the aisle of theward and along the wide corridor till they reached the elevator. MadgeNelson was not yet very steady on her feet; once or twice she stoppedfor a moment, leaning against the walls owing to slight attacks ofdizziness. The car shot down to their floor and the girl entered it. 

"Good-by and good luck, my dear, " said the kindly nurse. "Take goodcare of yourself!"

Then she hurried back to the ward, where another suffering woman wasbeing laid on the bed just vacated. 

Madge found herself on the street, carrying the little bag which, inspite of its light weight, was a heavy burden for her. The air wascold and a slight drizzle had followed the snow. The chilly dampnessmade her teeth chatter. Twice she had to hold on to the iron railsoutside the gates of the hospital, for a moment's rest. After this shemade a brave effort and, hurrying as best she could, reached ThirdAvenue and waited for a car. There was room in it, fortunately, andshe did not have to stand up. Further down town she got out, walkedhalf a block west, and stopped before a tenement-house, opening thedoor. The three flights up proved a long journey. She collapsed on akitchen chair as soon as she entered. A woman who had been in thefront room hastened to her. 

"So you're all right again, " she exclaimed. "Last week the doctor said't was nip and tuck with you. You didn't know me when I stood beforeye. My! But you don't look very chipper yet! I'll make ye a cup of hottea. "

Madge accepted the refreshment gratefully. It was rather bitter andblack but at least it was hot and comforting. Then she went and soughtthe little bed in the dim hall-room, whose frosted panes let in ayellow and scanty light. For this she had been paying a dollar and ahalf a week, and owed for the three she had spent in the hospital. Fortunately, she still had eleven dollars between herself andstarvation. After paying out four-fifty the remainder might sufficeuntil she found more work. 

She was weary beyond endurance and yet sleep would not come to her, ashappens often to the overtired. Before her closed eyes a vaguepanorama of past events unrolled itself, a dismal vision indeed. 

There was the coming to the great city, after the widowed mother'sdeath, from a village up the state. The small hoard of money shebrought with her melted away rather fast, in spite of the mosteconomical living. But at last she had obtained work in a factorywhere they made paper boxes and paid a salary nearly, but not quite, adequate to keep body and soul together. From this she had drifted toa place where they made shirts. Here some hundreds of motor-drivensewing-machines were running and as many girls bent over the work, feverishly seeking to exceed the day's stint and make a few centsextra. A strike in this place sent her to another, with differentwork, which kept her busy till the hands were laid off for part of thesummer. 

And always, in every place, she toiled doggedly, determinedly, and herpretty face would attract the attention of foremen or even of bosses. Chances came for improvement in her situation, but the propositionswere nearly always accompanied by smirks and smiles, by hints never sowell covered but that they caused her heart to beat in indignation andresentment. Sometimes, of course, they merely aroused vaguesuspicions. Two or three times she accepted such offers. The resultalways followed that she left the place, hurriedly, and soughtelsewhere, trudging through long streets of mercantile establishmentsand factories, looking at signs displayed on bits of swingingcardboard or pasted to dingy panes. 

Throughout this experience, however, she managed to escape absolutewant. She discovered the many mysteries which, once revealed, permitof continued existence of a sort. The washing in a small room, thathad to be done on a Sunday; the making of small and unnutritiousdishes on a tiny alcohol stove; the reliance on suspicious eggs andmilk turned blue; the purchase of things from push-carts. She enviedthe girls who knew stenography and typewriting, and those who weredressmakers and fitters and milliners, all of which trades necessitatelong apprenticeship. The quiet life at home had not prepared her toearn her own living. It was only after the mother's death that anexpired annuity and a mortgage that could not be satisfied had senther away from her home, to become lost among the toilers of a bigcity. 

For a year she had worked, and her clothing was mended to the verge ofimpending ruin, and her boots leaked, and she had grown thin, but lifestill held out hope of a sort, a vague promise of better things, someday, at some dim period that would be reached later, ever so muchlater, perhaps. For she had still her youth, her courage, herindomitable tendency towards the things that were decent and honestand fair. 

At last she got a better position as saleswoman in one of the bigstores, whereupon her sky became bluer and the world took on rosiertints. She was actually able to save a little money, cent by cent anddime by dime, and her cheerfulness and courage increased apace. 

It was at this time that typhoid struck her down and the big hospitalsaw her for the first time. For seven long weeks she remained there, and when finally she was able to return to the great emporium shefound that help was being laid off, owing to small trade after theholidays. She sought further but the same conditions prevailed and shewas thankful to find harder and more scantily paid work in anotherfactory, in which she packed unending cases with canned goods thatcame in a steady flow, over long leather belts. 

So she became thinner again, and wearier, but held on, knowing thatthe big stores would soon seek additional help. The winter had comeagain, and with it a bad cough which, perforce, she neglected. One dayshe could not rise from her bed and the woman who rented a room to hercalled in the nearest doctor who, after a look at the patient and aswift, understanding gaze at the surroundings, ordered immediateremoval to the hospital. 

So now she was out of the precincts of suffering again, but the worldhad become a very hard place, an evil thing that grasped bodies andsouls and churned them into a struggling, crying, weeping mass forwhich nothing but despair loomed ahead. She would try again, however. She would finish wearing out the soles of her poor little boots in afurther hunt for work. At last sleep came to her, and the next morningshe awoke feeling hungry, and perhaps a bit stronger. Some sort ofsunlight was making its way through the murky air. She breakfasted ona half-bottle of milk and a couple of rolls and went out again, hollow-eyed, weary looking, to look for more work. 

For the best part of three days she staggered about the streets of thebig city, answering advertisements found in a penny paper, looking upthe signs calling for help, that were liberally enough displayed inthe manufacturing district. 

Then, one afternoon, she sank down upon a bench in one of the smallerparks, utterly weary and exhausted. Beside her, on the seat, lay apaper which she picked up, hoping to find more calls for willingworkers. But despair was clutching at her heart. In most of the placesthey had looked at her and shaken their heads. No! They had just foundthe help they wanted. The reason of her disappointments, she realized, lay in the fact that she looked so ill and weary. They did not deemher capable of doing the needed work, in spite of her assurances. 

So she held up the paper and turned over one or two pages, seeking thetitle. It was the _Matrimonial Journal_! It seemed like a scurrilousjoke on the part of fate. What had she to do with matrimony; withhopes for a happy, contented home and surcease of the never-endingsearch for the pittance that might keep her alive? She hardly knew whyshe folded it and ran the end into the poor little worn plush muff shecarried. When she reached her room again she lighted the lamp andlooked it over. It was merely something with which to pass a fewminutes of the long hours. She read some of those advertisements andthe keen instinct that had become hers in little less than two yearsof hard city life made her feel the lack of genuineness and honestypervading those proposals and requests. When she chanced to look atthat far demand from Canada, however, she put the paper down and beganto dream. 

Her earlier and blessed years had been spent in a small place. Hermemory went back to wide pastures and lowing cattle, to gorgeouslyblossoming orchards whose trees bent under their loads of savoryfruit, long after the petals had fallen. She felt as if she couldagain breathe unpolluted air, drink from clear springs and sit by theedges of fields and watch the waves of grain bending with flashes ofgold before the breezes. Time and again she had longed for thesethings; the mere thought of them brought a hunger to her for the opencountry, for the glory of distant sunsets, for the sounds of farm andbyre, for the silently flowing little river, bordered with woodlandsthat became of gold and crimson in the autumn. She could again see thenesting swallows, the robins hopping over grasslands, the wild dovespairing in the poplars, the chirping chickadees whose tiny heads shonelike black diamonds, as they flitted in the bushes. The memory of itall brought tears to her eyes. 

What a wonderful outlook this thing presented, as she read it again. Ahome by a beautiful river! A prosperous youth who needed butkindliness and affection to make him happy! Why had he not found asuitable mate in that country? She remembered hearing, or readingsomewhere, that women are comparatively few in the lands to which menrush to settle in wildernesses. And perhaps the women he had met werenot of the education or training he had been accustomed to. 

The idea of love, as it had been presented by the men she had beenthrown with, in factory and office, was repugnant to her. But, if thiswas true, the outlook was a different one. Not for a moment did sheimagine that it was a place wherein a woman might live in idleness andcomparative luxury. No! Such a man would require a helpmeet, one whowould do the work of his house, one who would take care of the homewhile he toiled outside. What a happy life! What a wondrous changefrom all that she had experienced! There were happy women in theworld, glorying in maternity, watching eagerly for the home-coming oftheir mates, blessed with the love of a good man and happy to returnit in full measure. It seemed too good to be true. She stared withmoistened eyes. If this was really so the man had doubtless alreadyreceived answers and chosen. There must be so many others looking likeherself for a haven of safety, for deliverance from lives that wereunendurable. Who was she that she should aspire to this thing? To sucha man she could bring but health impaired, but the remnants of herformer strength. In a bit of looking-glass she saw her dark-rimmedeyes and deemed that she had lost all such looks as she had oncepossessed. 

Yet something kept urging her. It was some sort of a fraud, doubtless. The man was probably not in earnest. A letter from her would obtain noattention from him. A minute later she was seated at the table, inspite of all these misgivings, and writing to this man she had neverseen or heard of. She stated candidly that life had been too hard forher and that she would do her best to be a faithful and willing helperto a man who would treat her kindly. It was a poor little despairingletter whose words sounded like a call for rescue from the deep. Aftershe had finished it she threw it aside, deciding that it was uselessto send it. An hour later she rushed out of the house, procured astamp at the nearest drug-store, and threw the letter in a box at thestreet-corner. As soon as it was beyond her reach she would have givenanything to recall it. Her pale face had become flushed with shame. Apostman came up just then, who took out a key fastened to a brasschain. She asked him to give her back her letter. But he swept up allthe missives and locked the box again, shaking his head. 

"Nothing doing, miss, " he told her, gruffly. 

Before her look of disappointment he halted a few seconds to explainsome measure, full of red-tape, by which she might perhaps obtain theletter again from the post-office. To Madge it seemed quite beyond thepowers of man to accomplish such a thing. And, moreover, the die wascast. The thing might as well go. She would never hear from it again. 

The next day she found work in a crowded loft, poorly ventilated andheated, and came home to throw herself upon her bed, exhausted. Herlandlady's children were making a terrible noise in the next room, andthe racket shot pains through her head. On the morrow she was at workagain, and kept it up to the end of the week. When she returned onSaturday, late in the afternoon, with her meagre pay-envelope in herragged muff, she had forgotten all about her effort to obtainfreedom. 

"There's a letter for ye here, from foreign parts, " announced Mrs. MacRae. "Leastwise 't ain't an American stamp. "

Madge took it from her, wondering. A queer tremor came over her. Theman had written!

Once in her room she tore the envelope open. The handwriting was queerand irregular. But a man may write badly and still be honest and true. And the words she read were wonderful. This individual, who merelysigned A. B. C. , was eager to have her come to him. She would betreated with the greatest respect. If the man and the place were notsuited to her she would naturally be at liberty to return immediately. It was unfortunate that his occupations absolutely prevented hiscoming over at once to New York to meet her. If she would only come hefelt certain that she would be pleased. The hosts of friends he hadwould welcome her. 

Thus it ran for three pages and Madge stared at the light, atremendous longing tearing at her soul, a great fear causing her heartto throb. 

She forgot the meagre supper she had brought with her and finally satdown to write again. Like the first letter it was a sort ofconfession. She acknowledged again that life no longer offered anyprospect of happiness to her. After she looked again in the littleglass she wrote that she was not very good-looking. To her own eyesshe now appeared ugly. But she said she knew a good deal abouthousekeeping, which was true, and was willing to work and toil for abit of kindness and consideration. Her face was again red as shewrote. There was something in all this that shocked her modesty, herinborn sense of propriety and decency. But, after all, she reflectedthat men and women met somehow, and became acquainted. And theacquaintance, in some cases, became love. And the love eventuated inthe only really happy life a man or a woman could lead. 

Nearly another week went by before the second answer arrived. It againurged her to come. It spoke of the wonderful place Carcajou was, ofthe marvel that was Roaring Falls, of the greatness of the woodlandsof Ontario. Indeed, for one of her limited attainments, Sophy's letterwas a remarkable effort. This time the missive was signed in printedletters: HUGO ENNIS. This seemed queer. But some men signed in verypuzzling fashion and this one had used this method, in all likelihood, in order that she might be sure to get the name right. And it was apleasant-sounding name, rather manly and attractive. 

The letter did not seem to require another answer. Madge stuffed itunder her pillow and spent a restless night. On the next day her headwas in a whirl of uncertainty. She went as far as the Grand CentralStation and inquired about the price of a ticket to Carcajou. The manhad to look for some time before he could give her the information. Itwas very expensive. The few dollars in her pocket were utterlyinadequate to such a journey, and she returned home in despair. 

On the Monday morning, at the usual hour, she started for the factory. She was about to take the car when she turned back and made her way toher room again. Her mind was made up. She would go!

She opened a tiny trunk she had brought with her from her country homeand searched it, swiftly, hurriedly. She was going. It would not do tohesitate. It was a chance. She must take it!

She pulled out a little pocketbook and opened it swiftly. Within itwas a diamond ring. It had been given to her mother by her father, intimes of prosperity, as an engagement ring. And she had kept itthrough all her hardships, vaguely feeling that a day might come whenit might save her life. She had gone very hungry, many a time, withthat gaud in her possession. She had felt that she could not part withit, that it was something that had been a part of her own dear mother, a keepsake that must be treasured to the very last. And now the momenthad come. She placed the little purse in her muff, clenched her handtightly upon it, and went out again into the street. 

She looked out upon the thoroughfare in a new, impersonal way. Shefelt as if now she were only passing through the slushy streets on herway to new lands. From the tracks of the Elevated Road dripped greatdrops of turbid water. The sky was leaden and an easterly wind, inspite of the thaw, brought the chill humidity that is more penetratingthan colder dry frost. 

She hastened along the sidewalk flooded with the icy grime of the lastsnowfall. It went through the thin soles of her worn boots. Once sheshivered in a way that was suggestive of threatened illness andfurther resort to the great hospital. Before crossing the avenue shewas compelled to halt, as the great circular brooms of a monstroussweeper shot forth streams of brown water and melting snow. Then shewent on, casting glances at the windows of small stores, and finallystopped before a little shop, dark and uninviting, whose soiled glassfront revealed odds and ends of old jewelry, watches, optical goodsand bric-a-brac that had a sordid aspect. She had long ago noticed theancient sign disposed behind the panes. It bore the words:

"We buy Old Gold and Jewelry"

For a moment only she hesitated. Her breath came and went faster as ifa sudden pain had shot through her breast. But at once she entered theplace. From the back of the store a grubby, bearded, unclean old manwearing a black skullcap looked at her keenly over the edge of hisspectacles. 

"I--I want to sell a diamond, " she told him, uneasily. 

He stared at her again, studying her poor garb, noticing the glovelesshands, appraising the worn garments she wore. He was rubbing thinlong-fingered hands together and shaking his head, in slow assent. 

"We have to be very careful, " his voice quavered. "We have to know thepeople. "

"Then I'll go, of course, " she answered swiftly, "because you don'tknow me. "

The atmosphere of the place was inexpressibly distasteful to her andthe old man's manner was sneaking and suspicious. She felt that hesuspected her of being a thief. Her shaking hand was already on thedoorknob when he called her back, hurrying towards her. 

"What's your hurry? Come back!" he called to her. "Of course I can'ttake risks. There's cases when the goods ain't come by honest. But youlook all right. Anyway 't ain't no trouble to look over the stuff. Letme see what you've got. There ain't another place in New York wherethey pay such good prices. "

She returned, hesitatingly, and handed to him a small worn case thathad once been covered with red morocco. He opened it, taking out thering and moving nearer the window, where he examined it carefully. 

"Yes. It's a diamond all right, " he admitted, paternally, as if hethus conferred a great favor upon her. "But of course it's very oldand the mounting was done years and years ago, and it's worn awfulthin. Maybe a couple of dollars worth of gold, that's all. "

"But the stone?" she asked, anxiously. 

"One moment, just a moment, I'm looking at it, " he replied, screwing amagnifying glass in the socket of one of his eyes. "Diamonds are awfulhard to sell, nowadays--very hard, but let me look some more. "

He was turning the thing around, estimating the depth of the gem andstudying the method of its cutting. 

"Very old, " he told her again. "They don't cut diamonds that waynow. "

"It belonged to my mother, " she said. 

"Of course, of course, " he quavered, repellently, so that her cheeksbegan to feel hot again. She was deeply hurt by his tone of suspicion. The sacrifice was bad enough--the implication was unbearable. 

"I don't think you want it, " she said, coldly. "Give it back to me. Ican perhaps do better at a regular pawnshop. "

But he detained her again, becoming smooth and oily. He first offeredher fifty dollars. She truthfully asserted that her father had paid acouple of hundred for it. After long bargaining and haggling hefinally agreed to give her eighty-five dollars and, worn out, the girlaccepted. She was going out of the shop, with the money, when shestopped again. 

"It seems to me that I used to see pistols, or were they revolvers, inyour show window, " she said. 

He lifted up his hands in alarm. 

"Pistols! revolvers! Don't you know there's the Sullivan law now? Weain't allowed to sell 'em--and you ain't allowed to buy 'em without alicense--a license from the police. "

"Oh! That's a pity, " said Madge. "I'm going away from New York and Ithought it might be a good idea to have one with me. "

The old man looked keenly at her again, scratching one ear withunkempt nails. Finally he drew her back of a counter, placing a fingerto his lips. 

"I'm taking chances, " he whispered. "I'm doing it to oblige. If yetell any one you got it here I'll say you never did. My word's as goodas yours. "

"I tell you I'm going away, " she repeated. "I--I'm never coming tothis city again--never as long as I live. But I want to take it withme. "

When she finally went out she carried a cheap little weapon worthperhaps four dollars, and a box of cartridges, for which she paid himten of the dollars he had handed out to her. It was with a sense ofinexpressible relief that she found herself again on the avenue, inspite of the drizzle that was coming down. The air seemed purer afterher stay in the uninviting place. Its atmosphere as well as the oldman's ways had made her feel as if she had been engaged in a veryillicit transaction. She met a policeman who was swinging his club, and the man gave her an instant of carking fear. But he paid not theslightest heed to her and she went on, breathing more freely. It wasas if the great dark pall of clouds hanging over the city was beingtorn asunder. At any rate the world seemed to be a little brighter. 

She went home and deposited her purchase, going out again at once. Shestopped at a telegraph office where the clerk had to consult a largebook before he discovered that messages could be accepted for Carcajouin the Province of Ontario, and wrote out the few words announcing hercoming. After this she went into other shops, carefully consulting asmall list she had made out. Among other things she bought a pair ofstout boots and a heavy sweater. With these and a very few articles ofunderwear, since she could spare so little, she returned to the GrandCentral and purchased the needed ticket, a long thing with manysections to be gradually torn off on the journey. Berths on sleepers, she decided, were beyond her means. Cars were warm, as a rule, and aslong as she wasn't frozen and starving she could endure anything. Notfar from the house she lived in there was an express office where aman agreed to come for her trunk, in a couple of hours. 

Then she climbed up to Mrs. MacRae's. 

"I'm going to leave you, " announced the girl. "I--I have foundsomething out of town. Of course I'll pay for the whole week. "

The woman expressed her regret, which was genuine. Her lodger hadnever been troublesome and the small rent she paid helped out a verypoor income mostly derived from washing and scrubbing. 

"I hope it's a good job ye've found, child, " she said. "D'ye know forsure what kind o' place ye're goin' to? Are you certain it's allright?"

"Oh! If it isn't I'll make it so, " answered Madge, cryptically, as shewent over to her room. Here, from beneath the poor little iron bed, she dragged out a small trunk and began her packing. For obviousreasons this did not take very long. It was a scanty trousseau thebride was taking with her to the other wilderness. After her clothesand few other possessions had been locked in, the room looked verybare and dismal. She sat on the bed, holding a throbbing head thatseemed very hot with hands that were quite cold. After a time theexpressman came and removed the trunk. There was a lot of time tospare yet and Madge remained seated. Thoughts by the thousand crowdedinto her brain--the gist of them was that the world was a terriblyharsh and perilous place. 

"I--I can't stay here any longer!" she suddenly decided, "or I'll gettoo scared to go. I--I must start now! I'll wait in the station. "

So she bade Mrs. MacRae good-by, after handing her a dollar and ahalf, and received a tearful blessing. Then, carrying out a smallhandbag, she found herself once more on the sidewalk and began tobreathe more freely. The die was cast now. She was leaving all thismud and grime and was gambling on a faint chance of rest and comfort, with her dead mother's engagement ring, the very last thing of anyvalue that she had hitherto managed to keep. It was scarcely happinessthat she expected to find. If only this man might be good to her, ifonly he placed her beyond danger of immediate want, if only he treatedher with a little consideration, life would become bearable again!

As she walked along the avenue the pangs of hunger came to her, keenly. For once she would have a sufficient meal! She entered arestaurant and ordered lavishly. Hot soup, hot coffee, hot rolls, adish of steaming stew with mashed potatoes, and finally a portion ofhot pudding, furnished her with a meal such as she had not tasted formonths and months. A sense of comfort came to her, and she placed fivecents on the table as a tip to the girl who had waited on her. She wasfeeling ever so much better as she went out again. She had spent fiftycents for one meal, like a woman rolling in wealth. At a delicatessenshop she purchased a loaf of bread and a box of crackers, with alittle cold meat. She knew that meals on trains were very expensive. 

As she reached the station she felt that she had burned her bridgesbehind her. She could never come back, since the few dollars that wereleft would never pay for her return. 

"But I'm not coming back, " she told herself grimly. "I'm my own masternow. "

She felt the bottom of her little bag. Yes, the pistol was there, aprotector from insult or a means towards that end she no longerdreaded. 

"No! I'll never come back!" she repeated to herself. "I'll never seethis city again. It--it's been too hard, too cruelly hard!"

The girl was glad to sit down at last on one of the big benches in thewaiting-room. It was nice and warm, at any rate, and the seat wascomfortable enough. Her arm had begun to ache from carrying the bag, and she had done so much running about that her legs felt weary andshaky. A woman sitting opposite looked at her for an instant andturned away. There was nothing to interest any one in the garmentsjust escaping shabbiness, or in the pale face with its big dark-rimmedeyes. People are very unconscious, as a rule, of the tragedy, thedrama or the comedy being enacted before their eyes. 

Gradually Madge began to feel a sense of peace stealing over her. Shewas actually beginning to feel contented. It was a chance worthtaking, since things could never be worse. And then there was thatthing in her bag. Presently a woman came to sit quite close to herwith a squalling infant in her arms and another standing at her knee. She was a picture of anxiety and helplessness. But after a time a mancame, bearing an old cheap suit-case tied up with clothes-line, whospoke in a foreign tongue as the woman sighed with relief and a smilecame over her face. 

Yes! That was it! The coming of the man had solved all fears anddoubts! There was security in his care and protection. With a catch inher breathing the girl's thoughts flew over vast unknown expanses andwent to that other man who was awaiting her. Her vivid imaginationpresented him like some strange being appearing before her under formsthat kept changing. The sound of his voice was a mystery to her andshe had not the slightest idea of his appearance. That advertisementstated that he was young and the first letter had hinted that hepossessed fair looks. Yet moments came in which the mere idea of himwas terrifying, and this, in swiftly changing moods, changed to formsthat seemed to bring her peace, a surcease of hunger and cold, ofunavailing toil, of carking fear of the morrow. 

At times she would look about her, and the surroundings would becomeblurred, as if she had been weeping. The hastening people moved as ifthrough a heavy mist and the announcer's voice, at intervals, boomedout loudly and called names that suggested nothing to her. Again hervision might clear and she would notice little trivial things, abewildered woman dragging a pup that was most unwilling, a childhauling a bag too heavy for him, a big negro with thumbs in thearmholes of his vest, yawning ponderously. For the hundredth time shelooked at the big clock and found that she still had over an hour towait for her train. Again she lost sight of the ever-changing throngs, of the massive structure in which she seemed to be lost, and the roarof the traffic faded away in the long backward turning of her brain, delving into the past. There was the first timid yet hopeful coming tothe big city and the discovery that a fair high-school education, withsome knowledge of sewing and fancywork, was but poor merchandise toexchange for a living. Her abundance of good looks, at that time, hadproved nothing but a hindrance and a danger. Then had come the bittertoil for a pittance, and sickness, and the hospital, and the longperiod of convalescence during which everything but the ring had beenswept away. She had met the sharp tongues of slatternly, disappointedlandladies, while she looked far and wide for work. At first she hadbeen compelled to ask girls on the street for the meaning of cardspasted on windows or hanging in doorways. Words such as "Bushel girlson pants" or "Stockroom assistants" had signified nothing to her. Month by month she had worked in shops and factories where the workshe exacted from her ill-nourished body sapped her strength andthinned her blood. Nor could she compete with many of the girls, brought up to such labor, smart, pushing, inured to an existencecarried on with the minimum of food and respirable air. 

The red came to her cheeks again as she remembered insults that hadbeen proffered to her. It deepened further as she thought of thatpaper picked up on a bench of a little city square. The fear of havingmade a terrible mistake returned to her, more strongly than ever. Herefforts towards peace now seemed immodest, bold, unwomanly. But thatfirst vision had been so keen of a quiet-voiced man extending a stronghand to welcome and protect as he smiled at her in pleasant greeting!Her vague notions of a far country in which was no wilderness of brickand mortar but only the beauty of smiling fields or of scented forestshad filled her heart with a passionate longing. And the last thing thedoctor had told her, in the hospital, was that she ought to live faraway from the city, in the pure air of God's country. It was with ahot face and a throbbing heart that she now remembered the poor littleletters she had written. Even the sending of that telegram now filledher with shame. And yet. .. . 

With clamorous voice the man was announcing her train. After aheart-rending moment's hesitation she hastened to where a few peoplewere waiting. The gates opened and she was pushed along. It was as ifher own will could no longer lead her, as if she were being carried bya strong tide, with other jetsam, towards shores unknown. 

At last she was seated in an ordinary coach, than which man has neverdevised sorrier accommodation for a long journey. Finally the trainstarted and she sought to look out of the window but obtained only ablurred impression of columns and pillars lighted at intervals byflickering bulbs. They made her eyes ache. But presently she made out, to her left, the dark surface of a big river. A few more lights wereglinting upon it, appearing and disappearing. Vaguely she made out theoutlines of a few vessels that were battling against the drifting ice, for she could see myriad sparks flying from what must have been thesmokestacks of tugs or river steamers. 

Her fellow passengers were mostly laborers or emigrants going north orwest. The air was tainted with the scent of garlic. Children began tocry and later grew silent or merely fretful. Finally the languor ofinfinite weariness came over the girl and she lay back, uncomfortably, and tried to sleep. At frequent intervals she awoke and sat up again, with terror expressed in her face and deep blue eyes. Once she fellinto a dream and was so startled that she had to restrain herself fromrushing down the aisle and seeking to escape from some unknown dangerthat seemed to be threatening her. 

Again she passed a finger over the blurred glass and sought to lookout. The train seemed to be plunging into strange and grisly horrors. Overwrought as she was a flood of tears came to her eyes and seemed tobring her greater calm, so that at last she fell into a deeper sleep, heavy, visionless, no longer attended with sudden terrors. 

CHAPTER IV

To Roaring River

At last the morning came and Madge awoke. At first she could notrealize where she was. Her limbs ached from their cramped position anda pain was gnawing at her, which meant hunger. In spite of the heatersin the car a persistent chilliness had come over her, and all at onceshe was seized by an immense discouragement. She felt that she was nowbeing borne away to some terrible place. Those people called itRoaring River. Now that she thought of it the very name representedsomething that was gruesome and panicky. But then she lay back andreflected that its flood would be cleaner and its bed a better placeto leap into, if her fears were realized, than the turbid waters ofthe Hudson. She knew that she was playing her last stake. It mustresult in a life that could be tolerated or else in an end she hadbattled against, to the limit of endurance. 

She quietly made a meal of the provisions she had brought. Her wearybrain no longer reacted to disturbing thoughts and vague fears and shefelt that she was drifting, peacefully, to some end that was by thistime nearly indifferent to her. The day wore on, with a long intervalin Ottawa, where she dully waited in the station, the restaurantpermitting her to indulge in a comforting cup of coffee. All that shesaw of the town was from the train. There was a bridge above thetracks, near the station, and on the outskirts there were winding andfrozen waterways on which some people skated. As she went on the landseemed to take an even chillier aspect. The snow was very deep. Farmsand small villages were half buried in it. The automobiles and wheeledconveyances of New York had disappeared. Here and there she could seea sleigh, slowly progressing along roads, the driver heavily muffledand the horse traveling in a cloud of vapor. When night came they werealready in a vast region of rock and evergreen trees, of swift runningrivers churning huge cakes of ice, and the dwellings seemed to be veryfew and far between. The train passed through a few fairly largetowns, at first, and she noted that the people were unfamiliarly clad, wearing much fur, and the inflections of their voices were strange toher. By this time the train was running more slowly, puffing up longgrades and sliding down again with a harsh grinding of brakes thatseemed to complain. When the moon rose it shone over endless snow, broken only by dim, solid-looking masses of conifers. Here and thereshe could also vaguely discern rocky ledges upon which gaunt twistedlimbs were reminders of devastating forest fires. There were alsogreat smooth places that must have been lakes or the beds of widerivers shackled in ice overlaid with heavy snow. Whenever the door ofthe car was opened a blast of cold would enter, bitingly, and sheshivered. 

Came another morning which found her haggard with want of sleep andbroken with weariness. But she knew that she was getting very near theplace and all at once she began to dread the arrival, to wish vainlythat she might never reach her destination, and this feeling continuedto grow keener and keener. 

Finally the conductor came over to her and told her that the train wasnearing her station. Obligingly he carried her bag close to the doorand she stood up beside him, swaying a little, perhaps only from themotion of the car. The man looked at her and his face expressed someconcern but he remained silent until the train stopped. 

Madge had put on her thin cloak. The frosted windows of the car spokeof intense cold and the rays of the rising sun had not yet passed overthe serrated edges of the forest. 

"I'm afraid you'll find it mighty cold, ma'am, " ventured theconductor. "Hope you ain't got to go far in them clothes. Maybe yourfriends 'll be bringing warmer things for you. Run right into thestation; there's a fire there. Joe 'll bring your baggage inside. Goodmorning, ma'am. "

She noticed that he was looking at her with some curiosity, and hercourage forsook her once more. It was as if, for the first time in herlife, she had undertaken to walk into a lion's cage, with the animalgrowling and roaring. She felt upon her cheeks the bite of the hardfrost, but there was no wind and she was not so very cold, at first. She looked about her as the train started. Scattered within a fewhundred yards there were perhaps two score of small frame houses. Atthe edge of what might have been a pasture, all dotted with stumps, stood a large deserted sawmill, the great wire-guyed sheet-iron pipeleaning over a little, dismally. A couple of very dark men sherecognized as Indians looked at her without evincing the slightestshow of interest. From a store across the street a young woman with athick head of red hair peeped out for an instant, staring at her. Thenthe door closed again. After this a monstrously big man with long, tow-colored wisps of straggling hair showing at the edges of his heavymuskrat cap, and a ragged beard of the same color, came to her as shestood upon the platform, undecided, again a prey to her fears. The mansmiled at her, pleasantly, and touched his cap. 

"Ay tank you're de gal is going ofer to Hugo Ennis, " he said, in adeep, pleasant voice. 

She opened her mouth to answer but the words refused to come. Hermouth felt unaccountably dry--she could not swallow. But she noddedher head in assent. 

"I took de telegraft ofer to his shack, " the Swede further informedher, "but Hugo he ain't here yet. I tank he come soon. Come inside devaiting-room or you freeze qvick. Ain't you got skins to put on?"

She shook her head and he grasped her bag with one hand and one of herelbows with the other and hurried her into the little station. JoeFollansbee had a redhot fire going in the stove, whose top wasglowing. The man pointed at a bench upon which she could sit and stoodat her side, shaving tobacco from a big black plug. She decided thathis was a reassuring figure and that his face was a good and friendlyone. 

"Do you think that--that Mr. Ennis will come soon?" she finally foundvoice to ask. 

"Of course, ma'am. You yoost sit qviet. If Hugo he expect a leddy heturn up all right, sure. It's tvelve mile ofer to his place, ma'am, and he ain't got but one dog. "

She could not quite understand what the latter fact signified. Whatmattered it how many dogs he had? She was going to ask for furtherexplanation when the door opened and the young woman who had peeped ather came in. She was heavily garbed in wool and fur. As she cast aglance at Madge she bit her lips. For the briefest instant shehesitated. No, she would not speak, for fear of betraying herself, andshe went to the window of the little ticket-office. 

"Anything for us, Joe?" she asked. 

"No. There's no express stuff been left, " he answered. "Your stuff'llbe along by freight, I reckon. Wait a moment and I'll give you themail-bag. "

"You can bring it over. It--it doesn't matter about the goods. "

She turned about, hastily, and nodded to big Stefan. Then she peeredat Madge again, with a sidelong look, and left the waiting-room. 

As so often happens she had imagined this woman who was coming assomething entirely different from the reality. She had evolved vagueideas of some sort of adventuress, such as she had read of in a fewcheap novels that had found their way to Carcajou. In spite of themild and timid tone of the letters she had prepared to see some sortof termagant, or at least a woman enterprising, perhaps bold, one whowould make it terribly hot for the man she would believe had deceivedher and brought her on a fool's errand. This little thin-faced girlwho looked with big, frightened eyes was something utterly unexpected, she knew not why. 

"And--and she ain't at all bad-looking, " she acknowledged to herself, uneasily. "She don't look like she'd say 'Boo' to a goose, either. Butthen maybe she's deceiving in her looks. A woman who'd come like thatto marry a man she don't know can't amount to much. Like enough she'sa little hypocrite, with her appearance that butter wouldn't melt inher mouth. And my! The clothes she's got on! I wonder if she didn'tlook at me kinder suspicious. Seemed as if she was taking me in, fromhead to foot. "

In this Miss Sophy was probably mistaken. Madge had looked at herbecause the garb of brightly-edged blanketing, the fur cap and mitts, the heavy long moccasins, all made a picture that was unfamiliar. There was perhaps some envy in the look, or at least the desire thatshe also might be as well fended against the bitter cold. She had themiserable feeling that comes over both man and woman when feeling thatone's garments are out of place and ill-suited to the occasion. OnceMadge had seen a moving-picture representing some lurid drama of theNorth, and some of the women in it had worn that sort of clothing. 

Big Stefan had lighted his pipe and sought a seat that creaked underhis ponderous weight. He opened the door of the stove and threw two orthree large pieces of yellow birch in it. 

"Guess it ain't nefer cold vhere you comes from, " he ventured. "You'llhaf to put on varm tings if you goin' all de vay to Roaring RiferFalls. "

"I'm afraid I have nothing warmer than this, " the girl faltered. "I--Ididn't know it was so very cold here. And--and I'm nicely warmed upnow, and perhaps I won't feel it so very much. "

"You stay right here an' vait for me, " he told her, and went out ofthe waiting-room, hurriedly. But he opened the door again. 

"If Hugo he come vhile I am avay, you tell him I pring youst two threetings from my voman for you. I'm back right avay. So long, ma'am!"

She was left alone for at least a quarter of an hour, and it remindedher of a long wait she had undergone in the reception-room of thehospital. Then, as now, she had feared the unknown, had shivered atthe thought that presently she would be in the hands of strange peoplewho might or not be friendly, and be lost among a mass of sufferinghumanity. Twice she heard the runners of sleighs creaking on theground, and her heart began to beat, but the sounds faded away. Joe, the station agent, came in and asked her civilly whether she was warmenough, telling her that outside it was forty below. Wood was cheap, he told her, and he put more sticks in the devouring stove. After shehad thanked him and given him the check for her little trunk hevanished again, and she listened to the telegraph sounder. 

Stefan, returning, was hailed at the door of the store by SophyMcGurn. 

"Who's the strange lady, Stefan?" she asked, most innocently. 

"It's a leddy vhat is expectin' Hugo Ennis, " he answered. 

"How queer!" said the girl, airily. 

"Ay dunno, " answered the Swede. "Vhen Hugo he do a thing it ain'tnefer qveer, Ay tank. "

She turned away and Stefan stepped over to the depot and opened thedoor. Madge looked up, startled and again afraid. It was a relief toher to see Stefan's friendly face. She had feared. .. . She didn't knowwhat she dreaded so much--perhaps a face repellent--a man who wouldlook at her and in whose eyes she might discern insult or contempt. 

The big Swede held an armful of heavy clothing. 

"Ye can't stay here, leddy, " he said. "You come ofer to my house sinceEnnis he no coming. Dese clothes is from my ole vomans. Mebbe ye looklike--like de dooce in dem, but dat's better as to freeze to death. Anyou vants a big breakfass so you goes vid me along. Hey dere! Joe! IfEnnis he come you tell him come ofer to me, ye hear?"

A few minutes later Madge was trudging over the beaten snow by theside of her huge companion. Her head was ensconced within the foldsof a knitted shawl and over her thin cloak she wore an immensemackinaw of flaming hues whose skirts fell 'way below her knees. Over her boots, protestingly, she had drawn on an amazing pair ofthings made of heavy felt and ending in thick rubber feet, thatwere huge and unwieldy. Her hands were lost in great scarlet mitts. Itis possible that at this time there was little feminine vanity left inher, yet she looked furtively to one side or the other, expectingscoffing glances. She felt sure that she looked like one of thefantastically-clad ragamuffins she had seen in the streets of NewYork, at Christmas and Thanksgiving. But the pair met but one or twoIndian women who wore a garb that was none too æsthetic and who paidnot the slightest attention to them, and a few men who may possiblyhave wondered but, with the instinctive civility of the North, neverrevealed their feelings. 

As a matter of fact she had hardly believed in this cold, at first. The station agent's announcement had possessed little meaning for her. There was no wind; the sun was shining brightly now; during the minuteshe had remained on the station platform she had felt nothing unusual. As a matter of fact she had enjoyed the keen brisk air after the tepidstuffiness of the cars. But presently she began to realize a certaintingling and sharp quality of the air. The little of her face that wasexposed began to feel stiff and queer. Even through the heavy clothingshe now wore she seemed to have been plunged in a strange atmosphere. For an instant, after she finally reached Stefan's house, the contrastbetween the cold outside and the warm living-room, that was also thekitchen, appeared to suffocate her. 

A tall stout woman waddled towards her, smiling all over and biddingher a good-day. She helped remove the now superfluous things. 

"De yoong leddy she come all de vay from Nev York, vhat is a real hotcountry, I expect, " explained Stefan, placidly and inaccurately. "Sitdown, leddy, an haf sometings to eat. You needs plenty grub, good an'hot, in dem cold days. Ve sit down now. Here, Yoe, and you, Yulia, come ofer an' talk to de leddy! Dem's our children, ma'am, and de babyin de grib. "

Madge was glad to greet the rosy, round-cheeked children, who advancedtimidly towards her and stared at her out of big blue eyes. 

Hesitatingly she took the seat Stefan had indicated with a big thumb, and suddenly a ravenous hunger came upon her. The great pan full ofsizzling bacon and fat pork; the steaming and strongly scented coffee;the great pile of thick floury rolls taken out of the oven, appearedto constitute a repast fit for the gods. Stefan and his family joinedhands while the mother asked a short blessing, during which thechildren were hard put to it to stop from staring again at thestranger. 

"And so, " ventured the good wife, amiably, "you iss likely de sisterfrom Hugo Ennis, ma'am?"

Madge's fork clattered down upon her enamel-ware plate. 

"No, " she said. "I--of course I'm not his sister. "

"Excoose me. He don't nefer tell nobody as he vas marrit, Hugo didn't. Ve vas alvays tinking he vos a bachelor mans, yoost like most of demyoung mans as come to dese countries. "

"But--but I'm not his wife, either!" cried Madge, nervously. 

"I--I don't yoost understand, den, " said the good woman, placidly. "Oh! mebbe you help grub-stake him vhile he vork at de rocks for datsilfer and you come see how he gettin' along. Ve tank he do veryvell. "

"Yes, Hugo he got some ore as is lookin' very fine, all uncoferedalretty, " Stefan informed her. "Und it's such a bretty place he haf atde Falls. "

The man doubtless referred to the scenery but Madge was under theimpression that he was speaking of the house in which this Ennislived. It was strange that he had said nothing to these people, whoevidently knew him well, in regard to the reason of her coming. It wasprobably a well-meant discretion that had guided his conduct, shethought, but it had caused her some little embarrassment. 

"In his letter Mr. Ennis said that I was to come straight to thisplace, to Carcajou. He told me that I would be taken to his house atRoaring River Falls, that I might see it. I--I suppose there is avillage up there or--or some houses, where I may stay. "

Stefan stared at her, scratching his touzled yellow head, and turnedto his wife, who was looking at him as she poised a forkful of fatbacon in the air, forgetfully. 

"Maybe de leddy means Papineau's, " he said. "But if Hugo Ennis he sayfor her to come then it is all right, sure. Hugo vould do only vhat isright. He is my friend. He safe my life. So if he don't turn up by detime ve finish breakfast I hitch up dem togs an' take you dere realqvick. Mebbe he can't come for you, some vay. Mebbe Maigan hurt orsick so he can't pull toboggan. You vant to go, no?"

"I--I suppose so, " faltered the girl. "I--I must see him, as soon aspossible, and--and. .. . "

"Dat's all right, " interrupted Stefan. "So long you vants to go I takeyou up dere. No trouble for to do anyting for Hugo and his friends. Dedogs is strong an' fresh. Ve go up there mighty qvick, I bet you, ma'am. "

Mrs. Olsen was not used to question her husband's decisions. Thereseemed to be something rather mysterious about all this, but she was aplacid soul who could wait in peace for the explanation that woulddoubtless be forthcoming. Anyway there was Papineau's house about amile away from the Falls, and the girl could find shelter there. Shesmiled at her guest pleasantly and urged her to eat more. For someminutes Madge's appetite had forsaken her. But the temptation of goodfood in abundance overcame her alarm. She felt the comfort of a quiet, God-fearing, civil-spoken household. They were rough people, in theirway, but they seemed so genuine, so friendly, so full of the desire tohelp her and put her at her ease, that she was again reassured. Herhunger assailed her and she ate what she considered a huge breakfast, though Stefan Olsen's family seemed to wonder at her scanty ability todispose of the things they piled upon her plate. When large browngriddle-cakes were finally placed before her she could eat but asingle one. 

"Mebbe, " said the good woman, "in Nev York you ain't used to tingslike ve country people have. "

Used to them, forsooth! Indeed she had not been used to such things. She remembered the small bottles of bluish milk, the butter doled outin yellow lumps of strong taste, the couple of rolls that would make ameal, the cup of tea or coffee of pale hue, the bits of meat she couldafford but once in several days. No, indeed she had not been used tosuch things, in the last two years. 

"Vhen you stays in dis coontry for a vhiles den you can eat like agoot feller and not like a little bird, " Stefan assured her, comfortingly. "Den you get nice and fat, and red on de cheeks, andstrong. "

Mrs. Olsen was still smiling at her, as she sat with plump handsfolded on an ample stomach. The two children had become used to herand came near. A seat was given to her near the stove. Lack of sleepduring the two hard nights spent on the train caused her head to nod, once or twice. 

"Mebbe you vants to rest a bit before ve goes, " suggested Stefan. "Dere's plenty time if you like. "

But this roused her to alert attention. She must go, at once, for allthis suspense and uncertainty must be ended. For some happy momentsshe had thought no more of the man who was expecting her. The comfortshe had enjoyed had temporarily banished him from her thoughts. 

"No--oh, no!" she cried. "I--I'll be glad to leave as soon as you areready to take me!"

At this moment she became keenly puzzled. She still had a very fewdollars in her purse and wondered whether she ought to offer paymentfor her meal. Instinct wisely prompted her to keep the littlepocketbook in her bag. They would undoubtedly have been surprised andperhaps offended. 

Stefan drew on his great Dutch stockings and pulled his fur cap overhis ears. An instant after he had left the room Madge heard loudbarking. As she looked out of the window, scratching off a little ofthe frost that covered the panes, she saw the big Swede surrounded byfive large dogs which he was hitching to a toboggan. Then he got onthe thing and the animals galloped away. A few minutes later hereturned, with her small trunk lashed to the back part of the sled. Heentered the house and took a straw-filled pillow and a huge bearskinand bore them out. 

In the meanwhile Mrs. Olsen was helping Madge to resume her outlandishgarb. 

"Mebbe Mr. Ennis he not know you vhen you come so all wrapped up. Mebbe he tink it is a bear. Yes, put dis on too, you vants it all, "she declared. "It's all of twelve mile out dere. If you not need detings no longer, by and by you send 'em back. It's all right. I noneed 'em. Yoost keep 'em so long vhat you like. Didn't Hugo Ennis tellyou bring varm clothes vid you?"

"No, " said Madge. "I--I don't think he spoke of them. "

"Mens is awful foolish some times, " asserted the good woman. "Dey payno attention to tings everybotty knows all about. I tank Stefan healretty now, so I say good-by and come again, ma'am. Alvays happy tersee you again vhen you comes, sure. "

The little girl came to Madge and rose upon her toes, for a kiss. Moretimidly the boy only proffered a hand. Mrs. Olsen kissed her palecheek with a resounding smack. 

"Mens is fonny sometimes, " she said. "If tings isn't all right likeyou expect mebbe at Papineau's you come back here soon as you finishvhat you haf to do at Roaring Rifer. I haf anodder bed I can fix up inde back room real easy. Good py, ma'am, and look out careful for yournose!"

With this incomprehensible bit of advice Mrs. Olsen opened the door, swiftly, and closed it just as fast. Madge saw her smiling at herthrough the window-pane. Stefan made her sit down on the pillow, overwhich he had laid the bearskin, which he then wrapped over hershoulders and body and limbs. 

"Now ve starts right off, " he told her. "Look out careful for yournose, leddy, " he also advised before calling to his dogs, who strainedaway at the long traces and trotted away, pulling heartily. 

Wearing a pair of huge snowshoes Stefan followed or kept at the sideof the toboggan. They left the road and struck a sort of path that ledthem up a hill. To her right hand she could see a vast expanse offrozen lake stretching away to the north. In some places the snowappeared to be quite level while in others it was deeply wrinkled inridges caused by the winds. Presently the trees grew more abundantalong the way. They were silvery birches and the yellow ones, andpoplars with slender branches ending in tiny bare twigs. The conifersstill wore thick coats of dark green, excepting the tamaracks, thatonly carried a few long golden needles. These big trees were dottedover with great lumps of snow and ice which occasionally clattereddown through the branches. 

Madge looked up and the world seemed to assume a wondrous new beautysuch as she had never known. The blue above was wonderfully clear andbright. Over the snow the sunlight was beating strongly, though itappeared to give little or no heat. Yet in the great patches of shadowthrough which they passed at times it felt colder still. 

"Yoost keep on feelin' yer nose, " Stefan told her, as the dogs restedfor a moment at the top of a small hill. "You mustn't let it getfrost-bited, ma'am. It ain't such a awful big nose you got, leddy, butyou sure vouldn't look so bretty if it drop off. Ha, ha!"

He laughed out loudly, apparently enjoying his ponderous joke greatly, but she felt that she must heed his advice and frequently carried thebig mitt Mrs. Olsen had lent her to her face. They came to a greatexpanse of deep forest where, in places, the ground was nearly bare ofsnow. The pulling was hard here and the dogs toiled along more slowlyand panted as their cloudy breaths rose in steamy puffs. Madge admiredthem. They seemed such strong, willing animals. When they rested for amoment they would lie down and bite off the little balls of ice thatformed beneath their toes, but at a word they would leap up again andthrow themselves against their breast-bands, eagerly. In one difficultplace Madge protested. 

"The poor things are working so hard, " she said. "Couldn't I get outand walk for a while? I don't feel tired at all now, but your poordogs do, I'm sure. "

"No, ma'am, " replied Stefan. "They ain't tired. They yoost look sobecause they work hard. In dis country togs and men has to work hardor go hoongry. In a moment you sees how dey run again, vhen dey getgood going. Dem togs can go dis vay all day and be fresh againto-morrow. Eferybody here knows vhat my team o' togs can do, ma'am. "

It was evident that he was proud of them, and Madge decided that itwas with good reason. They had started again and reached an expanse ofburnt land, upon which the snow was crusted and the road was on a downgrade. The team that had panted so hard, with lolling tongues, threwitself into the collars and trotted off again, briskly, while Stefanfollowed with the short-stepped and effortless flat-footed run thatcovers so much ground in the north. The girl had to balance herselfrather carefully at times, for the surface was by no means a levelone. The toboggan swayed and bumped over hidden things that may havebeen stumps or rocks, or great buried ruts of the previous fall. 

It was all so new and wonderful! A sense of enjoyment actually stoleover her. But for the feeling of stiffness in her face she feltcomfortably warm. Without ever meeting a soul, through a country thatseemed utterly deserted of man, they went on for several miles. OnceStefan stopped the toboggan in order to show her tracks of a bear. Itwas wonderful to think that such animals roamed about her. The Swedetold her that they were utterly harmless, that they always fled assoon as their keen eyes or sharp ears revealed the neighborhood oftheir enemies, the men who coveted their thick and long-haired hidesworth a good many dollars. But she saw few living things; once therewas a great snowy owl that rose heavily and then flew swiftly and insilence from a stump in a _brulé_, disappearing among the trees likean animated shadow, yes, a shadow of sudden death to hares andpartridges cowering beneath the fronds of wide-spreading conifers orin the great tangles of frost-killed long grasses. 

It was altogether another world, strange and of rugged beauty. Shefelt as if she had been transported from the seething city into thevast peace of some landscape of moon or stars. Every bit of the oldharsh world was now left behind and there was no longer any hint ofcruelty in the snowy plains and hills and forest; nothing reminded herof despairing hunger, of the disbelief that had stolen upon her in thepossibility of eking out much longer a life that was too hard tosustain. What if her errand seemed fantastic, unreal, since this newworld also was like some illusion of a dream? The great stillnessappeared to be friendly--the bent tops of snow-laden trees surelybowed a welcome to her--the shining sun and the pure air, in spite ofbitter cold, drove the blood more rapidly through her veins and she nolonger deemed life to be a mere form of suffering, such as she hadundergone during the last year of her losing contest in the cruel, pitiless town. 

Suddenly, as Stefan trudged behind in a narrow part of the oldtote-road, a big white hare crossed the path ahead of the dogs, perhaps seeking to escape the pursuit of some marten or weasel. Atonce the team broke into a headlong gallop, a helter-skelter pursuit, while their master roared at them unavailingly. Down a small declivitythey flew. A moment later one side of the toboggan rose suddenly andthe passenger felt herself being shot off into the snow. As the sledupset the little trunk lashed to its back caught into something andfirmly anchored the whole contrivance, a few yards further on, andperforce the animals stopped with hanging tongues and steamingbreaths. 

An instant later Stefan was helping Madge arise. He looked at her indeep concern. 

"Dem tamn togs!" he roared. "I hope you ain't hurted none, leddy?"

With his assistance she rose quickly from the snow. It is possiblethat she had scarcely had time enough to become afraid. At any ratethis new life that had come to her asserted itself, irresistibly, forthere was something in its essence that would not be denied. In theheart that had been overburdened something broke, like a floodbursting its bonds. She threw up her head and uplifted her hands aslaughter, pealing and rippling unrestrained, shook her slender framefrom head to foot until tears ran down the now reddened cheeks andturned to tiny globes of ice. She was making up for weeks and monthsof sombre thoughts, of despair, of shrewd suffering. 

"Tank gootness!" roared Stefan. "First I tink dem togs yoost kill youdead. If so I take de pelts off 'em all alife, de scoundrels!"

"Oh! Please don't punish them, " she cried. "It--it was so funny! Oh, dear! I--I must stop laughing! It--it hurts my sides!"

She ran off among the dogs and threw herself down on the crusted snow, passing one arm over a shaggy back. The animal looked at her, uncertainly, but suddenly he passed a big moist tongue over her face. Could he have realized that her saving grace might avert condignpunishment? The girl petted him as Stefan turned the toboggan and itsload right side up. 

"You ain't feared of dem togs, " he called to her. "And you vasn'tafraid vhen dey dump you out. You's a blucky gal all right, leddy!"

A moment later she was again wrapped up in the bearskin and the dogs, loudly threatened but unpunished, owing to her intercession, resumedtheir journey. They had gone but a few hundred yards further whenMadge smelled wood-smoke. A few minutes later they came in sight of alow-built shack of heavy planks evidently turned out in a sawpit andresting on walls of peeled spruce logs. The dogs trotted toward it anda woman came out as Stefan stopped his team. 

"I got a letter for you, Mis' Carew, " he announced. "I got it dismorning at de post-office and bring it as I come along dis vay. "

He searched a pocket of his coat while the woman looked at Madgecuriously. 

"Won't you come in and warm yourself a while?" she asked, civilly. "Ican make you a hot cup of tea in a minute. "

"Thank you! Thank you ever so much, " answered Madge. "I--I think we'dbetter hurry on. "

Stefan had found the letter and handed it to Mrs. Carew. 

"Wait a moment, Stefan, won't you?" asked the woman. "There mightpossibly be some message you could take for me. "

The man lit his pipe while the woman went indoors. A moment later shecame out, excitedly. 

"Oh! Stefan, " she cried. "I'm so glad you came. My man's away with thedogs, gone after a load of moose-meat, and won't be back tillto-morrow. And my daughter Mary's very sick at Missanaibie and wantsme to come right over. Could you take me over to the depot in time forthe afternoon train west? Are you going back to-day?"

Stefan pulled out a big silver watch and studied it. 

"Yes, ma'am, " he answered. "I'm yoost goin' over to Hugo's wid disleddy. If I go real smart I can get back in time, but I got to hurry abit. So long! I come right soon back. Leave a vord for Tom und beready de moment I come. I make it, sure!"

With this assurance he started off again, while the woman was stillcrying out her thanks. There was a long bit of good going now, whichthey covered at a good pace. Madge was thinking how helpful all thesepeople were, how naturally they gave, how readily they asked for thehelp that was always welcome, as far as she could see. Yes, it was allso very different. 

"Won't the dogs be dreadfully tired, " she asked, "if you go back sosoon?"

"No, leddy, " he asserted. "Twenty-four miles ain't much of a trip. Deymake tvice dat if need come. And me too, sure t'ing!"

As she looked at him she knew that he spoke the simple truth. Even thepeople of this country seemed to be built differently. All of themlooked sturdy, self-reliant, strong to endure, and, more thananything, ready to share everything either with stranger or withfriend. In spite of the weariness she felt after her long journey andof the ache in her bones that was coming from the unusual manner ofher travelling, she felt that this was a blessed country, a haven ofrest that held promise of wonderful peace. All at once they came insight of a river, snow-shackled like all the others, except for blackpatches where the under-running flood so hurried in rapid places thatthe surface could not freeze. From such air-holes, as they are called, steam arose that was like the smoke of fires. 

"What is that river?" she called. 

"Dat's de Roaring Rifer, leddy, " Stefan informed her. "Ve's only alittle vays to go now. Maybe five minute. "

At this moment, as in a flash, all of her vague and carking fearsreturned to the girl, and her hand went to her breast. It was only alittle way now! And it was no dream--no figment of her imagination!The beginning of the real adventure was at hand! Truth flashed uponher. In a few moments she would see for the first time the man she wasto marry. She blushed fiery red. Instinctively she looked about her, like some wild thing vainly seeking for a way to escape impendingperil. What would he be like? What would he think of her? Oh! She nowknew that it had all been a frightful mistake! Her limbs shook with asudden bitter coldness that had fallen upon her like one of the massesthat became displaced from the great trees, and she could not keep herteeth from chattering. Then, in her ears, began to boom a strongcontinuous sound that was ominous, threatening. 

[Illustration: Truth flashed upon her! In a few moments she would see forthe first time the man she was to marry]

"What's that?" she stammered, trembling. 

"Dat's de noise of dem big Falls of Roaring River, " answered Stefan. 

An instant later, Madge never knew why, the dogs were snarling in afight. In a moment Stefan was among them, wielding his short-handledand long-lashed whip. A trace was broken. By the time the damage wasrepaired and the dogs pacified some ten minutes or more had beenwasted. The man looked at his watch. 

"I ain't got so much time left, " he said. "I got to hurry back forMis' Carew. Lucky ve're most dere now. "

A few seconds after they had started again they came to an opening, towards which Stefan pointed, and the girl's heart sank within her. 

She saw nothing of the distant falls surrounded by a growth in whichevery twig scintillated with the frost lavished by the river's vapor. She never noticed the great circular pool with its deep banks, or thewonderful view, far across country, of mountains washed in pale bluesand lavenders, of the sun-flooded bright expanse of open ground, partly fenced in with axe-hewn rails. She could only stare at a littleshack, the smallest she had seen in that country, and at the thread ofsmoke coming from the length of stove-pipe protruding from theice-covered roof, and to her it looked like the home of misery. 

A few yards farther on the team stopped. From here the hut could onlybe faintly distinguished through a growth of birches and firs. 

"You can get off de toboggan now, leddy, " Stefan told her. "I puts offyour trunk too. Hugo he come and get it. I call to him. "

She rose to her feet, speechless, amazed, with fear causing a terriblethrobbing in her throat. She would have protested but could not findher voice. As soon as Stefan had unlashed the trunk and put it down onthe frozen ground he turned his team around. 

"Oh! Hugo!" he bellowed. "Oh! Hugo! Here's de leddy. "

For an instant there was no reply, but while Stefan yelled again shesaw, through a small opening in the interlaced branches, that the dooropened. A huge dog came out and rolled in the snow, barking. The manwaved a hand. 

"I can't vait a moment. Good-by, leddy, I must go. You tell Hugo why Ihurry so. "

The man had jumped on the toboggan and he was already being borneaway, swiftly, by his team of wild shaggy brutes that seemed never tohave known a weary moment in their lives. And she stood there, at thefoot of a great blasted pine, terror-stricken, wondering what furthertorture of mind and body the world had in store for her. 

But for that hut the place was a frozen desert, with no other sign ofman. And she was alone--alone with him--and the fierce-looking dog wasnow running towards her. She leaned back against the tree, feelingthat without some support she must collapse at its foot. 

CHAPTER V

When Gunpowder Speaks

Hugo Ennis, a man well under thirty, tall and spare of form, with thelithe and active limbs that are capable of hard and prolonged action, had stood for a time by the tough door of his little shack. It was asingle-roomed affair, quite large enough for a lone man, which he hadcarefully built of peeled logs. Within it there was a bunk fixedagainst the wall, upon which his heavy blankets had been folded in aneat pile, for he was a man of some order. Near the other end therewas a stove, a good one that could keep the place warm and amplysufficed for his simple cookery. The table was of axe-hewn cedarplanks and the two chairs had been rustically designed of the samematerial. Between the logs forming the walls the spaces had beenchinked with moss, covered with blue clay taken from the river-bank, above the falls. Strong pegs had been driven into the heavy wood andfrom them hung traps and a couple of guns, with spare snowshoes andodd pieces of apparel. In a corner of the room there were steelhand-drills, heavy hammers, a pick and a shovel. Against the walls hehad built strong shelves that held perhaps a score of books and avaried assortment of groceries. More of these latter articles had beenplaced on a swinging board hung from the roof, out of reach ofthieving rodents. 

He had been looking down, over the great rocky ledge at one side ofhis shack, into the big pool of the Roaring River, which at this timewas but a wild jam of huge slabs of ice insecurely soldered togetherby snow and the spray from the falls. Beneath that jumbled mass heknew that the water was straining and groaning and swirling until itfound under the thick ice the outlet that would lead it towards thebig lake to the eastward. Although the middle of March was at handthere was not the slightest sign of any breaking up. He knew that itwould take a long time yet before the snows began to melt, the ice tobecome thinner on the lakes and the waters to rise, brown and turbidwith the earth torn from the banks and the sand ever ground up in therough play of turbulent waters with rolling boulders. 

Yet the coming of spring was not so very far off now and the days weregrowing longer. It would take but a few weeks before the first greatwedges of flying geese would pass high above him in their journey tothe shallows of the Hudson's Bay, where they nested in myriads. Andthen other birds would follow until the smallest arrived, chirpingwith the joy of the slumbering earth's awakening. 

It was a glorious country, he truly believed. The winter had been longbut the hunting and trapping had kept him busy enough. The days hadseemed too short to become dreary and he had slept long during thenights, seldom awakening at the rumblings of the maddened pent-upwaters or the sharp explosions of great trees cracking in the fiercecold. But he was glad of the prospect of renewed hard work upon hisclaim, of promising toil to expose further the great silver-bearingveins of calcite that wound their way through the harder rock. He knewthat his find was of the sort that had flooded the Nipissing and theGowganda countries with eager searchers and delvers, and createdvillages and even towns in a wilderness where formerly the moosewandered in the great hardwood swamps and the deer were often chasedby ravening packs of baying wolves. 

His attention had reverted to the great sharp-muzzled dog that hadbeen crouching at his feet, and he bent down and began to pull outsmall porcupine quills that had become fastened in the animal's noseand lips. 

"Maybe some day you'll learn enough to let those varmints alone, Maigan, old boy, " he said, having become accustomed to longconversations with his companion. "I expect you're pretty nearly assilly as a man. Experience teaches you mighty little. Dogs and menhave been stung since the beginning of the world, I expect, and keepon making the same old mistakes. Hold hard, old fellow! I know ithurts like the deuce but these things have just got to come out. "

Maigan is the name of the wolf, in some of the Indian dialects, andHugo's friend seemed but little removed from a wolfish ancestry. Heevidently did his best to bear the punishment bravely, for he neverwhimpered. At times, however, he sought hard to pull his muzzle away. Finally, to his great relief, the last serrated quill was pulled outand he jumped up, placing his paws on the man's shoulders, perhaps toshow he held no grudge. After his master had petted him, an excitablered squirrel required his immediate attention and, as usual, led himto a fruitless chase. He returned soon, scratching at the boards, andhis master let him in and closed the door. A moment later the animal'ssharp ears pricked up; the wiry hair on his back rose and he uttered alow growl. 

"Keep still, Maigan!" ordered his master. "Wonder who's coming? Maybeone of Papineau's young ones. "

The fire was getting low and he put a couple of sticks of yellow birchin the stove. A few seconds later he heard a shout that came frombehind the saplings which, in some places, concealed the old tote-roadfrom his view. No one but Big Stefan could bellow out so powerfully, to be sure. He opened the door and Maigan leaped out. In moreleisurely fashion he followed and stopped, in astonishment, as hecaught sight of the dog-team flying back towards Carcajou. 

"That's a queer start!" he commented. "First time I ever knew him notto stop for a cup of tea and a talk. "

He thought he saw something like a black box through the branches andwent up. It must be something Stefan had left for him. He walked upthe path in leisurely fashion. There was evidently no hurry. He wasfeeling a little disappointment, for he had become fond of Stefanduring his long prospecting trip and would have been glad of a chat tothe invariable accompaniment of the hospitable tea-kettle. He had justmade some pretty good biscuits, too. It was a pity the Swede wouldn'tshare them with him. He reached the black box which, to his surprise, turned out to be a small corded trunk lying on the hard dry snow, witha cheap leather bag on top of it. He looked about him in wonder andstopped, suddenly, staring in astonishment at the form of a woman, shapeless in great ill-fitting garments too big for her. She wasleaning back against the great bare trunk of the old blasted pine andthe dog was skulking around her, curiously. Then he hurried towardsher, calling out a word of warning to Maigan, who seemed to realizethat this was no enemy. And as he came the woman, deathly pale, seemedto look upon him as if he had been some terrifying ghost. She put outher hands, just a little, as if seeking to protect herself from him. 

"Are--are you Hugo Ennis?" she faltered. 

"That's my name, " he said. "Every one knows me around here. What--whatcan I do for you?"

"My--my name is Madge Nelson, " she Stammered. "I--I'm Madge Nelsonfrom--from New York. "

"How do you do, Miss Nelson?" he said, quietly, touching his fur cap. "You--I'm afraid you've had a mighty cold ride. What's happened toStefan to make him go back? Lost something on the road, has he?"

"I--I'm afraid I'm the only lost thing around here, " she said, seekingto hold back the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. "Oh! I think--I think I'm becoming mad!" she suddenly cried out, bitterly. "Is--is that your--your house, the--the residence you spokeof?"

"The--the residence!" he repeated. "And I spoke of it, did I? Well, Isuppose that anything with a roof on it is a residence, if you come tothat. Yes, that's it, the little shack among the birches, and you'dbetter come in till Stefan gets back, for it's mighty cold hereand--and if you're from New York you're not used to this sort ofthing. It's the best I can offer you, but I really never thought itworth talking about. It's the slight improvement on a dog-kennel thatwe folks have to be contented with, in these parts. Come right in; youlook half frozen. "

"And--and that is the sort of place you've brought me to?" she cried, her eyes now flashing at him in anger. 

"Well, it seems to me that it's Stefan that brought you, " he replied, rather abashed. 

"That--that's only a mean quibble, " she retorted, hotly. "And--andwhere's the town--or the village--and the other people, the friendswho were to greet me?"

The young man was beginning to feel rather provoked at her questions. 

"The nearest settlers are a short mile away, --the Papineaus, verydecent French Canadians. Tom Carew's shack you must have passed onyour way here. The only village, of course, is Carcajou, and that'stwelve long miles away. But Mrs. Papineau is a real good old soul, ifthat's where you expect to stop. A dozen kids about the place butthey're jolly little beggars. Her husband's trapping now, I believe, but of course I'll take you up there. "

At this she seemed to feel somewhat relieved. It was evident that shewas in no great peril. Yet she looked again at his shack, with herlower lip in the bite of her teeth. 

"You--you didn't really believe I'd come, " she said, her mouthquivering. "You--you were just making fun of me, I see, with--withthat residence and--and the ladies who were ready to welcome me. Whereare they?"

Ennis was scratching his head, or the cap over it, as he stared againat her. He realized that some amazing, terrible mistake must have beenmade, as he thought--or that this girl must be the victim of somedreadful misunderstanding, if not of a foul plot. He began to pityher. She looked so weak, so helpless, in spite of the anger she hadshown. 

"There--there are no ladies, " he said, lamely, "except Mrs. Papineauand Mrs. Carew. They're first-rate women, both of 'em. And of courseMrs. Papineau is your only resource till to-morrow, unless Stefan iscoming back for you. "

"He isn't, " she declared. "I said nothing about going back. "

"That's awkward, " he admitted. "You'll tell me all about this thinglater on, won't you, because I might be able to help you out. Butyou'll be all right for a while, anyway. I'll take you there. "

"Please start at once, " she cried, desperately. "I--I can't stay herefor another instant. "

"I can be ready in a very few minutes, " he told her, quietly. "Butwon't you please come over to the shack. I'm sure you're beginning tofeel the cold. You--you're shivering and--and I'm afraid you lookrather ill. "

She had insisted on Stefan's taking back some of the things she hadborrowed from his wife, and had been standing there in ratherinadequate clothing. Ennis pulled off his heavy mackinaw jacket. 

"You must put this on at once, " he told her, gently enough, "and comeright over there with me. "

Madge shrank from him, as if she feared to be touched by him, and yetthere was something in the frank way in which he addressed her, perhaps also in the clear and unembarrassed look of his eyes, that wasgradually allaying her fears and the fierce repulsion of the first fewmoments. Finally, chilled as she was to the very marrow of her bones, she consented to accept his offer and submitted to his helping her onwith the coat. 

"There's a good fire in the shack just now, " he told her. "It'sabsolutely necessary for you to get thoroughly warmed up before youstart off again. A cup of hot tea would do you a lot of good, too, after that long ride on Stefan's toboggan. It's no joke of anundertaking for a--a young lady who isn't used to such things. "

Madge was still hesitating. The suffering look that had come into hereyes moved the young man to greater pity for her. 

"I--I give you my word you have absolutely nothing to fear, " heassured her, whereupon she followed him meekly, feeling very faintnow. She half feared that she might have to clutch at his sleeve, ifher footsteps failed her, for she felt that at any moment she mightstagger and fall. She gasped again as she looked at the shack theywere nearing, but, as she beheld the scenery of the great pool, something in it that was very grand and beautiful appealed to her foran instant. Yet she felt crushed by it, as if she had been someinfinitesimal insect beside that stupendous crashing of waters, beforethe great ledges whose tops were hirsute with gnarled firs and twistedjack-pines. She stopped for a moment, perhaps owing to her weakness, or possibly because of awe at the majesty of the scene. 

"I just love it, " said the man. "It grows more utterly splendid everytime one looks at it. See that mass of rubbish on the top of thatgreat hemlock. It is the nest of a pair of ospreys. They come everyyear, I've been told. Last summer I saw them circling high up in theheavens, at times, and they would utter shrill cries as if they hadbeen the guardians of the falls and warned me off. But we had betterhurry in, Miss--Miss Nelson. "

For an instant she had listened, wondering. This man did not speaklike a common toiler of city or country. His manner, somewhat distant, in no way reminded her of the coarse familiarity she had often beensubjected to in shop and factory. But a moment later such thoughtspassed off and she followed him, resentfully, feeling that she was tosome extent forced to submit to his will. As Ennis pulled the dooropen and held it for her to walk in, he looked at her keenly. He hadsuddenly remembered hearing that exposure to intense cold hadsometimes actually disturbed the brains of people; that it had broughton some form of insanity. He wondered whether, perhaps, this had beenthe case with her? It was with greater concern and sympathy that hefelt he must treat her. The vagaries of her language, the reproachesshe seemed to think he deserved, were doubtless things she was notresponsible for. And then she looked so weary, so overcome, so readyto collapse with faintness!

Madge entered the shack. It had been swept, neatly enough, andeverything was arranged in orderly fashion, except some loose thingspiled up in one corner, out of the way. The little stove was glowing, and the draft was purring softly. The girl pulled off her mitts andheld her reddened hands to it while Hugo brought her one of his roughchairs. Then, without a word, he placed a kettle on the fire, afterwhich he brought out a white enameled cup and a small pan containingsome of his biscuits. After cogitating for a moment he also placed onthe table a tin of sardines. 

Madge had dropped upon the chair, and began to feel more unutterablyweary than ever. The heat, close to the stove, became too great forher and she moved her chair to the table, a couple of feet away, andplaced her arms upon it. Her head fell forward on them, and when, afew moments later, Hugo spoke to her and she lifted up her face he wasdismayed as he saw the tears that were running down her cheeks. Theman could only bite his lips. What consolation or comfort could heproffer? It was perhaps better to appear to take no notice of herdistress. But the weeping of genuine suffering and unhappiness is ahard thing for a youth to see. The impulse had come to him to cry outfor information, to beg her to explain, to question her, to get at thebottom of all this mystery. He was held from this by the renewedthought that her mind was probably affected. He might further irritateher or cause her still deeper chagrin. Even if he erred in this ideathe moment was probably ill-chosen. It would be better for her to tellher tale before others also. He would wait until after he had takenher over to Papineau's. She looked so harmless and weak that the ideathat she might prove dangerous never entered his head. 

The kettle began to sing and a moment later the water was boilinghard. 

"I can't offer you much of a meal, Miss Nelson, " he said, seeking tomake his voice as pleasant as possible. "You've probably never triedsour-dough biscuits. Mrs. Papineau's are better, but you may be ableto manage one or two of these. That good woman's a mighty good cook, as cooking goes in these parts. Here's a can of condensed milk; won'tyou help yourself? You must really try to eat something. Do you thinkyou could try a little cold corned beef? I have some canned stuffthat's not half bad. Or it would take but a moment to broil you apartridge I got yesterday. But I'll open these sardines first. "

He went to work with a large jack-knife, but she thanked him, briefly, in a low voice, and refused to accept anything but the tea and a bitof the biscuit. She wondered why he didn't also sit down to eat. Itbothered her to see him hovering over her like some sort of waiter. Hewas probably staring at her, when her head was turned, and enjoyinghis dastardly jest. When she thought of those letters she had receivedand of all they contained of lies, of unimaginable falsehoods, the manbegan again to repel her like some venomous reptile. She could haveshrieked out as he came near. What an actor he was! What control heheld over voice and face as he pretended to know nothing about her. His effort had been evident, from the very first instant they had met, to disclaim the slightest knowledge of her or of the reasons for hercoming! She felt utterly bewildered. He answered to that name of HugoEnnis and had admitted that this was Roaring River, as Stefan had alsotold her. Moreover, the big Swede knew perfectly well that she wascoming and expected. In word, in action, in every move of his, thisman was lying, stupidly, coarsely, with features indifferent orpretending concern. It was unbearable. 

She turned and looked at him again, swiftly but haggardly. She wouldnever have conceived the possibility of a man dissembling so, inletters first and lying again in every move and every tone of hisvoice. How could he keep it so tranquil and unmoved? Yet when he camenear her again, insisting on filling her cup once more, she seemed foran instant to forget the rough clothes, the mean little shack, thestrange conspiracy of which she was the victim and which had arousedher passionate protests. Over the first mouthfuls of hot tea she hadnearly choked, but she had found the warm brew welcome and its odorgrateful and pleasant. It mingled in some way with the scent of thebalsam boughs with which the bunk was covered and over which theblankets reposed. She had experienced something like this feeling inthe hospital, the first time she had been an inmate of it. It was asif again she had been very ill and awakened in an unfamiliar andbewildering place. The great weakness she experienced was somethinglike that which she had felt in the great ward, where the rows of bedsstretched before her and at either side. Some were screened, sheremembered, and held the poor creatures for whom there was no longerany hope. It was as if now a turn of her head could have revealed awhite-capped nurse moving silently, deftly bringing comfort. Her handshad become quite warm again; she passed one of them over her brow asif this motion might have dispelled some strange vision. 

The big dog, Maigan, came to her and laid his sharp head and pointedcold muzzle on her lap, and she stroked it, mechanically. This, at anyrate, was something genuine and friendly that had come to her. Againand again she passed her hand over the rough neck and head. At this, however, something within her broke again and her head fell once moreon her arms as she sobbed, --sobbed as if her heart would break. 

"I--I'm afraid you must have gone through a good deal of--ofunhappiness, " faltered the man, anxiously. "It--it's really too badand I'd give anything if I could. .. . "

But the girl lifted up her hand, as if to check his words. What righthad a man who was guilty of such conduct to begin proffering arepentance that was unavailing, nay, contemptible? Did he think that afew halting words could atone for his cruelty, could dispel the evilhe had wrought?

At this he kept silent again, during long minutes, appalled as menalways are at the first sight of a woman's tears. He felt utterlyhelpless to console or advise, and was becoming more and morebewildered at this interruption of his lonely and quiet life. Sinceshe didn't want him to speak he would hold his tongue. If she hadn'tlooked so dreadfully unhappy he would have deemed her an infernalnuisance and hurried her departure. But in this case how could afellow be brutal to a poor thing that wailed like a child, that seemedweaker than one and more in need of gentle care?

Soon she rose from the table, determinedly, with some of her energyrenewed by the food and hot drink. 

"If you please, let us go now, " she told him, firmly. 

"I'm entirely at your service, " he answered. "I think you had betterlet me lend you a cap. That thing you have on your head can hardlykeep your ears from freezing. I have a new one that's never been worn. Wait a moment. "

His search was soon rewarded. She had kept on but her inefficientlittle New York hat with its faded buds and wrinkled leaves and nowtried to remove it. Her hands trembled, however, and the strain oftravel had been hard. All at once, as she pulled away, her coiled hairescaped all restraint of pins and fell down upon her shoulders, in agreat waving chestnut mass. At this Hugo opened the door and ran out, returning a couple of minutes later with the bag that had been left onthe trunk. 

"I--I expect you need some of your things, " he ventured. 

She looked at him with some gratitude. Most men wouldn't have thoughtof it. Nodding her thanks she opened the thing and was compelled topull out various articles before she could get at her comb and brush. Her movements were still very nervous. It was embarrassing to be therebefore that man with one's hair all undone and awry. Something fellfrom her hand, striking the edge of the table and toppling to thefloor. There was a deafening explosion and the shack was full of thedense smoke of black powder. When Madge recovered from her terror theyoung man, looking very pale, had bent down and picked up the fallenweapon. For a moment she thought there was a strange look in hiseyes. 

"I--I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. 

"If--if you were to hit a man with that thing he'd get real mad, " hesaid, repeating an age-worn joke. "At any rate I'm glad you were nothurt. Rather unexpected, wasn't it? I really think you'd better let metake the other shells out. It's a nasty little cheap weapon and, Ishould judge, quite an unsafe bit of hardware for a lady to handle. Whoever gave you that thing ought to be spanked. But--but, then, ofcourse you didn't know it was loaded. "

"I--I did know it was loaded!" cried Madge. "I--I had the man load itfor me! I--I thought it might protect me from insult, perhaps, or--or let me take matters in my own hands, if need be. I--I didn'tknow what sort of place I would be coming to or--or what sort of manwould--would receive me! I--I felt safer with it!"

Maigan was still ferreting out corners of the room, having leaped upat the shot as if the idea had come to him that some rat or chipmunkmust lie dead somewhere. There nearly always was something to pick upwhen his master fired. 

"Keep still, boy!" ordered the latter. "I think we'd better count thatas a miss. I'll wait outside until you've fixed yourself up, MissNelson, and are ready to go. I'll have to hitch up Maigan first. Assoon as you come out I'll wrap you in my blankets; you'll be quitecomfortable. We haven't very far to go, anyway. "

"Thank you--it--it won't take me a minute, " she answered, withoutlooking at him. 

She had discovered in a corner of the shack a bit of looking-glass heused to shave by, and stood before it, never noticing that he made arather long job of drawing on his heavy fur coat. He went out with hisdog and got the sled ready, with a wry look upon his face. Then, asthere was nothing more to do, he sat down upon the rough bench thatstood near the door. He winced and made a grimace as his hand went upto his shoulder. 

"The little fool, " he told himself. "She seems to have been loaded forbear. Glad it was a thirty-two instead of a forty-five Colt. I didn'tthink it was anything, just a bad scratch, after the first sting ofit, but it feels like fire and brimstone now. It's an infernalnuisance. Good Lord! Suppose she'd plugged herself instead of me. Thatwould have been a fix for fair!"

This idea evidently horrified him. He had a vision of blood and tearsand screams, of having to rush off to Carcajou to telegraph for thenearest doctor. Perhaps people would even have suspected him. He sawMadge with her big dark-rimmed eyes and that perfectly wonderful hair, lying dead or dying on the floor of his shack. It was utterlygruesome, unspeakable, and a strong shiver passed over him. 

"But I wonder who the deuce she was going to shoot with that thing?"he finally asked himself. "Oh, she must be crazy, the poor littlething! It's really too bad!"

[Illustration: "I'm glad you were not hurt. Rather unexpected, wasn't it"]

He then thought of what a fool he had been to give her back thatgimcrack pistol. She probably had more shells. He must contrive to getthem away from her. There was no saying what an insane person mightdo. 

"I wish Stefan would turn up soon, " he cogitated. "I'd give a lot tofind out what he knows about her. It was mighty funny his neverstopping here for a minute. "

CHAPTER VI

Deeper in the Wilderness

Within the shack Madge was now ready to start. Hugo's big woolen capwas pulled down well over her ears and she again wore a coat much toolarge for her, a thing which, in other days long gone, might have madeher laugh. 

As she moved to the door she hesitated. Where was she going to? Whatobject was there in moving there or anywhere else? The wild dream thathad come upon her in the big city was dispelled and nothing on earthremained but the end that must come in some way or other. Of courseshe had no desire to remain in this shack, but neither had she anydesire for anything else. What was the use of anything she might do?By this time she was stranded high and dry among breakers innumerable, with never the slightest outlook towards safety. The few dollars inher pockets offered no possibility of return. This man might give herenough to get back, if she asked him. It was the least he could do. But she would rather have torn out her tongue than ask him for money. And it would only be going back to that dreadful city in which she hadsuffered so much. No, it was unthinkable! Better by far for her to liedown somewhere in that great forest and die. And now she was about tosee more strangers and remain over night in new surroundings. Wherewould she drift to after that?

She made a gesture of despair. Her down-hanging arms straightenedrigidly at her side, with the fists clenched as when one seeks to bebrave in the face of impending agony. Her head was thrown back and hereyes nearly closed. In that position she remained for a moment, herbrain whirling, her head on fire with a burning pain. Then the tensionrelaxed a little and she cast another look about her, without seeinganything, after which she pushed the door open and stepped out uponthe crunching snow. 

Hugo rose at once, albeit somewhat stiffly, and spoke to the dog whostood up, with head turned to watch the proceedings. 

"I don't think I'd better take the trunk on this trip, " he explained. "It would make a rather heavy load for just one dog. We'll take yourbag, of course, and I can bring the trunk over to-morrow morning. Itwill be perfectly safe there by the road. We haven't any thieves inthis country, that I know of. Now will you please sit down there, inthe middle. Maigan will pull you all right. I'll get the blankets. "

"But--couldn't I walk? You said it was only a mile. I--I think I couldmanage that, " ventured Madge, dully. 

"I don't think you could, " he answered. "I'm sure you're quite playedout. In some places the snow is bound to be soft. I could give you apair of snowshoes but you wouldn't know how to use them and they'dtire you to death. You've already had a pretty hard day, I know. Maigan won't mind it in the least. He'd take the trunk, too, readilyenough, but that would make slow going. "

She obeyed. What did she care? What difference could it make? Hewrapped the blankets over her, after she had sat down on an oldwolfskin he had covered the sled with. After this he took a long lineattached to the toboggan and passed it over his right shoulder, pulling at the side of the dog, who toiled on briskly. When theyreached the tote-road it seemed rougher than ever and the countrywilder. To her right Madge could see the river that was nothing but awinding jumble of snow-capped rocks and grinding ice, with here andthere patches of inky-looking water, where the ice-crust had splitasunder. Also she dully noted places where the water seemed to frothup over the surface, boiling in great suds from which rose, straightup in the still air, a cloud of heavy gray vapor. The cold felt evenmore intense than earlier in the day. It impressed the girl as if sometremendous force were bearing down mightily upon the world and holdingit in thrall. With the lowering of the sun the shadows had grownlonger. After a time the slight sound of the man's snowshoes over thecrackling snow, of the scraping toboggan, of the panting dog, began toseem to Madge like some sort of desecration of a stillness in whichman was nothing and only an eternal and vengeful power reignedsupreme. In spite of the patches of sunlight filtering down throughbranches or glaring upon the river there was now something dismal inall this, and she began to feel the cold again, penetrating, relentless, evil in its might. 

They had gone about half way when, on the top of a slight rise, bothdog and man stopped for a moment's rest. The latter looked quiteexhausted. His face was set hard, in an expression she could notfathom. 

"Really, I think I could walk, " said the girl again. "There--there'sno reason you should work so hard for me. And--and you look terriblytired. "

"Oh, no!" he disclaimed, hastily. "I--I could pull you all by myselfif--well, it's only a short distance away now, and Maigan is doingnearly all the work, anyway. I--I don't think anything I can do foryou can quite make up for all that you seem to have gone through. "

He looked at her, very gravely, as he sat down upon a fallen log, close at hand, after clearing off some snow with a sweep of his mitt. There was something very sad, she thought, an expression of pain uponhis face which she noted and which led her into a very natural error. She was compelled to consider these things as evidences of regret, ofa conscience that was beginning to irk him badly. Her head bent downtill she was staring into her lap; she felt that tears were once moredangerously near. 

No thought came to her of appealing to this man, of suing for pity andcharity, but she began to speak, the words coming from a full heartthat gave her pain were spoken in low tones, nearly as if she had beentalking to herself. 

"I--I'm thinking of the boys who were stoning the frog, " she began, haltingly. "You remember. It was fun for them but death to the frog. I--I think a good many things work that way in the world, don't--don'tyou, Mr. Ennis? You--you don't really look like--like a very bad man. If--if you had a sister or mother you'd--you'd probably be kind tothem. What--what do you think of it yourself, honestly? A--a girl, who's a fool, of course, but after all just a girl, is dying ofloneliness and misery in a big city. She--she can't stand it any more, not--not for another day. And then she finds that paper and like--likean utter fool she answers that advertisement. It--it looked like abare chance of--of being able to keep body and soul together, and--andremain honest and decent, which--which is a hard enough thing for agirl to do, in--in some places. And then the man answers back. She--Inever expected he would, but he did, and he offered all sorts ofwonderful things that--that looked like heaven itself to--to a hungryfailure of a girl to whom life had become too heavy a burden to bear. And--and so she answers that letter and--and tries to tell the truthabout herself, and says that--that she is prepared to carry out herpart of the bargain if--if the man has spoken truly of himself--if--ifhe can respect her--treat her like a woman who--who is ready to do herbest to--to deserve a little kindness and consideration. And he tellsher again to come--to come as soon as possible, and--and there wasnothing to detain her for a moment. The city had been too cruel--tooutterly cruel. And then she comes here and finds that--that it was alllies--wicked lies--I'm sorry, it's the only word I can use. "

Hugo was staring at her, open-mouthed, but before he could utter aword she began again:

"The man had never meant it, of course--he wasn't awaiting her at all, as he had promised--and when she finally comes to him he speakscoldly, cynically, denying his words, pretending he knows nothing. It--it's a rather clumsy way of getting out of it, seems to me. Anywayhe saw that his joke had been carried too far. It--it hasn't provedsuch a very good one, has it? It--it has turned out to be pretty poorfun. I--I dare say I deserve it all. It--it was awful folly on mypart, I see it now, and--and I'm ashamed, dreadfully ashamed--I feelthe redness mounting to--to the very roots of my hair--and itoverwhelms me. Don't--don't you feel something of--of the same sort, or--or do you still think the joke was a good one?"

She had grown rather excited and it was quite true that a deep blushwas now mantling her face. In her halting speech--in the words thathad come slowly at first, and then had flowed more rapidly, there hadbeen wounded pride beside the deep resentment and the pain. 

"Do--do you really believe such a thing?" answered the man, wincingagain. "You speak of something that is an abomination, that wouldstink in a decent man's nostrils. And--and you speak of shame! Do youthink such a word could express all that a man would be overwhelmedwith if he had done such a thing? Great Heavens! Miss Nelson, a manhaving once committed such a crime would be humiliated for the rest ofhis life, it seems to me. It would be an unpardonable sin for whichthere could be no forgiveness, none surely on the part of the woman, and none that the man could ever grant himself. It--it surely isn'tpossible that any such thing has occurred, that any man could so lowerhimself beneath all the dirt that his feet have ever trodden. "

He spoke strongly, his face now also high in color, his voicetremulous and indignant, his hard right fist clenched till the armvibrated with the strain. 

Madge looked at him again. For a moment his tone had been convincingand she had nearly believed that he spoke the truth. But the evidenceagainst him was too strong. 

"That--that big Stefan, your friend, the man who says that you savedhis life, knew that I was coming, " she faltered, her voice shakingwhile her body felt limp with the infinite discouragement that hadreturned to her in full. "He brought you my message, at least he toldme so. What--what is the use of my saying anything more? I--I think wemight as well be going on, if--if you and your dog are rested. He--helooks like a decent fellow, Maigan does. There are things a dogwouldn't do, I'm sure. "

"Miss Nelson, as God is my judge, I'm guiltless in this matter, " theman's voice rang out. 

"Go on, Maigan, mush on!" he called, and leaned forward on the rope, passed over one shoulder. Her last words had brought a moment of angerand indignation. Save for the few words he had uttered he felt ituseless to protest his innocence, and the notion of her insanityreturned to him, strongly. But those were strange things she had saidabout Stefan and that message. As soon as possible he would go over toCarcajou and interview his friend the Swede. The girl's disorderedmind must have distorted something that he said. He began to wonderwhether there was any truth at all about her story, whether she reallycame from New York, whether she was not some poor creature escapedfrom some place for the care of the insane. But then how had she gothold of his name and how had she ever heard of Roaring River? The morehe puzzled over these problems the more tangled they appeared to be. 

"I dare say I'll find out about it soon enough, " he told himself, impatiently, for the pain he suffered began to grow worse with everystep, and an unaccountable weariness had come over him. That thing onhis shoulder must be a mere scratch, he tried to persuade himself, inspite of the sharp pangs it gave him. Manlike he grew more obstinateas his strength began to fail, and pulled harder, with the sweat nowrunning down his clammy forehead and freezing on his face. 

Maigan, also, was bending hard to his task, and they went alongsteadily and rapidly. The toboggan was crackling and slitheringover the snow upon which the dark indigo shadows were throwinguncanny designs. The track was smooth and level now and the dog couldmanage very well alone, so that Hugo pulled no longer. Once, as hechanced to stumble, the girl thought she heard a groan from him. Shebegan to wish that she had been able to believe him, but it wasutterly impossible, although she suddenly found it in her heart topity him, to extenuate the abomination of his conduct. Why thatlast sacrilegious lie he had uttered? The man was suffering; itlooked as if the iron were entering his soul. Oh! the pity of it!If he had only acknowledged his offence and begged her pardon shemight perhaps have forgiven. A moment later, however, the grimoutlook before her presented itself again. There were two thingsfor her to choose from; one was that fitly named Roaring Riveralong whose bank the road wound its snaky trail and the otherconsisted in the cheap little pistol in her bag. Well, there mightbe comfort after all in this wild land, upon the scented fallenneedles of the pines or under that pure white ice. Her features, which for a moment had become stony and hard, now softened again. It was best to endeavor to harbor no more thoughts of contempt andhatred when one's own soul might soon be suing for forgiveness. 

They topped another rise of ground beyond which there was a hollow, atiny valley nestled among great firs and poplars and birches. In themiddle of it Madge saw another and much larger shack. It might reallyhave been called a house, but for its being made of logs. A film ofsmoke was rising straight up in the still air, from a chimney built ofrough stones, and some dogs began to bark loudly. A woman came out, with a child hanging to her skirts, and shaded her eyes with her handwhile she scolded the animals, who slunk away slowly. 

"_Bonjour_, " she called out, cheerfully. "Ah! It is Monsieur Hugo! Howyou do, sare? Glad for see you! Come along quick. It ees cole again, terrible cole. "

For a second she stared at the young woman on the toboggan, but hercivility came at once uppermost and she smiled pleasantly, and rushedup to help Madge arise, brushing off some of the snow that had fallenon her from the trees. 

"Come inside quick. I have it good hot in de house. You all perishedwid dat cole, Mees. Now you get varm again and I make tea _tout desuite_. "

She had seized Madge's hands in her own big and capable ones, with thenever-failing hospitality and friendliness of the wilderness, and ledher indoors at once. Hugo let Maigan loose, with a word of warning, for the other dogs had begun to circle about him jealously, andgrowled a little, probably for the sake of form, for they took goodcare to keep out of reach of his long fangs. They had tried him oncebefore and knew that he was their master. Hugo, thankful that thejourney was ended, took up the girl's bag and followed her into thehouse, after he had taken off his snowshoes, a job he accomplishedwith some difficulty. 

"Mrs. Papineau, " he began, "this young lady came over to my place, acouple of hours ago, and--and there's been some--some mistake. Shethought there was a village here, I believe. She only expects toremain with you till to-morrow, I think, and till then I will be everso grateful if you will make her as comfortable as possible. I'mafraid she's dreadfully tired and cold. I expect to return in themorning to take her back to Carcajou, unless--unless she would preferto rest a day or two here. "

"Ver 'appy to see de lady, " declared Mrs. Papineau, heartily. "Tak'off you coat, Monsieur Hugo, an' sit here by de fire. Hey! Baptiste, you bring more big piece of birch. Colette, put kettle on for bilewater qvick. Tak' dis seat, lady. I pull off dem blanket. You no needdem more. Turriple cole now. Las' night we 'ear de wolfs 'untin' alongdem 'ardwood ridges, back of de river; it ees always sign of big cole. And de river she crack awful, and de trees dey split like guns shoot. Glad you come an' get varm, Mees. "

Madge looked about her, after she had smiled at the woman in thanks. For the second time that day she had entered a home of kindly andwell-disposed people that seemed to be built of an altogetherdifferent clay from that which composed the folk of the big city. InStefan's home the atmosphere had been gentle, one of earnest, quiettoil, with the simple accompaniment of a kindly religious beliefaccording to the Lutheran persuasion. In the dwelling she had nowentered, of fervent French Canadians, she noted the vivid chromo of adeparted pope facing the still gaudier representation of the BritishRoyal family, if the printed legend could be believed. They were shownin all the colors of the rainbow, as were also some saints whoseglaring portraits hung on either side of the door, surmounted by driedpalms reminiscent of Easter festivals. There seemed to be any numberof children, from an infant lying in a homemade cradle of boards, oneof which displayed an advertisement of soap, to a bashful youth wholooked at Hugo as if he worshipped him and a freckled, gawky andfriendly-faced girl of fifteen who stood around, evidently delightedto see people and anxious to be civil to them. 

And this welcome she had received seemed to be characteristic of allthese folks living in the back of beyond. Everywhere she had metfriendliness; people had seemed actually eager to help; they smiled asif life had been a thing of joy in which the good things must bedistributed far and near and enjoyed by all. They seemed ready toshare their possessions with strangers that chanced within theirgates. It was a spirit intensely restful, consoling, bringing peace toone's heart. It gave the girl a brief vision of something that washeavenly. She felt that she could so easily have made her home in thisamazing region that opened its arms and actually welcomed new faces. But the thought came to her that she had only been vouchsafed afleeting glance at it and to gaze, as Moses did of old, upon aPromised Land she could never really enter. 

"It is no need for to h'ask, Monsieur Hugo, " Madge heard the womansaying. "Ve do h'all ve can, sure! It ees a gladness to see de yonglady an' heem pretty face, all red vid de cole. Come by de fire, mees. Celestine 'ere she pull aff your beeg Dutch stockin'. Dey no belongyou, sure. Colette, push heem chair near for de lady. Hippolyte, putcouple steeks now on ze fire. Mees, I 'ope you mak' yourself to homenow. Monsieur Hugo, you stop for to h'eat a bite vid us. Ve haf' in deshed still one big quarter from de _orignal_, de beeg mose vat my manhe shoot two veeks ago. Und dere pleanty _patates_, pleanty pork, allyou vant. "

"No, thank you ever so much, I--I think I'd better be going. It willbe dark pretty soon. I know perfectly well that you will takeexcellent care of Miss Nelson and so I think I'll say good-by now. "

Some of the children trooped around him, disappointed, and Mrs. Papineau came nearer, eying him curiously. Suddenly her keen eyescaught something and she pointed with a finger. 

"Vat de mattaire vid you h'arm?" she asked, excitedly. "'Ow you get'urted?"

"Oh! That! That's nothing, " he answered, drawing back. "'Tisn't worthbothering about. Good-night!"

"You no be one beeg fool, Monsieur Hugo!" she ordered him, masterfully. "Now you sit down an' let me look heem arm right avay quick. Ven decole strike heem he get bad sure, dat h'arm. "

In spite of his objections she laid violent hands on him, insisting onpulling off his coat, whereupon a dark patch had spread. She also drewoff the heavy sweater he wore underneath it, which was stained evenmore deeply. When she sought to roll up the sleeve of his flannelshirt it would not go up high enough, but the remedy was close athand, in the form of a pair of scissors, and she swiftly ripped up aseam. On the outer part of the shoulder she revealed a rather largeand jagged wound that was all smeared with blood, which still oozedfrom it slowly. 

"Who go an' shoot you?" she asked angrily. "I see de 'ole in de coatan' de sweater. I know some one shoot. Vat for he shoot?"

"Well, it was just a silly little accident with a pistol, " heacknowledged with much embarrassment. "It--it won't be anything afterit's washed off. It feels all right enough and I wish you wouldn'tbother about it. I'll attend to it after I get home. It--it's stoppedhurting now. "

But he was compelled to submit to the washing of his injury and to theapplication of some sort of a dressing which Mrs. Papineau appeared toput on rather skilfully. Wounds of all sorts are but too common in thewilderness, unfortunately, and doctors few and far between. Thechildren had crowded around him, looking in awe, and their mother keptordering them away. Madge had risen from her seat and looked at theinjury, horrified and trembling. The man had never said a word whenthat bullet had found its billet in his shoulder, and yet it must havehurt him dreadfully. He--he might have been killed, owing to herclumsiness, she reflected in consternation. And now he said nothing toexplain how it had happened--he actually seemed to be trying to shieldher. 

"I--I'm dreadfully sorry, " said the girl, impulsively. "It--it was allmy fault, because I let the revolver fall and it went off. But Ididn't know he was hurt. He never told me, and he insisted on pullingat that sled, with his dog. "

"Yes, it was just a little accident, " admitted Hugo, "and we're makingaltogether too much fuss about it. It really doesn't amount toanything, Miss Nelson, and it feels splendidly now. I'm ever so muchobliged to you, Mrs. Papineau. And so I'll say good-night. I hopeyou'll rest well, Miss Nelson. I'll be here in good time to-morrow, never fear. "

He shook hands with the housewife, who took care to wipe her own uponher apron in preparation for the ceremony. To the children he bade acomprehensive farewell, after which he turned again to Madge, advanceda step and then hesitated. He had doubtless meant to shake hands withher also but, at the last moment, probably feared a rebuff. At anyrate he nodded, bringing a smile to his features, and opened the doorinto the bitter cold. After he had put on his snowshoes again andhitched up Maigan to the toboggan he disappeared into the darkness. For an instant Madge listened, but she heard no sound. Everything wasstill outside, but for the rare crackings of ice and timber. Seekingher chair again she leaned forward now with her elbows resting on herknees and her face held in the hollow of her hands. At this time alittle child came to her and touched her arm. She looked at it. Thelittle girl had long straight black hair, great beady eyes and theprettiest mouth imaginable. The cheeks were like red apples. Shelifted the little thing to her knees and the child nestled against herbosom. Madge now looked at the woman, busily engaged with her few potsand pans, and a feeling of envy came to her, a longing for the sweetand kindly motherhood that was becoming a fierce craving for thatbeautiful peace which appeared to have become so firmly established inthese little houses of the frozen wilds. She had elsewhere seen loveof children, little ones petted and made much of, husbands coming hometo a cheery welcome, but it had not seemed the same. The women sooften seemed weary, pale, and worked beyond their strength. Most ofthem became querulous at times, apt to speak loudly of intolerablewrongs or of ill-doings of neighbors across the dark hallways. Here itlooked as if quiet order, cheerful obedience, willingness on the partof all, were ingrained in the people. Indeed, it was ever sodifferent. 

By this time the rough table was set and Mrs. Papineau deplored thefact that Hugo had not consented to remain. 

"Heem is 'urted more as vat he tink, " she confided to the girl. "To-morrow somebody go to de leetle shack an' fin' 'ow he is. One dogheem not much nurse, eh?"

These words made Madge feel uncomfortable. Once or twice the idea hadcome to her that such a man ought to be punished, that he should bemade to suffer, that he deserved anything that could make him realizehow heinous his conduct had been. But now she had a vague impressionthat she was sorry for him, that it was on her account that he hadrefused to stay and had gone out at once in the gathering darknessthat had come so swiftly. But in spite of these thoughts and of allthe emotions she had undergone Madge felt again the besetting pangs offierce hunger. The slices of moose-meat sizzling in the pan filled theplace with appetizing odor. The mother placed her brood at the longtable but helped her guest first, and plentifully. How these peopleate and expected others to eat! Never could they have heard of thescanty meals of working girls, of the cups of blue milk, of bittertea, or of the little rolls and bits of meat purchased at so-calleddelicatessen stores. The girl ate hungrily and the meal was soon over, but as soon as it was finished the terrible weariness came upon heragain and she was thankful to lie down upon a hard mattress of tickingfilled with the aromatic twigs of balsam fir, beneath heavy blanketsand a wonderful robe of hareskins. 

Before she could fall asleep, however, the experiences of her crowdedday passed weirdly before her eyes; yet her despair seemed to becontending with a strange feeling that was certainly not hope. It wasperhaps merely a weak acquiescence to conditions that her immensefatigue and wearied brain made her accept, dully, stupidly, since shehad lost all power of resistance. It was something like the enforcedpeace of a wounded thing that has just been able to crawl back intoits burrow and has found the rest its body craves for. 

In the midst of so large a family one could not aspire to the lonepossession of a bed. The little girl she had held in her lap had beenplaced beside her, not without many apologies from Mrs. Papineau. Inthe darkness she could feel the little warm body nestling against her, and hear the soft and regular breathing. It was comforting since itbrought a feeling that the little one protected her, in some strangeway, and was leading her in paths of darkness with a little warm handand a heart that was unafraid and confident of the morrow's shiningsun. Very soon there came a restless sleep which at first was filledwith uncanny visions, from which she awakened once or twice in fear. But at last came entire surcease from suffering as the brain that hadbeen overwrought ceased to toil. 

In the meanwhile Hugo had slowly made his way back to his shack. Ifhis arm hurt he had now little consciousness of it. The thing thatdisturbed him most was that girl's unshakable belief in his villainy. Was she really insane? He had had no opportunity to communicate thatthought to Mrs. Papineau. But then, after her arrival, she had seemedso absolutely rational in all that she had said and done that the ideahad, for the time being, passed away from his mind. And what if, atleast in part, she had spoken the truth? What if some amazingdistortion of reality had truly and honestly given her these beliefs, through evidence that must be all against him? The words she hadspoken before starting for the Papineaus', and the further onesuttered on the tote-road, while he rested, held a drama so poignantthat it struck a chill to his heart. She might, after all, have beenspeaking the truth as she had been misled into believing it! But thenthere must be some amazing conspiracy at work, some foul doings whoseobjects utterly escaped him and which left him staring at the littlelamp now burning on his table, as if it might perhaps have revealedsome key to the amazing problem. 

Was it possible that a weak and slender woman could actually becompelled to carry on a fight against hunger and illness, with never afriend on earth, until she was finally so beaten down to the groundthat her soul cried in agony for relief? According to her she hadseized upon the only resource open to her, in which there was but adim outlook towards safety. Then she had found herself the victim of ahellish jest, apparently, or of a conspiracy so base that one sickenedat the mere thought of it. There was no doubt that those big eyes ofthe suffering woman haunted the man, while the accents of her despairstill rang in his ears and distressed him. The expression of thecrucified had been on that pale face of hers, which had reddened sodeeply when a sense of shame had overwhelmed her. It was as if he hadbeheld a drowning woman and been utterly prevented from extending asaving hand to her. More strongly he began to feel that some one hadsurely sinned against that woman, and feelings of vengefulness, nonethe less bitter for all their vagueness, began to obsess him. 

Once, on his way back from Papineau's, Maigan had pressed close tohim, as if for safety. From the great hardwood ridges of his right hehad heard a long and familiar sound. It was the one the Frenchwomanhad mentioned, the fitful baying of wolves on the track of a deer. Picturing to himself the overtaking and pulling down of the victim, heshivered, hardened though he was to the unending tragedies of thewilderness, and hurried along faster, although he knew he stood in nodanger. 

When he had reached his shack by the Roaring River he had entered itand lighted the small lamp. It chanced to be the last match in hispocket that he used for the purpose. There was no need to open the bigpackage that stood on a shelf, since he remembered having left two orthree small boxes in his hunting bag. He went over to the corner wherehe had left it and bent over, somewhat painfully. As he lifted it fromthe floor he saw an envelope and picked it up. It was addressed tohim. Tearing it open he stared at the words "Starting this evening. Please have some one meet me. Madge Nelson. "

With clenched fist he struck the table a blow that startled Maigan, who barked, leaping up to his feet. 

"It's all right, boy, " said his master. "Men are pretty big fools, excepting when they're nothing but infernal cowards. I tell you, boy, some one will have to pay heavily for this. Good Lord! Who would havethought of such a thing? I--I think I must be getting crazy! Butno--she's over there at Papineau's, and some one wrote to her, andeverything she said was the plain truth, as she understood it. GreatHeavens! It's no wonder she looked at me as if I'd been the dirt underher feet. That thing's got to be straightened out, somehow, but firstI must see Stefan, of course. "

For a moment a wild idea came to him of going over to Carcajou in thedarkness. Such an undertaking was by no means particularly difficultfor a strong man, who knew the way, but suddenly he realized that hewas played out and would never reach his destination that night. Thisirked his soul, unbearably, until he had recourse to his old briarpipe. In spite of the fact that his arm was beginning to hurt himbadly he sat near the stove, where he had kindled a fire again, thinking hard. He was racking his brain to seek some motive that couldhave impelled any one he knew to play such a frightful joke. One afteranother he named every man he had ever known or even merely met inCarcajou and the surrounding, sparsely settled country. But they werenearly all friends of his, he knew, or at least had no reason to bearhim ill-will. There was one chap he had had quite a scrap with oneday, over a dog-fight in which the man had urged his animal first andthen kicked Maigan when he saw his brute having by far the worst ofit. But soon afterwards they had shaken hands and the matter had beenforgotten. Besides, the fellow was now working in Sudbury, far eastdown the line. No, that wasn't a trail worth following. The more hethought the matter over the more utterly mysterious it seemed tobecome. But of one thing he was determined. He was going to moveheaven and earth to get at the bottom of all this, and when he foundout who was responsible the fur would fly. 

It was perhaps fortunate for her that the idea of the red-headed girlin old McGurn's store never entered his head for a moment. She hadalways been friendly, perhaps even a little forward in her attentionsto him, though he had always paid her rather scant notice. He hadnever been more than decently civil to her. 

When he sought his bunk, an hour or two later, a long time elapsedbefore he could fall asleep. It seemed to him that his head throbbed agood deal, and that shoulder was growing mightily uncomfortable. Hehoped it would be better in the morning. Finally he fell asleep, restlessly. Upon the floor, stretched out upon an old deerskin closeto the stove, Maigan was sleeping more profoundly, though now and thenhe whined and sighed in his slumber, perhaps dreaming of hares andporcupines. A cricket ensconced beneath the flat stones under thestove began to chirp, shrilly. Outside a big-horned owl was hooting, dismally, while the big falls continued to roar out their eternalsong. And thus the long night wore out till a flaming crimson andcopper dawn came up, with flashing rays that stabbed the great rollingclouds while the trees kept on cracking in the intense frost and theice in the big pool churned and groaned under the torment of watersseeking to burst their shackles. 

CHAPTER VII

Carcajou Is Shocked

After Stefan had started away with Madge, Miss Sophy McGurn, who hadbeen on the watch, was delighted to see Mrs. Olsen coming to thestore. She greeted her customer more pleasantly than ever and servedher with a bag of beans, two spools of black thread and a pound of thebest oleo-butter. The older woman was nothing loath to talk, andconfirmed the girl's suspicion that Stefan had taken that young womanto Hugo's. Mrs. Olsen insisted on the fact that her visitor was a realpretty girl, though awfully thin and looking as if a breath would blowher over. She also commented on the lack of suitable clothing for suchdreadful weather, and on the utter ignorance Madge seemed to displayof anything connected with Carcajou or, in fact, any part of Ontario. When questioned, cautiously, she admitted that she knew no reasonwhatever for the girl's coming, but she hastened to assert that Stefanhad said it was all right, which settled the question, and, with herrather waddling gait, started off for her house again. 

As soon as Stefan returned Sophy saw that he still had a woman on histoboggan. She hurried to meet him and was grievously disappointed whenshe found out it was Mrs. Carew. But she boldly went up to Stefan. 

"Hello! Stefan!" she said. "Where did you leave your passenger of thismorning?"

"Hello! Sophy!" he answered, placidly. "I leaf de yong leddy vhere sheban going, I tank. "

"She isn't coming back to-night?"

"Mebbe yes, mebbe no, " he answered, grabbing Mrs. Carew's bag andhurrying with her into the station, for the engine's whistle announcedthat he had made the journey with little or no time to spare. 

Sophy made her way back to the store, meeting Mrs. Kilrea on her way. To this lady she confided that a young woman had gone up to HugoEnnis' shack and had not returned. Wasn't it queer? And Mrs. Olsen hadsaid that she wasn't Hugo's wife or sister. Wasn't it funny? But ofcourse she supposed it was all right. 

Mrs. Kilrea called on old Mrs. Follansbee, who told Mrs. McIntosh. This lady was a Cree Indian that had become more or less civilized. The white women would speak to her on account of her husband Aleck, who was really a very nice man. At any rate all the ladies of Carcajouwere soon aware of the unusual happening, scenting strange news andperhaps even a bit of scandal. 

Big Stefan, having urged his team to their utmost, now fed themcarefully and locked them up in his shed, a local habit providingagainst bloody fights that were objected to not so much on moralprinciple as because these contests often resulted in the disabling ofvaluable animals. It also prevented incursions among the few sheep ofthe neighborhood or long hunts in which dogs indulged by themselves, returning with sore feet and utterly unable to move for a day or two. The animals, before falling asleep, were biting off the cracklingicicles that had formed in the hair growing between their padded toes. The journey had not exhausted them in the slightest and on the morrowthey would be perfectly fit for further travel, if need be. 

Neither was Stefan weary. After supper he quietly strolled over to thestore where some of Carcajou's choicest spirits were gathered, sincethe village boasted no saloon. Here the news was discussed, as spreadout by the few who got a daily or weekly paper from Ottawa or Sudbury, or gathered in the immediate neighborhood by the local gossips. 

"Hello, Stefan!" exclaimed Miles Parker, who was supposed to watchover the sawmill and see that the machinery didn't suffer too muchduring the long period of disuse. "How did ye find the travelin'to-day? See ye didn't manage ter freeze them whiskers off'n yer face, did ye?"

"Dey're yoost vhere dey belongs, I tank, " answered Stefan, quietly. "Miss Sophy, if you haf time I take two plugs Lumberman's Joyterbacker. "

"Stefan he's so all-fired big he got to keep a chew on each side ofhis face, " explained Pat Kilrea, a first-rate mechanic who was thenbusy with the construction of a little steamer that was to help towdown to the mill some big booms of logs, as soon as the lake opened. "He ain't able to get no satisfaction except from double action. "

At this specimen of local wit and humor the others grinned but Stefanremained quite unmoved. Miss Sophy waited on him, scanning his face, eager to ask more questions, while she feared to say a word. It mayhave been her conscience which made her uneasy. Of course she believedthat the precautions she had taken rendered it impossible for any oneto accuse her, or at any rate to prove anything. Still, a certainanxiety remained, which she was unable to restrain. She would havegiven a good deal to know what had taken place. Never had she doubtedthat the scene would occur right there at the station in Carcajou. That telegram had badly upset her plans, apparently. And then it wasqueer that Hugo had not come down after receiving it, if only to tryto find out what it meant. Finally, one of the men, having none of herreasons for keeping still, came forth with a direct question. 

"I reckon you got out to Roarin' Falls all safe with that there pootygal, didn't ye?" he asked. 

It was Joe Follansbee who had sought this information, being only tooeager to hint at something wrong on the part of a man he had longdeemed a rival. At his words, however, Sophy sniffed and turned up hernose. 

"I didn't see anything very pretty about her, " she said. 

"Well, I didn't see as how she was so real awful pretty, " Joe hastenedto observe. "She ain't the style I admire, by no manner of means. "

This strategic withdrawal was destined to meet with entire failure, however. Sophy turned to the boxes of plug that were stored on theshelves and pretended to busy herself with their order and symmetry. But she was again listening, eagerly. 

"What d'ye say, Stefan?" joined Pat Kilrea. "How'd she stand the trip?Did ye see if her nose was still on her face when ye got there?"

"I tank so, " opened Stefan, gravely, "but it wouldn't matter so muchvith de leddy. Maybe she ain't so much use for it like you haf foryours, to stick into oder people's pusinesses. "

Stefan continued to shave off curly bits from his plug, while thelaughter turned against the engineer. Carcajou, like a good many otherplaces, commonly favored the top-dog when it came to betting. Theanswering grin in Pat's face was a rather sour one. If any other manhad spoken to him thus there might have been a lively fight, but noone in Carcajou, and a good many miles around it, cared to engage infisticuffs with the Swede. A story was current of how he had oncemanhandled four drunken lumberjacks, in spite of peavies and sticks ofcordwood. 

"Well, you're getting to be a good deal of a lady's man, Stefan, " saidAleck McIntosh, a fellow who was supposed to be a scion of Scottishnobility receiving remittances from his country. The most evident partof his income, however, appeared to be contributed by his Cree wife, who took in the little washing Carcajou indulged in and made thefinest moccasins in Ontario. "Going off with one and coming back withanother. I dare say you prefer carrying females to lugging the mailsaround. "

"Mebbe I likes it better but it's more hard on dem togs, " assertedStefan, judicially. 

"And--and ye left her at Hugo's shack, did ye?" ventured Pat again, whereat Stefan nodded in assent and lighted his pipe. 

"Did she say she was anyways related to him? His sister or somethinglike that?" persisted the engineer. 

"Well, I tank she say somethin' about bein' his grandmother, " retortedStefan, "but I can tell you something, Pat. If you vant so much knowall about it vhy you not put on your snowshoes an' tak' a run downthere. It ban a real nice little valk. "

As Pat Kilrea suffered from the handicap of having been born with aclub-foot, which didn't prevent him from being an excellent man withmachinery but made walking rather burdensome for him, the othersguffawed again while the Swede opened the door and walked off, thecrusted snow crackling under his big feet. 

"In course it's none of my business, like enough, " said Pat, virtuously, as he scratched a match on his trousers' leg, "but suchgoings on don't seem right, nohow. 'Tain't right an' proper, becauseit gives a bad example. I've knowed folks rid on a rail or even tarredand feathered for the like of that. "

Carcajou's sterling sense of propriety, as represented by half a dozenmale gossips, immediately agreed with him. The matter, they decided, should be looked into. 

"And--and what d'ye think about it, Miss Sophy?" asked Joe, desirousof opening conversation again with the young woman and redeeminghimself. 

"Things like that is beneath me to talk about, " she asserted, coldly. "And what's more, I don't care to hear about 'em. It--it's time ye gotback to the depot, Joe Follansbee and I'm goin' to close up anywaysand give ye all a chance to burn your own oil. "

At this delicate invitation to vacate the premises the men rose andtrooped out. Once outside, however, they felt compelled in spite ofthe bitter cold to comment a little further on the situation. 

Sophy McGurn put up the large iron bar that was used to secure thefront door, when the store was closed. Then she put some papers awayin the safe under the counter and went up to the family sitting room, where her mother was knitting and her father, with an open paper onhis lap and his spectacles pushed up over his forehead, was fastasleep in a big and highly varnished oaken rocker trimmed with scarletplush. 

"I'm goin' to bed, " she announced; "good-night. "

The old gentleman awoke with a start and the mother, looking over herglasses, bade her good-night and sweet dreams, according to along-established formula. 

"Don't know what's the matter with Sophy, she's that restless an'nervous, " said her mother. 

"She always was, fur's I know, " answered McGurn. "If she's gettin' thecomplaint worse she must be sickenin' for something. "

The subject of these remarks, once in her room, was in no hurry to woothe slumber she had expressed a desire for. In her mind anxiety wasbattling with anger and disappointment. Whether or not she reallyloved Ennis, or had turned to him merely because his general ways andappearance showed him to be a man of some breeding, with educationsuperior to the usual standard of Carcajou, such as she would havebeen glad to marry, at any rate her brow narrowed, her lips closedinto a thin straight line and her hands were clenched tight. What shehad done would probably utterly prevent any renewal of the friendshipshe had tried to establish, since Hugo would perhaps be run out of theplace. Moreover, that girl was really very pretty, in spite of whatshe had said downstairs, and this stranger was now over there. Sophyhad expected to see her return with Stefan, perhaps also with Hugo, and the girl's face would have shown marks of tears, and Hugo wouldhave been in a towering rage, and gradually the people of Carcajouwould have been made aware, somehow, of what had happened, and thesettler of Roaring Falls would be the butt of laughter, if not ofscurrilous remarks. But now the dark night had come and Carcajou wasvery still under the starlight. 

The old cat scratching at her door startled her. The profound silencethat followed appeared to irk her badly. After a long time there wasthe shriek of the night-freight's whistle and the great rumbling ofthe arriving train, the grinding of brakes, shouts that soundedharshly, various loud thumps as cars were shunted off to the siding. And then the train started again, groaning and clattering and heavingup the grade through the cut, after which the intense stillnessreturned and she lay awake, her eyes peering through darkness, hersenses all alert and her nerves a-quiver, until nearly the coming ofdawn. 

But the men who had gone out, before scattering to their homes, hadreached a unanimous conclusion. It was true that excitement was rarein Carcajou, but this was a matter of upholding the fair reputation ofthe mill and four or five dozen shacks and frame houses thatconstituted the village. It was decided that a committee must go overto the Falls and investigate. 

"I won't say but what Hugo Ennis he's been mostly all right, fur's weknow, " acknowledged Phil Prouty of the section gang. "But then hewarn't brought up in these here parts an' he can't be allowed to floutthe morals o' this community in any sich way. If it's like we fears, the gal'll have ter pack off an' him promise ter behave or leave thecountry. Them's my sentiments. We better go to-morrow. "

At this, however, there were some objections. It might be that on thenext day the young woman would return. Then their trip would beuseless. And then two days later would be Sunday, on which there wouldbe less interference with their occupations, especially as it was theoff day in church, where the services were held but twice a month. Itwas voted to start then at an early hour. There was a strong team ofhorses used to lumbering that could be trusted to manage the oldtote-road, drawing Sam Kerrigan's big sleigh. 

"Hosses used ter do it, " asserted the latter, "and they kin do itagain. "

"Maybe Stefan'd take you up with them dogs of his, Kilrea, " suggestedone of the men, grinning. 

"No! And by the way, byes. Ye don't want ter let that there Swede knownothin' of this. He's too thick with Hugo, he is, and we don't wanthim around raisin' any ruction if there happens to be a bit o' loudtalk. He'd be liable to raise a rumpus, he would. "

This appeared to be excellent strategy and it met with unanimousapproval. The men dispersed to their respective shacks and houses, todiscuss the matter further with their wives, in case any of them werestill awake. One or two of the sturdier ladies at once volunteered tolend further dignity to the proceedings with their presence and couldnot be dissuaded from joining the Carcajou Vigilantes. 

In the meanwhile the unconscious objects of all these plans werehappily unaware of the fate in store for them. Madge, with a littlechild that had snuggled into her arms, had found a forgetfulness thatwas a blessing. In spite of her weariness and of the emotions she hadundergone, the good food and pure air had produced some effect uponher. She slumbered perhaps more deeply and restfully than she had formany long months. And Hugo Ennis, in pain, tossed in his bunk, hismind racked with uneasy thoughts and his wounded shoulder throbbing, till he slept also. 

CHAPTER VIII

Doubts

It was with a violent start that Hugo awoke, feeling chilled to thebone in spite of his heavy blankets. His injured shoulder was so stiffthat for some minutes he was scarcely able to move it. He got out ofhis bunk, his whole frame shaking with the cold, and managed to kindlea fire in the stove. But presently he felt warm again, ratherunaccountably warm, in fact, and his face grew quite red. Curiouslyenough, for a man with the vast appetite of hard workers in coldregions, he did not at all feel inclined to eat. Yet he prepared somefood, according to custom, and sat before a tin pint dipper of stronghot tea. This he managed to swallow, with some approach to comfort, but when he tried to eat the first few mouthfuls satiated him and hepushed the remainder away. 

He had opened the door to let Maigan go out, and when the dog returnedafter a good roll in the snow Hugo swept his breakfast of rolled oatsand bread into a pan and fed it to his companion. 

"You're certainly not going hungry because my own grub doesn't tasteright, old boy, " he commented. 

Men of the wilderness learn to speak to their dogs, or even to thinkout aloud, when no living thing chances to be near. It answers to theinherited need of speech, to an instinct so long inbred in man that hemust needs, at times, hear the sound of a voice, even if it be but hisown, or go crazy. 

Maigan wagged his tail and gobbled up the food. When he saw his masterfastening on his snowshoes he barked loudly. Hugo allowed him to rompabout for a few minutes before hitching him up to the toboggan. 

A few minutes later they were on their way to Papineau's. An attemptto smoke his pipe was immediately abandoned by the young man. For somereason it tasted wretchedly. While the start was made at a good pacelittle more than a couple of hundred yards had been covered beforeHugo realized that he was going ever so slowly. Maigan was stoppingall the time and waiting for him. What on earth was the matter? Hejudged that the poor night's sleep had had some ill effect upon him. It couldn't be his shoulder. Certainly not! The pain in it was no morethan any chap could bear, even if he had to make a wry face over it attimes. He wondered whether anything he had eaten on the previous daycould have disagreed with him. He decided that it probably was somecanned meat he had bought at McGurn's. That explained the thing quitesatisfactorily to him. Anyway, it was bound to wear off soon. Suchthings always did. With this cheering thought he sought to lengthenhis stride again, but a moment later he was dragging himself along, dully, wondering what was the matter with him. 

He was anxious to see Madge again. He must tell her of the finding ofher message. Surely he would be able to talk to her, calmly andquietly, and to obtain from her all that she knew of this strangejumble of mysteries. He hoped that she had been able to rest, that hewould find her less weary and overwrought. This girl had been badlytreated, sinned against most grievously. If there was anything hecould do he would offer his services eagerly. 

"I expect she'll want to turn right back to Carcajou, " he toldhimself. "I wish I were feeling more fit for the journey. If Papineauis home from his trapping he will help me out. But I'll feel all rightsoon. This is bound to pass off. If I get too tired when I reachCarcajou, Stefan will put me up for the night. It--it seems a pitythat girl will have to go. "

He trudged along behind the toboggan. He could have ridden on it, mostof the way, but wanted to keep Maigan fresh for the trip to Carcajou, for the trunk would have to go also. The light sled was nothing forthe dog to pull, of course, and sometimes he dashed ahead so that hispace became too great for his master. Then he would stop and sit downin his traces, to wait until he was overtaken. The road wasunaccountably long, that morning, but at last they came in sight ofthe Papineau homestead and the cleared land upon which some crops ofoats and potatoes had already been raised, amid the short stumps ofthe half-cleared land. In summer the river ran very slowly at thisplace, and big trout were ever making rings on the surface which theybroke in their dashes after all sorts of flies and beetles. On theland opposite, where there had once been a forest fire, the red weedsthat follow conflagrations grew strong and rank in the summer time andlittle saplings sprouted up among the charred and wrecked trunks ofthe _brulé_. But at this time it all looked very bleak and desolate. 

"She couldn't ever have lived in such a country, " he told himself, with perhaps a tinge of regret. "Poor little thing, I wonder what's tobecome of her? The whole thing's a shame--a ghastly shame. Wait tillStefan and I find out all about it. Somebody's got to get hurt, that'sall!"

Maigan had already hauled the toboggan to the door of the big shack, and the other animals had come near to renew assurances of armedneutrality. The good woman of the house appeared just as Hugo came up. She must have been rather staggered by his appearance, for she drewback, staring at him and shaking her head in decided disapproval. 

"'Ow many mile you call heem to de depot at Carcajou, " she asked him, with hands on her hips and a severe look on her face. 

"Why, it's twelve miles to my shack and one more to this place, " heanswered, dully. "You know that just as well as I. Don't you rememberthe county surveyors told us so last year?"

"An' you tink you goin' pull dat toboggan all way back wid you h'armall bad an' you seek, lookin' lak' one ghosts! Excuse me, MonsieurHugo, but you one beeg fool. My man Papineau 'e come back from detraps to-morrow an' heem pull de young lady 'ome wid de dogs. You nofit to go. I tink you go to bed right now, bes' place for you, sure. "

She pulled him inside, holding on to his uninjured arm as if he hadbeen under arrest. She was a masterful woman, to be sure. Madge hadarisen from a chair and Mrs. Papineau addressed her. A glance at theman's countenance had left the girl appalled. His features were drawn, the brown tint of his face had changed to a characterless gray, hiseyes looked sunken and brighter, as if some fever brought a flame intothem. 

"Sure you no in h'awful beeg 'urry for to go 'ome, Mees?" asked thehostess. "Dis man heem real seek. Heem no fit for valk all vay back toCarcajou now. To-morrow my man take you. Papineau he no forgif me if Ilet Monsieur Hugo go aff an' heem so seek. "

"Why, of course! I'm not in any special hurry. To-morrow will do justas well. He--he mustn't think of going to-day and--and it doesn'tmatter in the least. It--it makes no difference at all. "

"Do you really think that you can manage to stay here for anotherday?" the young man asked her, as he dropped rather heavily on a benchby the table. "I don't think there 's really much the matter with me, really, and I'm sure I could manage it if you're anxious to get away. But perhaps to-morrow. .. . "

"Mrs. Papineau has been ever so kind to me, " answered the girl, slowly. "That sort of thing is such a comfort, especially when--whenone isn't used to it. Nobody ever took such care of me over there inNew York. I've had plenty to eat and a nice warm place to sleep in. Ihaven't been used to much luxury where--where I came from. And--andyou mustn't mind me. It will always be time enough to go, but--but Iwon't know how to thank this--this kindly woman. "

Hugo didn't know whether these words held a reproach to him, but theysounded very hopeless and sad. The girl had sat down again, on a lowstool near the fire. A chimney had been built in a corner, tosupplement the stove, and she was looking intently at the brightflames leaping up and the fat curling smoke that rose in littlepatches, as bits of white bark twisted and crackled. Mrs. Papineau hadgone back to the stove at the other end of the room, where she and hereldest girl had been washing dishes. In the rising sparks of the logson fire Madge saw queer designs, strange moving forms her eyesfollowed mechanically. She felt that she was merely waiting--waitingfor the worst that was yet to come, but the heat was grateful. 

"If that's the case we might as well postpone the trip for a day, "Hugo acknowledged, somewhat shamefacedly. "I don't often get playedout but for some reason I'm not quite up to the mark to-day. "

"You keep still an' rest yourself a bit, " Mrs. Papineau ordered, coming back to him and feeling his pulse gravely, whereat she made awry face. She informed him that he undoubtedly had a fever and mustremain absolutely quiet while she brewed him a decoction of potentherbs she had herself picked and stored away. 

Madge looked at Hugo again, anxiously, feeling that her carelesshandling of that little pistol was undoubtedly responsible for hisillness. Their eyes met and he managed to smile. 

"A mere man can do nothing but obey when a woman commands, MissNelson, " he declared, with a weak attempt at jocularity. "I'm sureit's dreadful stuff she's going to make me swallow. Still, I'm glad ofa short rest. "

He drew his chair a little nearer, and, speaking in a lower voice, went on:

"I'll tell you, Miss Nelson. We--we perhaps owe one another someexplanations. It happens that I've found something. It's the queerestthing ever happened. I'd like to explain. .. . "

"What is the use, Mr. Ennis?" she replied, her voice revealing anintense discouragement. "And besides, you are ill now. It--it doesn'treally matter what has happened, I suppose. I couldn't expect anythingelse, I dare say. I was a fool to come, to--to believe what I did. And--and I'm ashamed, it--it seems as if the least little pride thatwas left me has gone--gone for ever. Please--please don't say anythingmore. It distresses me and can't possibly do any good. "

She turned away from him to stare into the fire again and watch thelittle tongues of flame following threads of dry moss, till her face, which had colored for a moment, became pale again and her lipsquivered at the thoughts that had returned to her. Uppermost was thatfeeling of shame of which she had spoken. She had realized that shehad come to this man she had never met, ready to say: "Here I am, Madge Nelson, to whom you wrote in New York. If you really want me foryour wife I am willing. In exchange for food, for rest, for a littlepeace of mind I am ready to try to learn to love you, to respect andobey you, and I will be glad to work for you, to keep your home, to domy duty like a diligent and faithful wife. " But the man had looked ather with eyes genuinely surprised, because he had not really expectedher. And of course she had found no favor in his sight. She was aninconvenient stranger whom he did not know how to get rid of, and onthe spur of the moment he had found recourse in clumsy lies. By thistime he had probably thought out some fables with which he expected tosoothe her. At any rate he must despise her, in spite of the fact thathe seemed to try to be civil and even kind. The important thing wasthat the end had come. In her little purse six or seven dollars wereleft, not enough to take her even half the distance to New York, tothe great city she had learned to hate and fear. For nothing on earthwould she have accepted money from Hugo. At least that shred of prideremained. It was therefore evident that but one way, however dark, wasopen before her, since the end must come. 

But that unutterable weariness was still upon her. She was not pressedfor time, thank goodness. She had been given food in abundance andunwonted warmth and, for some hours, the wonderful sharp tingling airof the forest had driven the blood more swiftly through her veins. Moments had come during which it had seemed a blessing merely tobreathe and a marvelous gift to be free from pain. But she was not sovery strong yet. In another day, or perhaps two, she might feel betterable to take that last leap. It would be that river--the RoaringRiver. That--that little gun made horrid jagged wounds. On her way toPapineau's she had noticed any number of great air-holes in the ice. In such places she had even heard the rumbling of the water on itsrushing journey towards the sea. It seemed an easy, restful, desirableend to all her troubles. She would slip away by herself and these dearkindly people would never know, she hoped. Like so many others, shehad gambled and lost, and perhaps she deserved to lose. Who could say?If she had sinned in coming to this place she would bear thepunishment bravely. It would surely be very swift; there would be buta gasp or two from the stunning chill of the icy water, after whichmust come swift oblivion. The world was indeed a very harsh anddangerous place. She would be glad to leave it; there could be nothingto regret. 

She raised her eyes once more and looked about her. The heat from thebirchen logs and the sizzling jack-pine penetrated her. Somewhere shehad read or heard that, to those condemned, a few last comforts wereusually proffered. It would be easier to find the end after a few morehours of this blessed peace. It would have been more gruesome to meetit while suffering from hunger with the very marrow of one's bonesfreezing and one's teeth chattering. She was glad enough to sit stillon that rough stool. She did not want to be taken back, even to thatlittle village of Carcajou. The little children had made such goodfriends with her, and would have climbed all over her had their mothernot reproved them; the very dogs had come up and rubbed against her, and put their muzzles in her lap. Two of them were but half-grownpups. And best of all the big-hearted and full-bosomed mother of thefamily always spoke in words that were so friendly, even affectionate. It had been a wonderful vision of a better world from which she didnot want to awaken too soon. 

In the meanwhile Hugo had been compelled, not without a wry face, toswallow the bitter potion Mrs. Papineau had prepared for him. 

"I think I'll be going, " he remarked. 

"You rest one leetle time yet, " ordered the housewife. "You haf nodingfor to do. Feel better soon when you rest after de medicine. You no'urry. "

Perhaps nothing loath he had sat down again, with his chair tiltedback a little till the back rested on the table. Madge was sittingnearly in front of him, with her back slightly turned, and he couldsee the tightly pinned mass of the hair he had seen flooding hershoulders in his shack, and the comely curve of her neck as she leanedforward, staring into the fire. For a time this drove away the painthat was in his wounded arm and the hot, throbbing feeling ofdiscomfort that it gave him. What irked him was the realization of thetragedy brought to this girl somehow and the understanding of all thatshe must have suffered. 

Hugo had not always lived in the wilderness. He also had been of thetown during a period of his life, until the longing had come for thegreater freedom of the open spaces, of the regions which in theirgreatness bring forth the sturdier qualities of manhood. 

He was thinking of the scorn that had been in her voice when she hadtold him of the fierce impulse that had bidden her escape from thebondage of carking poverty and care. It had only resulted in bringingdisappointment and the shame, the outraged womanhood that had burnedupon her cheeks. And this appealed to him with an irresistible forcesince that effort on her part showed that she at least possessedcourage and the readiness to go far afield in search of an avenue ofescape. Weaker souls would long ago have given up the fight. 

He had just tried to begin an explanation and find the truth out fromher, but she had shaken her head and said it was useless. She did notunderstand; how could she? Yet he had been sorely disappointed. It hadscarcely been a rebuff on her part for she had spoken gently enough, in that low despairing voice of hers. He must wait another and betteroccasion and hope that he would be able to clear himself ofwrongdoing. 

At this time a man's practical nature suggested to him the thoughtthat she must be very poor--that she had perhaps expended her lastresources in coming to Carcajou. If this was the case, what would itavail for him to take her back to the railway? What would happen toher then? He could not allow her to depart without finding out howsuch matters stood, and he wondered in what manner he could make heraccept some money and how he could make amends to her for the injuryshe had sustained at some unknown individual's hands. But the more hepuzzled his brain the less he could discover any efficient way ofcoming to her assistance. She had said that every bit of pride hadbeen torn from her, but he knew that this was not altogether true. Theflashing of her eyes and the indignation of her voice had contradictedher words efficiently. She would probably resent his offer, refuse toaccept anything from him. Yet, if he managed to persuade her that hewas guiltless, it was possible. .. . 

But here his thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Papineau, who insistedon inspecting his wound again and made a wry face when she looked atit. 

"I beg you pardon for to tell de truth, Monsieur Hugo, " she said, "butI tink you one beeg fool man for come here to-day. I tink maybe youget bad seek wid dat h'arm. You stay 'ere to-day an' for de night. Imake you a bed in dis room on de floor, by Jacques an' Baptiste an'Pierre. My man Philippe 'e come to-morrow, maybe to-night, an' I sendheem to Carcajou so he telegraph to de _docteur_ for see you, eh?"

"You're awfully good, Mrs. Papineau, " answered the young man, with theobstinacy of his kind. "I'm perfectly sure I'll be all rightto-morrow, or the next day at the most. And I'll come back and see howMiss Nelson is getting on. I think I'll move now so I'll say good-by. I'm a lot better now. I suppose it's on account of that stuff you mademe drink; it was bad enough to be fine medicine. I hope the rest willdo you some good also, Miss Nelson. You're looking a lot better thanyesterday. "

Mrs. Papineau first thought of preventing his exit by main force butfelt compelled to let him have his way. She lacked the courage of herconvictions and allowed him to depart, with his dog running ahead withthe toboggan. She peered at him through one of the small panes and sawthat he was walking fairly easily. 

"Maybe heem be all right soon, " she confided hopefully to Madge, whileshe mixed dough in a pan. "But heem one beeg fool man all de same. "

"I--I can hardly believe that, " objected the girl. "Why do you thinkso?"

"All mans is beeg fools ven dey is 'urted or seek, my dear. Dey don'tknow nodings 'ow to tak' care for heemselves. Dey don't never hafsense dat vay. Alvays tink dey so strong noding happen, ever. But justsame Hugo Ennis one mighty fine man, I say dat sure. I rather de olecow die as anyting 'appen to heem. "

Without interrupting her work, and later as she toiled, at herwashtub, the good woman launched forth in lengthy praise of Hugo. Fromher conversation it appeared that he had helped one or two fellowswith small sums of money and good advice. In the autumn he had fishedout an Indian who had upset his boat while netting whitefish in roughweather, on the lake, and every one knew that Stefan's life had beensaved by him. At any rate the Swede said so, for Hugo never liked muchto speak of such things. And then he was a steady fellow, a hardworker, good at the traps and not afraid of work of any kind. And thenhe was friendly to everybody. Had Madge noticed how gentle he was withthe little children? That was always a sign of a good man. 

"Yes, mees, " she concluded. "Some time I tink heem de bes' man as everlif. Heem Hugo not even 'urt one dog, or anyting. "

So he wouldn't hurt even a dog! Madge repeated these words to herself. Then why had he played such a sorry joke on a woman who had neverinjured him? She wondered whether he would be sorry, afterwards, if--if he ever chanced to learn what had become of her--aftereverything was all over. It might be that he had just been a big fool, as the Canadian woman had called him, and never reflected on thepossible consequences of his action. But then he should have had themanhood to acknowledge his fault and beg her pardon, instead ofresorting at once to clumsy lies and pretending utter ignorance. Inmany ways such conduct seemed inconsistent with the man, now that shehad had further opportunity of seeing him. And then there was no doubtthat he looked very ill. She was really very sorry for her share inthat accident, and yet--and yet men had been shot dead for smalleroffenses than he had meted out to her. He might have been killed, ofcourse, and her quickened imagination caused her to see him stretchedstark upon the floor of that little cabin, on those rough boards thatsmelled of resiny things. And then people would have come and shewould have been accused of his murder, of course. It would have beenher weapon that had done it, and they would have found motive enoughfor the deed in the story she would have been compelled to relate. They wouldn't have believed in any accident. And then, instead ofbeing able to end everything in some air hole of Roaring River, shewould have been dragged to some jail to eke out her days in a prison, if she had not been hanged. 

The next day she awaited his coming somewhat anxiously. She felt thatshe must know how he was before--before taking that last step. Afterall he had tried to be considerate, except in the matter of thoseamazing lies. During the afternoon Mrs. Papineau, growing anxious, sent little Baptiste over to enquire after him. The small boyreturned, saying that he had seen two squirrels and a rabbit on thetote-road, and the track of a fox, and that he had found Hugo sittingby the fire. And Hugo had declared that he was all right and--andperhaps he wasn't pleased, because he spoke very shortly and had toldhim to hurry home. So Baptiste had left, and on his way he had seenpartridges sitting on a fir sapling, and if he'd had a gun, or evensome rocks. .. . 

But this circumstantial narrative was interrupted by the barking ofthe dogs. The sun was about setting. Madge looked out of the window, while Mrs. Papineau rushed to the door. It was a man arriving with atoboggan and two big dogs. 

"Dat my man Philippe coming, " announced the woman, happily. 

She held the door open, letting in a blast of cold air, and the manentered, tired with long tramping. From the toboggan he removed a loadof pelts, dead hares that would serve chiefly for bait, his blanketsand the indispensable axe. Mrs. Papineau volubly explained the guest'spresence and he greeted her kindly. 

"You frien' of Hugo Ennis, " he said. "Den you is velcome an' me gladfor see you, _mademoiselle_. "

He was a pleasant-faced, stocky and broad-limbed man of rather shortstature, and his manner was altogether kindly and pleasant. Thesimplicity and cordiality of his manner was entirely in keeping withthe ways of his family. It was curious that all the people she had metso far seemed to have come to an agreement in speaking well of Ennis. 

The man sat down, after the smallest of the children had swarmed allover him, and took off his Dutch stockings, waiting for the plenteousmeal and the hot tea his wife was preparing. Meanwhile, to lose notime, he began to skin a pine marten. 

"Plent' much good luck dis time, " he said, turning to Madge. "Five_vison_, vat you call mink, and a pair martens. Also one fox, jus'leetle young fox but pelt ver' nice. You want for see?"

She inspected the pelts and looked at the animals that were yetunskinned, realizing for the first time how men went off in the wildsfor days and weeks and months at a time, in bitterest weather, toprovide furs for fine ladies. 

The darkness had come and the big oil lamp was lighted. The childrenplayed about her for a time and gradually sought their couches inbunks and truckle-beds. The man was relating incidents of the trappingto his wife, who nodded understandingly. Beaver were getting plentifulalong the upper reaches of the Roaring; it was a pity that the lawprevented their killing for such a long time. He had seen tracks ofcaribou, that are scarce in that region; but they were very oldtracks, not worth following, since these animals are such greattravelers. 

During this conversation Madge would listen, at times, and turntowards the door. She had a vague idea that Ennis might come, sincethe boy's account had been somewhat reassuring. When she finally wentto bed behind an improvised screen in a corner of the big living-room, she was long unable to sleep, owing to obsessing thoughts thatwouldn't be banished. Over and over again she reminded herself of allthat had happened. It stood to reason that the man had written thoseletters; how could it be otherwise? The proofs in her hands were tooconclusive to permit her to pay any heed to his denials. The amazingthing was that when one looked at him it became harder and harder tobelieve him capable of such wrongdoing. 

As she tossed in her bed she began to be assailed with doubts. Theseworried her exceedingly. He had firmly asserted his innocence. Supposing that he was telling the truth, what then? In such a case, impossible as it seemed, she had accused him unjustly, and her conducttowards him had been unpardonable. And then she had refused to listento him, when he had sought to begin some sort of explanation. Whyshouldn't one believe a man with such frank and honest eyes, one whowouldn't harm even a dog and was loved and trusted by little children?Of course, it was quite unintentionally that she had wounded his body, but if he chanced to be innocent she had also wounded his feelings, deeply, in spite of which he had seemed sorry for her, and had beenvery kind. He had promised to come again to give her further help. Ifhe was guilty it was but a sorry attempt to make slight amends. If hewas not at fault, it showed that he was a mighty fine man. Madge feltthat she would rather believe in his innocence, in spite of the factthat if he could prove it she would be covered with confusion. 

"It seems to me that I ought to have given him that opportunity he wasseeking, " she told herself, rather miserably. 

Before she fell asleep she decided that on the morrow she would walkover to his shack if he did not turn up in the forenoon. He might bein want of care, in spite of what the small boy had said. If he wasall right she would sit down and question him. The letters she hadreceived were in her bag; she would show them to him. Now that shethought of it, the curious, ill-formed, hesitating character of thewriting seemed utterly out of keeping with the man's apparent nature. He ought to have written strongly and boldly, it seemed to her. Gradually she was becoming certain that his word of honor that he hadnever penned them, or caused some one else to do it for him, wouldsuffice to change the belief she had held. Yes--she would go there, even before noon. If she met him on the road they could as well speakout in the open air. And if she could be sure that she had beenmistaken in regard to him, she would beg his pardon, because he hadtried to be good to her, with little encouragement on her part. She--she didn't want him to think afterwards--when everything would beended, that she had been ungrateful and unjust. Of course, the greateffort had failed; nearly everything was ended now and there were nosteps that could be retraced. Someone had been very wicked and cruel, that was certain. But she didn't care who it was; it could make nodifference. She really hoped it was not Hugo Ennis. 

In the darkness her tense features relaxed and her body felt greaterease. Finally her eyes closed and she slept. 

CHAPTER IX

For the Good Name of Carcajou

The morning came clear and somewhat warmer. Beyond the serrated edgesof the woodlands covering far-away hills were masses of sunlit rollingclouds that seemed as if they were utterly immovable and piled up as abackground to the purpling beauty of the mountains. 

Madge awoke early. Outside the house the dogs were stirring, the twoyoung ones chasing one another over the snow and rolling over it whilethe others nosed about more sedately. She heard a ponderous yawn fromPapineau, on the other side of the slender partition, and a generalscurrying of small feet and the moving of washbasins. When she cameout Mrs. Papineau had already kindled the wood in the fireplace andwas stirring the hot embers in the stove. From without she heardsounds of lusty chopping. 

She wrapped a borrowed knitted scarf about her neck and put on Hugo'swoolen _tuque_, after which she stepped out. There was a wondrousbrilliancy over the world. On trees hung icicles that took on theappearance of gems. The cold air made her breathe so deeply that shefelt amazingly strong and well. The oldest boy's smiting with his axecame in thumps that awakened a little echo, coming from over therewhere the river narrowed down between high banks. It was verywonderful; it gave one a desire to live; it seemed a pity that onemust so soon say good-by to all this. It--it was perhaps better not tothink of that just now. 

She went indoors again. There were potatoes to be peeled and the girl, in spite of protests, took up a knife and went to work. It was such apleasure to do something to help. Indeed she had been idle too long, allowing these people to do everything for her while she croucheddisconsolately in warm corners. At present all the weariness andweakness seemed to have left her. It was just like a fresh beginninginstead of the ending of a life. It would have made her happy to thinkthat, somewhere in the world, providing it were away from the city, she might have found honest work to do in exchange for some of thiswonderful peace. If she could only have remained among these gentleand placid people and let her existence flow on, easily, without painand the constant worry for the morrow. It was like some marvelousdream from which she was compelled to awaken at once, for she realizedthat there was no place for her in this household. The older childrenwere already of the greatest assistance to their parents, and therewas no room for her in the crowded shack. She had caused these peoplesome inconvenience, which they had accepted cheerfully, it was true, but which she could not keep on inflicting on them. But for somehours--some blessed hours, she could play at being happy and pretendthat life was sweet. She could smile now, when these people spoke toher, and she hugged some of the little ones without apparent reason. 

"You stay 'ere some more day, " Mrs. Papineau told her, "an' den youlook lak' oder gal sure. Get fat an' lose de black roun' you h'eyes. You now a tousan' time better as ven you come, you bet. Dis a finecoontree, Canada, for peoples get strong an' hoongree an' work 'ardan' sleep good. "

"It's a perfectly beautiful and wonderful country, " cried the girl, enthusiastically. "I--I wish I could always live here. "

"You one so prettee gal, " commented the good woman. "Some day you fin'one good 'usban' an' marry an' h'always lif in dis coontree. Den youis happy and strong. Plenty mans in dis coontree want wife to 'elp an'mak' good 'ome. It one h'awful big lan'. "

Yes, there was any amount of room in this great country. And the womanwanted her to go and find a good husband! Well, she had come far toseek one. It--it had not been a pleasant experience. She saw herselfwandering about this wilderness looking for another man who would takeher to wife. Oh, the shame of it--the hot flashing of her cheeks whenshe thought of it! No, she was now looking on all this as a pauperlooks into the shop-front displaying the warm clothing that would keepthe bitter cold from him, or as starvelings of big cities, through thewindows of great restaurants and hostelries, stare upon the well-fedpeople sating themselves with an abundance of good cheer. She mustremain outside and now the end of it all was near. 

They had their breakfast, during which Mrs. Papineau said that she wasbecoming anxious about Hugo. Presently she would send one of thechildren again. Papineau wouldn't do because he knew nothing aboutsick people. She would go over there herself soon. If he was sick shewould bring him a loaf of bread. It would soon be ready to bake; thedough was still rising behind the stove. There might be other thingsto be attended to. Not more than an hour would elapse before she wasready to go. She remarked that men were a very helpless lot wheneverthey were ill, and became grumpy and took feminine tact to manage. 

The feeling of anxiety that had gradually come over the girl becamedeeper. If the man was ill, it was her fault. What had possessed herto spend some of her scant store of money in that dirty little shopfor a pistol? Of course, she realized that a vague feeling of dangerhad guided her--that the thing could be a means of defense or offer away to end her troubles. And it had only served to injure a man who, if he had sinned against her, manifested at any rate some desire totreat her kindly. 

But the thought that he might not be guilty returned to her, insistently. It was on her part a change of thought that was not dueto carefully reasoned considerations, to any deep study of conditions, for when she tried to argue the matter out she became involved in athousand contradictions and her head would begin to ache in dizzyfashion. Rather it was some sort of instinct, one of the conclusionsso often and quickly reached by the feminine mind and apt, in spite ofeverything, to prove accurate and reliable. 

"Mrs. Papineau, " she said, suddenly, "I think I will go over therenow. I--I have rested long enough and the fresh air will be good forme. I will come back very soon, I suppose, but if--if Mr. Ennis shouldbe ill you will find me there. "

Her proposal was assented to without the slightest objection. The goodwoman insisted on furnishing her with footwear better suited to thetote-road than the boots she wore. On the trail the snow would befairly well beaten down and there would be little need of snowshoes ifshe picked her way carefully. She could not lose her way. Still, itmight be as well for one of the children to go with her. People whowere not used to the woods sometimes strayed off a trail and got introuble. 

Under escort of the second oldest girl Madge started, briskly. She hadcovered but a short distance before she wondered that she felt sostrong and well. The plain substantial food she had eaten and thebright, stimulating air were filling her with a new life. She walkedalong quite fast, for she was now anxious to see this man again. Ifshe had been wrong she wanted to make amends. But what if he were veryill? She thought of the lonely little shack and the lack of anycomfort and care within it. He might be lying there helplessly, withonly a dog for a companion. At every turn of the little road shelooked ahead, keenly, thinking that perhaps she might meet him on hisway to the Papineau's. As she hurried on she felt that the house hadperhaps been too warm and it was splendid to be walking beneath thesnow-laden trees, to see the little clouds of her breath going outinto the frosty air and to hear the crackling of the clean snow underher feet. 

The child was walking sturdily at her side and told her of someChristmas presents Hugo had brought. It was evident that to thechildren of that family he was a very wonderful being, a sort of SantaClaus who had done his full duty and one to be forever after welcomedwith joyous shrieks. And father said he was a very good shot, andStefan Olsen, the big man, thought there was no one like him. And hecould sing songs and tell stories, wonderful stories. Madge, as shelistened to the girl, suddenly wondered whether it was not possiblethat the loneliness of such a life might not in some way havedisturbed the man's mind, at least temporarily. Wasn't it possible forone, in such a case, to do queer things and never remember anythingabout them afterwards? No one better than she knew what a terrible andmaddening thing loneliness was. She recollected distracting hoursspent in little hall-bedrooms while she tried to mend, after anexhausting day's work, the poor clothing that wore out so terriblysoon, and how at times she had felt that she must be becoming crazy. 

"But no! He couldn't have done it. He--he's a very quiet sensible man, I should think, and--and he wouldn't hurt even a dog, " she repeated toherself. 

They were journeying quite fast over the trail that snaked alongthrough the woods, bending here and there in order to avoid bouldersand stumps and fallen trees but always coming in sight of the frozenriver again. At times Madge trudged through rather deep snow. Also shestubbed her toes upon rocks and stumbled over branches broken off bythe great gales of winter. But it really wasn't very hard. And thechild kept on chattering about Monsieur Hugo and asking eagerquestions about the big city. Was it true that as far as one could seethere were houses standing right up against one another for miles andmiles, and that people swarmed in them as do the wild bees in hollowtrees? It was natural for bees to do such things, and for ants, andfor the minnows in shoals down in the river, but why did people haveto crowd in such a way? How could they breathe?

Finally they came in sight of the shack and the child gave a swiftglance. 

"No smoke, mees, " she said. "Heem go away, or mebbe heem seek. "

Madge hurried along faster for an instant, and then stopped short. What if neither of the child's conclusions was correct? If she wentover there and knocked at the door he might come out, looking rathersurprised. She had told him that she had come to Carcajou, looking foran unknown husband, for a man she was willing to accept under certainconditions, just because her life had become intolerable. He mightlift his brow and perhaps ask her quite civilly to come in. But whatwould he think? Would he imagine that she was running after him andtrying to compel him to marry her? It was not alone the frost thatbrought color to her cheeks now. No, it would never do. 

"I think I will wait here, " she told the little girl. "Will you pleasego and find out if Mr. Ennis is there, and whether he is all rightagain? I'll sit down on this log and wait till you come back. "

The child looked rather puzzled but she ran down the path that led tothe cabin. Madge saw her stopping in front of the door, at which sheknocked. She heard her call out and then wait, as if listening. Atonce came Maigan's voice. He was barking but the sound was not anangry one. Rather it sounded plaintively. Finally the girl pulled thedoor open, after fumbling at the latch, and the dog ran out, barkingagain and rolling in the snow. Then he sniffed the air and discoveredMadge, at once running towards her and pushing his muzzle in her hand. She stroked his head and he ran back, going but a few steps andturning around to see if she followed. She rose slowly, a sense offear coming over her, and hesitatingly went down the path also. Atthis moment the child came out, looking frightened, and hastened overto her. 

"Heem seek--very seek, " she cried, and Madge found herself runningnow, with her heart beating and her breath coming fast. The terrifyingidea came to her that perhaps he was dead. But as she entered theplace the man rose painfully on his bunk. His face was amazingly paleand his features drawn--hardly recognizable. 

"Sorry, must beg your pardon--I intended to come over, " he told her, hoarsely. "It--it's some silly sort of a fever. I--I'll be betterpretty soon. It's that blessed arm of mine, I think, and--and I'mfrightfully thirsty. If--if you'll ask the kid. .. . "

Madge peered about her, but there was no water in sight. Even if therehad been any she knew it would have frozen solid in the fireless shackwhose interior had struck a chill through her. She seized a pail. 

"Where does one get it?" she asked. "Or do you have to melt ice?"

"There's a spring. It's halfway down to the pool. Never quite freezesover. Let that girl go for it, Miss Nelson. Or--or I may go myself ina minute. Only waiting till--till my teeth stop chattering. Then I canlight--light the fire and--and make hot tea. It--it's such a stupidnuisance and--and I'm giving you a lot of bother. "

But Madge ran out of the shack and down to that spring, where theclear water seemed to be boiling out of the ground, since a littlecloud of steam rose from it. But it was just pure icy water and shefilled the pail and hurried back with it. When she returned the childwas efficiently engaged in making a fire in the little stove. The manhad sunk down on his bunk again and she went up to him. His teeth wereno longer chattering, but his cheekbones now bore patches of deep red. When she ventured to touch his hand, she found that it was burninghot. At this an awful, distressing, unreasoning fear came upon her. She--she had killed this man, for--for he certainly was going to die, she thought. Even in the big hospital she had never seen a face morestrongly stamped with the marks of impending death. It was frightful!

She gave him water which he drank greedily, calling for more. She hadto hold the cup, since his hand shook too badly. Dully, feelingstricken with a great desolation, she prepared some tea and gave it tohim. She had found some biscuits in a box but he refused to eatanything. Presently he was lying flat again on his bunk, with his eyesclosed, and when she spoke he made no answer. But he was breathing, she noted. Perhaps he had fallen asleep. It might do him a great dealof good, she thought. 

The child had thrown herself down on the floor, next to Maigan, whowas stretched out at length, enjoying the welcome heat of the stove. From time to time the animal lifted his head and looked towards hismaster anxiously. He knew that something was all wrong, but now thatthese other people had come everything would doubtless be made allright. 

For some time Madge kept still, sitting down on a stool she had drawnto the side of the bunk. She had the resigned patience innate in somany women, but presently she could stand it no longer. Something mustbe done at once. Valuable time was passing and no help was beingobtained. Things simply couldn't go on this way!

Rising again she called the child. 

"We must go and get a doctor at once, " she whispered, breathlessly. "I--I'm horribly afraid. Come outside with me. "

She caught the little girl's arm in her impatience, and took her out. 

"Your--your friend, Monsieur Hugo, is dreadfully ill, do youunderstand, child? I heard your mother say that one could telegraphfrom Carcajou for a doctor. We've got to do it! How long would it takeme to get there?"

The girl was evidently scared, but she looked at Madge with some ofthe practical sense of one versed with the difficulties of life in thewilds. 

"If you 'lone you never get dere. If Maigan work for you maybethree-four hour, " answered the child. "Heem go a leetle way den turnback for de shack. No leave master. "

There came upon Madge a dreadful feeling of helplessness. The manlooked terribly ill; she felt that he was probably going to die. Thisgreat wilderness suddenly grew as wicked in her eyes as that of thecity. Nay, it was even worse. She remembered how ill she had becomeand how she had struggled to fight off the sickness, in a little loneroom of a top floor. But as soon as people had come she had beenbundled away to the hospital. A wagon had come, with a doctor in awhite coat, and they had clattered off. The people in the hospital hadseemed interested, indifferent, friendly, according to their severaldispositions, but she had been taken care of, and fed, and washed, andsome of the nurses had sweet faces, after all, and after a time shehad recovered. All this had seemed rather terrible at the time, butwhat was it compared to this lying desperately ill in a freezing hut, too feeble to procure even the cup of water craved by a dry tongue andlips that were parched?

"I can surely walk that distance, " she cried, but the child shook herhead again. 

"You no good for walk far, " she asserted. "You jus' fall down dead. Twelve mile and snow deep some place. Moch cole as freeze you quickwhen tired. "

"Then what's to be done?" asked Madge, entering the house again, followed by the child. "I think I ought to try to get to Carcajou. "

"Please don't, " said the man, hoarsely, looking as if he had awakenedsuddenly, and lifting himself up on one elbow painfully. "I'll--I'llbe all right to-morrow, sure--surest thing you know, and--and I'lltake you down myself, with old--old Maigan. "

"Please hurry back to your house and tell your mother to come over assoon as she can, " Madge told the child. "Perhaps your father could go. I didn't think of it at first. "

"Now you spik' lak' you know someting, " said the girl, with refreshingfrankness. "I 'urry all right. Get modder quick. "

She started, her little legs flying over the snow, and Madge closedthe door again. 

She put a little more wood in the stove and sat down by the bunk. Theman's eyes were closed again. It was strange that he had heard her sodistinctly, and that he had gathered the impression that she wanted toget to Carcajou on her own account. And--and he had said he would takeher himself. Again his first thought had been to do something for her, to be of service to her. 

One of his hands was lying outside the blankets, and instinctivelyMadge placed her own upon it. She was frightened to feel how hot itwas. The pulse her fingers sought was beating wildly. She felt gladthat she was there. The man didn't care for her and she--well, shesupposed that she disliked him, but she wasn't going to let him diethere alone in a corner, like a wounded animal in some obscure denamong the rocks. For the moment her own troubles were pretty nearlyforgotten, for there was something for her to do. She had been but auseless by-product of humanity in the great melting pot of the worldand had proved incapable of rising above the dross and making even apoor place for herself. But this man was young and strong and able, bearing all the marks of one destined to be of use. He had lookedsplendid in his efficient and sturdy manhood and therefore there wassomething wrong, utterly wrong and against the course of nature in hisbeing about to be snuffed out before her very eyes, just because shehad dropped that abominable pistol. It--it just couldn't be!

She leaned forward again and looked upon his face, that was ashenunder the coating of tan. Once he opened his eyes and looked at her, but the lids closed down again and once more she became obsessed bythe idea that she might have been very unjust to him, that she hadperhaps insulted and wronged him. All at once the face she was lookingat became blurred, but it was because she saw it through a mist ofgathering tears. It had been easy, when she had bought that pistol, tothink of killing a man; now it seemed frightful, abominable, and theresentment she had felt against the man was turning against herself inspite of the fact that it had been an accident, just a miserableaccident. 

Long minutes, forty or fifty of them, went by as she waited andlistened. But presently Maigan, that had laid his head in her lap andwas looking at her pitifully, as if he had been begging her to helpthe man he loved, rose suddenly and dashed to the door, barking. Itproved to be Papineau and his wife, who was very breathless. 

The man came in, looked at Hugo and rushed out again. He took the timeto exchange his toboggan for Hugo's, which was lighter and to which hehitched his three powerful dogs. Madge went to him. 

"You'll hurry, won't you?" she cried. "I--I'm afraid, I'm horriblyafraid. Don't--don't come back without a doctor will you?"

"You bet de life, mees, I make dem dog 'urry plenty moch. Yes, ma'am, you bet!" he repeated, calmly, but looking at her with the strongsteely eyes that seemed peculiar to these men of the great North. 

He ran with his team up the path. When he reached the tote-road thegirl saw that he had jumped on the sled, which was tearing away to thesouthward. 

Within the shack Mrs. Papineau busied herself in many ways, placingthings in order and fussing about the stove, upon which she had placeda pot containing more herbs she had brought with her. Every fewminutes she interrupted her work in order to take another look atHugo. Once or twice Madge saw a big tear roll down her fat cheeks, which she swiftly wiped off with her sleeve. A little later shemanaged to make the man swallow some of her concoction. He appeared toobey unconsciously, but when she spoke to him he just babbledsomething which neither of the women understood. Finally theFrenchwoman sat down at the side of Madge, snuffling a little, andbegan to whisper. 

"Big strong man one day, " she commented, "an' dis day seek an' weaklak one leetle child. Eet is de way so strange of de Providence. Itlook lak de good Lord make one fine man, fines' Heem can make--a manas should get de love of vomans an' leetle children--an' den Heem makup his min' for to tak heem avay. An' Heem good Lord know why, but Itink I better pray. Maybe de good Lord Heem 'ear an' tink let heem lifa whiles yet, eh?"

And so the woman knelt down and repeated prayers, for the longesttime, speaking hurriedly the invocations she had all her life, knownby heart, and ending each one with the devout crossing of her breast. Then Madge, for the first time in a very long while, remembered wordsshe had so often heard in the little village church at home, whichpromised that whenever two or three were gathered together in the nameof the Lord, He would be among them. Yes, she had heard that assuranceoften in the place of worship she could now see so vividly, in whichthe open windows, on summer days, let in the droning of the bees andthe scent of honeysuckle outside. So she knelt beside the other womanand began to pray also, haltingly, in words that came well-nighunbidden because they were the call of a heart in sore travail whichhad long forgotten how to pray for itself. And it seemed as if thegreat Power above must surely be listening. 

Finally Mrs. Papineau rose. She was compelled to go back home and seethat the children were fed. She promised she would return in a shorttime. The doctor would certainly not come before night, perhaps noteven until early morning, for he would be compelled to make a journeyon the train. Papineau would wait for him, of course. As soon as hehad sent the message he would give the dogs a good feed and they wouldbe ready for the return. Then when the doctor turned up, Papineauwould rush him to Roaring River, and--and if the Lord was willing hemight be able to do something, providing. .. . 

But she had to interrupt herself to wipe away another big tear. Sheplaced a hand upon the girl's shoulder, seeking to encourage her alittle, and started off, her heavy footsteps crackling over the snow. Then silence came again, but for the hurried breathing of the sick manand the occasional sighs of Maigan, who refused food offered to him. 

Madge forced herself to eat a little, dimly realizing that for a timethere might be need of all her strength. After this she sat downagain, feeling crushed with the sense of her helplessness and with thethought of the terribly long hours that must elapse before the doctorcould arrive. 

Once Hugo seemed to awaken, as if from a sleep. The hand that had lainso still seemed to grope, searchingly, and she placed her own uponit. 

"Take you over--all right--to-morrow, " he said. "It--it's a pity, because--because you're so--so good and kind, now, " he muttered. "She--she thinks I--I'm the dirt under her feet. Ain't--ain't youthere, Stefan?"

His eyes searched the room for a moment. Then, with a look ofdisappointment, his head sagged down on the pillow again and he layquiet for a long time, till he began to mutter words that weredisconnected and meaningless to her. 

The noon hour came and went, with a glowing sun that shone brightlyover the snow and tinted the mist from the great falls with the colorsof the rainbow. But Madge did not see it, for within the little shackthe panes were dimmed by the frost. The stove crackled and spat, withthe sudden little explosions of wood fires. Close to it one felt verywarm but the heat did not extend far, since the cold seemed to beseeking ever to penetrate the room, making its way beneath the doorand through some of the chinked spaces between the logs. It affectedMadge now as a sort of enemy, this cold that seemed to be on the watchfor victims. It was one of the things that were always rising up inorder to crush struggling men and women. 

Another hour elapsed, that had been cruelly long, when Maigan suddenlyleaped up and stood before the door, with hair bristling all over himand standing like a ridge along his back. He scratched furiously andlooked back, as if demanding to be let out, and kept up a long, ominous growl that was very different from his usual bark. 

Madge went to the door, feeling very uneasy. She opened it, afterslipping her hand under Maigan's collar. Upon the tote-road she saw alarge sled that had been drawn by a pair of strong, shaggy horses, which a man was blanketing. From where she stood she heard confusedvoices of men and women, all of whom were strangers to her. Theyseemed to be consulting together. Finally they came down the pathtowards the shack, nine or ten of them, walking slowly and lookinggrim and unfriendly. Maigan was now barking fiercely and Madge had tostruggle with him to prevent his dashing out towards them. 

CHAPTER X

Stefan Runs

Philippe Papineau rode nearly all the way on the toboggan, sparing thedogs only in the hardest places on rising ground. The animals had beenwell-fed on the previous night and the trip around the trapping linehad not been a hard one. It represented but a mere fifty miles or so, over which they had only hauled one man's food in three days, with hisblankets and a small shelter-tent he used when forced to stop awayfrom one of the small huts he had built on the line. In fact, therehad been little need of three dogs, but Papineau had taken thembecause it kept up their training. In the pink of condition, therefore, the team bade fair to equal Stefan's best performances. 

The Frenchman was within sight of the smokestack rising fromCarcajou's sawmill when he opened his eyes, widely. A pair of horseswas coming along the old road, drawing a big sled. As the old lumbertrail was used only by dog-teams, as a rule, this surprised him. Amoment later he clucked at his dogs, which drew to one side, and thehorses, from whose shaggy bodies a cloud of steam was rising, cameabreast of him. The sled stopped. 

"Hello there, Papineau!" called one of the men. "Going in forprovisions? Thought you hauled in a barrel of flour last week. "

"Uh huh, " assented Philippe, non-committally. 

"Is that fellow Ennis over to his shack?" asked McIntosh, thesquaw-man. 

"Uh huh, " repeated the settler. 

"D'ye happen to know whether there's a--a young 'ooman there too?"

"Vat you vant wid dat gal?" asked Papineau this time. 

"We're just goin' visitin', like, " Pat Kilrea informed him. "It's surea fine day for a ride in the country. And so that there young 'ooman'sbeen up there a matter o' three-four days, ain't she?"

"I tink so, " assented Philippe. 

"D'ye know who she is?" asked Mrs. Kilrea, a severe looking andangular woman. 

"Sure, heem gal is friend o' Hugo, " answered the Frenchman, simply. "Mebbe you better no go to-day. Hugo heem seek. I got to 'urry, sogood-by. "

He lashed his dogs on again, while Pat cracked his whip and the partywent on. Mrs. Kilrea was looking rather horrified, thought SophyMcGurn. Her turn was coming at last. There would be a scene that wouldrepay her for her trouble, she gleefully decided. 

As they went on at a steady pace, over a road which none but horsesinured to lumbering could have followed without breaking a leg orgetting hopelessly stalled in deep snow, Philippe hurried over to thestation and got Joe Follansbee to send a telegram. The young man wouldhave given a good deal to have made one of the party but his officialduties detained him. 

"Who wants a doctor?" he asked, curiously. 

"Hugo, " answered Papineau, impatiently. "You don't h'ask so mochquestion, you fellar. Jus' telegraph quick now an' h'ask for answerven dat _docteur_ he come, you 'ear me?"

Joe looked at the Frenchman, intending to resent his sharp orders, butthought better of it. The small, square-built, wide-shouldered man wasnot one to be trifled with. He was known as a calm, cool sort of achap with little sense of humor, and the youth reflected that, in thisneck of the woods, it was best not to trifle with men who were apt toend a quarrel by fighting over an acre of ground and mauling oneanother until one or both parties were utterly unrecognizable, even totheir best friends. 

"Come back in about an hour and I expect I'll have an answer, " he toldthe Frenchman, quite meekly. 

The latter went into McGurn's store and purchased some tobacco and afew needed groceries. Suddenly he bethought himself of Stefan. 

"_Mon Dieu!_" he exclaimed. "Heem ought know right avay, sure. "

He drove his team around to Stefan's smithy but failed to find him. Atthe house Mrs. Olsen told him that her husband had gone out a half anhour ago. He would probably be at Olaf Jonson's, at the other end ofthe village. Thither drove Philippe and found his man. 

"'Ello, Stefan, want for see you right avay, " said the trapper. "Come'long!"

The Swede hastened to him. 

"Vat it iss, Philippe?" he asked, eyeing the dogs expertly. "Py delooks off tem togs I tink you ban in some hurry, no?"

"Uh huh! I come to telegraph for de _docteur_. Hugo heem 'urtedh'awful bad. Look lak' heem die, mebbe. "

Stefan bellowed out an oath and began running towards his house at atremendous gait. Papineau jumped on his toboggan and followed, onlycatching up after they had gone a couple of hundred yards. When theyreached Olsen's, the latter went in, shouted out the news and came outagain. With the help of Papineau he hitched up his own great team offive. 

"Tank you for lettin' me know, Papineau, " he said. "I get ofer dere sotam qvick you don't belief, I tank. So long!"

"'Old 'ard! 'Old 'ard!" shouted the Frenchman. "Vat for you tink PatKilrea an' McIntosh, an' Prouty an' Kerrigan and more, an' also vomansis goin' up dere to de Falls? Dey say go visitin'. Dey don't nevairego make visits before dat vay. An' dey h'ask me all 'bout de_demoiselle_, de gal vat is up dere, an' I see Mis' Kilrea an'Kerrigan's voman look one de oder in de face. Look mean lak' de devil, dem vomans! I dunno, but I tink dey up to no good, dem crowd. If I nohave to stay for _docteur_ I go right back qvick. D'ye tink dey vantter bodder Hugo, or de lady, Stefan?"

The latter swore again. 

"If dey bodder 'em I tvists all dere necks like chickens, I tank, " hecried, excitedly. "How long ago did they leave?"

"Vell, most a h'our, now, I tink, and dem's Kerrigan's horses, as isfive year olds an' stronk lak' de devil. Dey run good on de five-mileflat, dey do, sure, an' odder places vhere snow is pack nice. "

This time Stefan didn't answer. He shouted at his team, that startedon the run, but Zeb Foraker's St. Bernard, who could lick any dog inCarcajou singly, chanced to leap over the garden fence and come atthem. In a moment a half dozen dogs were piled up in a fight. Stefanstepped into the snarl. A moment later he had the biggest animal, thatwas supposed to weigh close to two hundred, by the tail. With awonderful heave he lifted it up and swung it over his master's fenceinto a leafless copper beach that graced the plot, whence the animalfell to the ground, looking dazed. It took several minutes tostraighten out the tangled traces and the leader was hopelessly lame. He had to be taken out and left at home. All the time Stefan'slanguage brought scared faces to the windows of neighboring shacks. Itwas a good thing, probably, that few people in Carcajou understoodSwedish. Still, from the sound of it they judged that it must besomething pretty bad. Finally he was off again, lacking the smartestanimal in his team. The others, however, probably considered that thiswas no occasion for further bad behavior and old Jennie, mother ofthree of the bunch, led it without making any serious mistakes. 

For the life of him Stefan couldn't conceive why anyone shouldwant to bother Hugo or the pretty lady. It was the very strangenessand mystery of the thing that aroused him. He never entertained theidea that Papineau was mistaken. The Frenchman was a fine smartfellow, one who loved Hugo, and a man not given to idle notions or toexaggeration. If he thought there was something wrong this must bethe case. 

On a long upgrade he ran at the side of his dogs, his great chestheaving at the tremendous effort. On the level he rode, urging theanimals on and keeping his eyes on the tracks of the horses andsleigh, while his strong stern face seemed immovably frozen into anexpression of grim determination. Anyone who touched his friend Hugowould have to reckon with him, indeed. The man was one of the fewbeings he cared for, like his wife or the young ones. Such afriendship was a possession, something he owned, a treasure he wouldnot be robbed of and was prepared to defend, as he would have defendedhis little hoard of money, the home he had built, with the berserkerfury of his ancestors. He was conscious of his might, conscious thatthere were few men on earth who could stand up against him in therough and tumble fighting current in the far wilderness. He knew thathe could go through such a crowd as was threatening his friend like adevastating cyclone through a cornfield. 

"If dey's qviet un' reasonable I don't 'urt nobotty but yoost tell 'emgit out of here, tarn qvick, " he projected. "But if dem mens is up toanything rough I hope dey says dere prayers alretty, because I yoostbust 'em all up, you bet. "

The team was pulling hard, the breaths coming out in swift littlepuffs from their nostrils. Sometimes they walked, with tongues hangingout, while again they trotted easily, or, down the hills, gallopedwith the long easy lope of their wolfish ancestors. And Stefancalculated the speed the horses could have made here, and again overthere. By the tracks he saw where they had trotted along good ground, or toiled more slowly over rough places. The man grinned when he cameto spots where they must have proceeded very slowly with the heavysleigh, and his brows corrugated when he saw that they had speeded upagain. 

"Dey drive tern horses fast, " he reflected. "Dey don't vant trafel disroad back in dark, sure ting, to break dere necks. Dey vant make qvickvork. But I ban goin' some, too, you bet. "

He was taking man's eternal pleasure in swift motion, yet the anxietyremained with him that he might not catch up with them before theyarrived. He knew that nothing could take place if he were there aminute before them. But if he was a minute late, what then? When thisidea recurred, his face would take on its grim expression, the lookwherewith Vikings once struck terror among their enemies. He hoped forthe sake of that crowd that he might not be late, as well as for thegood of his friend, for he would crush them, the men at any rate, andsend the women trudging home, wishing they had never been born. 

In him the two individualities that make up nearly every human beingswung and seesawed. The kind-hearted, helpful, considerate man kept onsurging upward, in the trust that his arrival would avert all trouble. Then this phase of his being would pass off and the great primalcreature would take its place and come uppermost, with lustful ideasof vengeance, visions in which everything was tinged with red, andthen his great voice would ring out in the still woods and the dogswould pull desperately, with never a pause, and the toboggan wouldslither and slide and groan, and the crunching snow seemed tocomplain, and the masses of snow suspended to great hemlocks and firsdropped down suddenly, with thuds that were like the echoes of greatsmiting clubs. 

When again he ran beside the dogs, in a long pull uphill, the sense ofpersonal effort comforted him. He was doing something. Once the toe ofone of his snowshoes caught in the snaky root of a big spruce and hefell ponderously, without a word, and picked himself up again. Dimlyhe was conscious that it had injured him a little, but he scarcelyfelt it. It was like some hurt received in the heat and passion ofbattle, that a man never really feels till the excitement has passed. His team had kept on, galloping fast, but he never called to them, knowing that harder ground would presently slow them. And he ran on, his great limbs appearing to possess the strength of machinery wroughtof steel and iron, while his enormous chest hoarsely drew in and castforth great clouds. But he was not working beyond his power, merelygetting the best he knew out of the thews that made him more efficientthan most men, when it came to the toil of the wilds. He knew betterthan to play himself out so that he would arrive exhausted and unableto contend with the whole of his might. He was conscious as he ranthat he would arrive nearly unbreathed and ready for any fray. Andafter he had swept off the intruders he would look upon the face ofhis friend, the man who for months had shared food with him, and thescented bedding of the woods, and the toil, and the downpours, and theclouds of black flies and mosquitoes, and who had always smiledthrough fair days and foul, and who, at the risk of his life, hadsaved him. 

And that friendship was so strong that it must help the sick man. Howcould one be ill with a friend near by who had so much strength togive away, such determination to make all things well, such fiercepower to contend with all inimical things? He would take him in hisarms and bid him be of good cheer and courage, and the man wouldrespond, would smile, would feel that strength being added to his own, so that he would soon be well again. 

All this might be deepest folly, and was not formulated as we havebeen compelled to put it down in these pages. Rather it was but asimple trust, a faith based on love and hope, a belief originating inthe mind of one of a nature so trusting and inclined to goodness thatuntil the last moment he would never believe in the victory of powersof evil. 

So Stefan caught up with his dogs again and stepped on the toboggan, without stopping them, and the great trunks of forest giants seemed toslip by him swiftly, while here and there, by dint of some formationof hillside or gorge, his ears grew conscious of the far-away roar ofthe great falls. From a little summit he saw the cloud of risingvapor, all of a mile away. At every turn he peered ahead, keenlydisappointed on each occasion, for the party was not in sight. So heurged the dogs faster. The big sleigh must surely be just ahead, beyond the next turn. 

"Oh, if dey touch one hair of de head of Hugo, den God pity dem!" hecried out. 

And the dogs ran on, more swiftly than ever, breathing easily still inspite of the nearly three hundred pounds of manhood they drew, and theroar of the falls became more distinct, while to the right, away downbelow, the river swirled under the groaning ice and sped past wildly, towards the east and the south, as if seeking to save itself from theembrace of the North. 

CHAPTER XI

A Visit Cut Short

Like the great majority of the denizens of the wilderness, Maigancould be a steadfast friend or a bitter enemy. He would readily havegiven his life for the one and torn the other asunder. Not being veryfar removed from a wolfish ancestry he was necessarily suspicious, intolerant at first of strangers and prepared to use his clean andcutting fangs at the shortest notice. But he was also more cautiousthan the dog of civilization and less apt to blurt his feelings rightout. After his first outburst he appeared to quiet down, growling buta very little, very low, and stood at the girl's side, watchful andready for immediate action. 

Madge stood on the wooden step that had been cleared of snow, in frontof the little door of rough planks. She watched the people coming inIndian file down the path that had been beaten down in the deep snow. For a moment she had thought that they might be bringing help, thatmiraculously a doctor had been found at once, that these people werefriends eager to help, to remove the sick man to Carcajou and thenceto some hospital further down the railway line. But such people wouldhave cried out inquiries. They would have come with some shout ofgreeting. But these newcomers came along without a word until theirleader was but a few yards away, when he stopped and looked at thegirl during a moment's silence. 

"Where's Hugo Ennis?" he finally asked, gruffly. 

"He is in the shack, " replied the girl, timidly. "He is dreadfully illand lying on his bunk. "

"What's the matter with him?"

"He was shot--shot by accident, and now I'm afraid that he is going todie. "

"Well, I'll go in and see. We'll all go in. We're mighty cold afterthat long ride. Stand aside!"

"I think you might go in, " the girl told him, still blocking the way, "but the others must not. I--I won't allow him to be disturbed. Don't--don't you understand me? I'm telling you that he's dying. I--Iwon't have him disturbed. And--and who are you? You don't look like afriend of his. What's your purpose in coming here?"

The first feeling of timidity that had seized her seemed to have lefther utterly. There remained to her but an instinct--a will to defendthe man, to protect him from unwarranted intrusion, and she spoke withauthority. But another of the visitors addressed her. 

"We're folks belongin' to these townships, " he said. "What we want toknow is who you are, and what right ye've got to order us about andsay who's goin' in and who's to keep out?"

Something in his words caused her cheeks to burn, but strangely enoughshe felt quite calm and strong in her innocence of any evil, and sheanswered quietly enough. 

"My name is Madge Nelson, if you want to know, and I am here at thismoment because I am taking care of Mr. Ennis. I feel responsible forhis welfare and will continue until he is better and able to speak forhimself, or--or until he is dead. I repeat that one of you may comein--but no more. "

It appeared that her manner impressed the men to some extent, if notthe three women who crowded behind. One of the visitors was scratchingthe back of his neck. 

"Look a-here, Aleck, I reckon that gal is talking sense, if Hugo'sreal bad like she says. We ain't got no call to butt in an' make himworse. I know when Mirandy was sick the Doc he told me ter take a clubif I had to, to keep folks out. Let Pat Kilrea go in if he wants toan' we'll stay outside an' wait. "

"Sure, that's right enough, " said old man Prouty. 

Pat advanced, but Maigan began to growl. 

"Say, young 'ooman, I'll bash that dog's head in if you don't keep himstill, " he said, truculently. "Keep a holt of him. "

Madge pulled the dog back and quieted him. 

"Be good, Maigan, " she said. "It's all right, old fellow. "

She entered the shack behind Pat Kilrea and closed the door. In doingthis she meant no offense to the others, who didn't mind, knowing thatwith a cold of some twenty below people don't care for an excess ofventilation. They stood, the men silently, the women putting theirheads together and whispering. 

"Ain't she the brazen sassy thing?" remarked Mrs. Kilrea. 

"Guess she ain't no better'n she should be, " opined Sophy, acidly, asshe watched the door keenly. 

Pat Kilrea went to the bunk and for an instant considered the sickman's face. Then he scratched his head again. 

"Hello, Hugo!" he finally called out. "What's the matter with ye?Ain't--ain't tryin' to hide behind a gal's skirts, are ye?"

His arm was seized from behind. The girl's eyes flashed at him. 

"I--I don't know who you are!" she exclaimed. "But if--if you say suchthings I'll turn that dog on you, so help me God!"

"I--I don't reckon as I meant it, " stammered Pat. "He--he does lookturriple sick, now me eyes is gettin' used to the light. Why, whydon't you speak, man?"

But the sufferer on the bunk made no answer save in some low fastwords that were disconnected and meaningless. Slowly, nearly tenderly, Pat touched a hand that felt burning hot and a forehead that was moistand clammy. Then he turned to the girl again. 

"Well, I must say I'm sorry, " he acknowledged. "Looks to me like hewas done for. What are ye goin' to do for him? We--we didn't reckon tofind nothin' like this when we come, though Papineau told us he weresick. "

"Mr. Papineau's errand was to telegraph for the doctor, " she replied, with a hand pressed to her bosom. "At--at first, when I heard youcoming, I thought he had perhaps arrived and--and that you wereintending to take him away. Do--do you really think he's going todie?"

"Well, I'm scared it looks a good deal that way. Of course we might beable to take him in the sleigh, but--but he don't look much as if hecould stand the trip--does he?--an'--an' I don't reckon we can do muchgood stayin' round here either. "

He stepped over to the door and opened it. 

"That gal's right, " he said. "Hugo looks desperate sick. "

"Sure it ain't nothin' that's ketchin', are ye?" asked his wife, drawing back a little. 

"I didn't never hear that pistol bullets was contagious, " heanswered. 

"But who did it?" cried McIntosh. "And--and how d'ye know 'twas justan accident. Seems to me we'd ought to find out something more aboutit. It--it don't sound just natural. "

"I tell you he was shot by accident. I did it, God forgive me, "faltered Madge. 

Sophy McGurn, at this, pushed her way forward until she stood in frontof Madge, and pointed an accusing finger at her. Her eyes wereflashing. To Maigan her move seemed a threatening one and she recoiledas the animal crouched a little, with fangs bare and lips slavering. 

"Hold him, miss, hold him quick!" cried Aleck Mclntosh. "Git backthere, Sophy, what's the matter with ye? D'ye want to be torn topieces? What's that ye was goin' to say?"

"She--she never shot him by accident! She--she did it on purpose, forrevenge, that's what she did, the she-devil!"

She was still standing before Madge and her voice was shaking withexcitement, while her arms and hands trembled with her passion. 

"What's all that?" cried Pat Kilrea. "Ye wasn't here to see, was ye?How d'ye know she done it a-purpose, for revenge? Ye must have somereason for sayin' such things. Out with 'em!"

But now Sophy was shrinking back, afraid of her own outburst, fearingthat she might have revealed something. Her voice shook again as shereplied. 

"I--I ain't got any reason, " she stammered. "I--I was just thinkingso. It--it came to me all of a sudden. Maybe I'm mistaken. "

"Mistaken, was it?" asked Pat Kilrea. "Folks ain't got any right to bemistaken when it comes to accusin' others of murder. If you hadn't hadsome reason to speak that way ye'd have kept yer mouth shut, I'mthinking. Why don't ye come right out with it?"

"I--I didn't really mean anything by it, " stammered Sophy again. 

"What revenge was that you was referring to?" he persisted. 

"Nothing--nothing at all. How should I know what she would do?"

"Then you ought to have kept still an' held yer tongue, " said Pat. 

"But it seems to me as if we'd ought to investigate this thing alittle, " ventured Prouty. "We ain't got anythin' here but this 'ereyoung 'ooman's word for what's happened. She can tell us how it cameabout, anyways, seems to me, and we can judge if it sounds sensibleand correct like. "

"That's right, " put in Kilrea. "That's fair and proper. "

"I am perfectly willing to tell you all I know about it, " assertedMadge, quietly. "I--I came here to see Mr. Ennis on a matterthat--that concerns us only. And I had occasion to open my bag. Amongthe things in it there was a revolver. It fell out of my hands andexploded, and--and the bullet struck him. I--I never knew that he hadbeen shot. He never even told me, and then he hitched the dog to thesleigh and took me over to Mrs. Papineau's, where I have been staying. And it was she who discovered that he had been injured. She'll tellyou so herself if you go to her. And--and he told her it was anaccident, as he would tell you now if--if he wasn't dying. "

"You'd fixed it up to spend the night at Papineau's?" asked Mrs. Kilrea, who had hitherto kept somewhat in the background. 

"That was the arrangement we had made, " answered the girl. "There wasno other place where I could stay. But I'd have gone up there alone ifI'd known how badly he was hurt. I've stayed with them ever since, ofcourse, for there was no one to take me back. Mr. Papineau hadn'treturned. He was trapping. "

"I don't see but what she must be tellin' the truth, " opined Mrs. Kilrea. "There ain't anything wrong or improper in all this, savin' agirl handlin' a revolver, which ain't wise. We can go over toPapineau's and make sure it's just as she says. "

"But there's one thing ain't clear, " said Pat Kilrea. "What businessdid she come on, anyways?"

Madge drew herself up and looked at him calmly. 

"I've already told you that this concerns Mr. Ennis and myself, " shetold him, "and I deny that you have any right. .. . "

Just then there was a roar from the tote-road as big Stefan, lashinghis dogs, bumped down the path at a wild gallop and, a minute later, threw himself off the sled and was among them. 

"How do, peoples?" he shouted, advancing truculently towards Pat andMclntosh. "Papineau telt me as how Hugo he get hurted bad and sick. And he say you peoples ask him whole lot qvestions about him. I vantto know vhat all you is doin' here, und--und if I ain't satisfied Itake some of you and--and vipe up de ground vid you, hear me!"

His manner was ominously calm, but his words sent a shiver through thecrowd. He was and looked a tremendous figure. He had moved to the sideof the girl, as if to defend her, and his clear blue eyes wentsearchingly from one man to the next. 

"Papineau he tells me in Carcajou it look like you come ofer here tomake drouble for Hugo an' mebbe for dis young leddy. So I come herefast like my togs can take me, sure ting. Und I vant to know vhen youvants to start droubles. Der leddies can move leetle vay to one sideif dey like, to make room. Ve need plenty, I tank. Who vant to startde row now, who begin? I tak' you vun at a time or altogedder, how youlike!"

He took a step forward and the men all moved back hurriedly. Theladies had swiftly accepted his advice and were retreating fast, nowand then looking back in terror. 

"But look here, Stefan, what are you butting in for?" Kilrea tookcourage to ask while he kept discreetly out of reach. "We came to seeif everything was all right and proper here. We're satisfied now andare going back. Got to hurry away, sun's getting low. "

The Swede sniffed at him contemptuously, and drew off a big mitt ofmuskrat hide. With some difficulty he drew from his clothing a hugesilver watch and looked at it. 

"Glad you vas in a hurry. I tank I 'elp you a bit make tings lifely. Igif you all yoost tree minutes ter get started. Den if any man heain't aboard dat sleigh I yoost vipes up de ground vit him a bit. Ifyou knows vhat is good for ye, den make tracks, qvick. I ban gettin'hurry mineself, eh!"

"But what right have you to be ordering us about?" shouted AleckMclntosh, imprudently. 

"My frient, you's knowed as de laziest man in Carcajou and some say inOntario. I helps you along, sure. "

He had dashed towards him with devastating speed. The fellow turned torun, but a second later the slack of some of his garments was inStefan's huge hand. Struggling and backing he found himself halflifted, half propelled on the ground, all the way to the sled. Therehe was lifted high and dumped in, like a bag of feed. 

"Any oders as need help?" roared Stefan. 

But they were hastening for all they were worth. Kilrea took thereins. The three women were already seated. The others jumped in andthe horses started home again, even before the Carcajou Vigilantes hadfinished spreading robes over their shaky knees. Striking a bit offlat bare rock, the runners spat out fire and squealed, after whichthe heavy sled slithered and slipped over the crackling snow, so thatpresently the outfit disappeared around the first bend in thetote-road. 

Miss Sophy McGurn looked particularly down-hearted. None of theinteresting events she expected had taken place. She had merelysucceeded in nearly giving herself away and arousing suspicions. 

And the girl was still there, with Hugo! She had believed that Hugowould be found sheepish and embarrassed, or in a regular fury, whilethe stranger would weep and wring her hands and seek to explain. Andthe invading crowd was to have manifested its indignation at thisbreach of all decency and proper custom, and sent the woman away, while they would have told the man what they thought of him, in spiteof his rage, and warned him that he must mend his ways or quit thecountry. 

And now they had all been driven away, and that girl had stood andspoken as if she had some right to be there, and had been indignant atany inquiry into her motives for coming to Roaring River. Worse thanall Pat Kilrea and his wife seemed to have turned against her, afterabsolving the two of blame. 

She shrank back, drawing her fur cap further down over her eyes andears. Now the cold seemed more bitter than she had ever felt itbefore, in spite of the thermometer's rise, and the road was so longand dreary that it seemed as if it never would end. 

And Hugo Ennis was dying--and in her heart Sophy McGurn felt certainthat the girl had shot to kill, and was waiting there until he shoulddie. Perhaps she had rummaged about the place and found money or othervaluables, for Ennis always seemed to have some funds, though he spentprudently and carefully, and never seemed to have dollars to throwaway. And the end of it would be that the girl would leave and the manwould be dead and all the dreams of marriage first and of a revengefollowing had turned into this thing, which was a nightmare. 

She reached her home half frozen, in spite of the robes, and could noteat her food. Her mother had a few mild words to say about longexcursions out in the back country, in this sort of weather. Then thegirl left the table suddenly, and slammed the door of her room shut, in a towering rage. A little later, after she had lain down, cametears, for it seemed to her at this time that she had never trulyloved Ennis until she heard that he was dying, and now he was lost toher forever. 

CHAPTER XII

Help Comes

Stefan had watched the departure of those people grimly, until he feltsure that they would not return. Madge had stood near him. In herdesolation it was splendid to have him there with her, to be no longerobliged to stare at the sick man's face in lonely terror, to feel thatif there was any help needed he would be at hand, with all his immensestrength and courage. 

"I tank dey don't mean much badness, " the man explained to her. "Mebbeye knows peoples in dis countree ain't much to do in dis vintertimeand dey gets fonny iteas about foolin' araount. Dey goes home allqviet now, you bet, and don't talk to nobotty vhat tam fools dey bin, eh!"

They both entered the shack again and the big fellow went up to thebunk upon which lay his friend. For a very long time he looked at him, finally touching a hand with infinite care and gentleness. After thishe turned to Madge a face expressive of deepest pain. 

"Leetle leddy, " he said, gently, "vos it true as you shot him?Papineau he telt me so. A accident, he said it vos. "

The girl looked at him imploringly, with elbows bent but handsstretched towards him, as if she were suing for forgiveness. The manwas seated on a stool, waiting for her answer. 

"Yes, it was an accident--a terrible accident, " sobbed Madge, whosestrength and courage seemed to leave her suddenly. "You--you believeme, don't you?"

It is hard to say whether it was weakness or the excess of her emotionthat forced her down to her knees. She grasped one of the huge handsthe man had extended towards her. He laid the other upon her bentback, very softly. 

"In course I do, you poor leetle leddy. Yes, I sure beliefe you. Derevosn't anybotty vould hurt Hugo, unless dey vos grazy, you bet. He bana goot friend to me--ay, he ban a goot friend to all peoples. "

He helped her up, very tenderly, and made her sit on a stool close tothe one he occupied. There was a very long interval of silence, duringwhich his great face and beard were hidden in the hollow of his hands. Then he spoke again, in a very low voice, as if he had been addressingthe smallest of his own babes. 

"You poor leetle leddy, " he repeated, "I feels most turriple sorry forHugo, for it most tear my heart out yoost to look at him. But vhen Ilooks at you I feels turriple sorry for you too. I knows vhat it mustbe, sure ting, for a leetle leddy like you to be sittin' here, in disleetle shack, a-lookin' at de man she lofe an see de life goin' out ofhim. Last fall Hugo ban gone a vhiles back East again, and vhen youcomes I tank mebbe you some nice gal he promise to marry. Even vhen detelegraft come I make sure it is so. I pring de bit paper here myselfan' vaits a vhiles, but he no come and I haf to go on. I vanted to seede happy face on him. I say to myself, 'Hah! You rascal Hugo, younefer tell nodding to your ole friend Stefan, but he know all desame. ' But vhen I got to go I couldn't say nodding. I leaf de paper onde table here an' I tank how happy he is vhen he come home an' findit. You poor leetle leddy!"

The man was mistaken, most honestly so, for no idea of love had everentered Hugo's head, and none had come to Madge. Yet the big fellow'swords seemed to stab the girl to the heart and she moaned. She feltthat she could not allow Hugo's friend to remain undeceived. There hadbeen already too many mysteries, too many lies--she would have noshare in them if she could help it. 

"I--I wasn't in love with him when I came, Stefan, " she faltered. "He--he was a stranger to me. I had never seen him--never in all mylife. I came here because--because there has been some terriblemistake--in some letters, queer letters that bade me come hereand--and meet a man who wanted a wife. And I--I was a poor miserablesick girl in New York and--and I just couldn't keep body and soultogether anymore--and--and be a good decent girl. And those lettersseemed so beautiful that I felt I must come and see the man who wrotethem, and--and I was ready to marry him if he would be kind to meand--and treat me decently and--and keep me from starvation andsuffering. And when I came here he didn't know anything about it, and--and I thought he lied. But--but I never thought to do him anyharm. I took the little pistol out of the bag, because I was lookingfor something else, and it went off! Oh!"

She hid her face in her hands, as if the whole scene had been againenacted before her, and the man heard her sobbing. 

"Hugo he nefer tell no lie, " said Stefan, softly. "I don't know vhatall dis mean, you bet. But I am glad you ban come like a stranger. Iam glad he no lofe you, and den I am sorry, too, for you so nice gal, vid voice so soft and such prettee eyes, I tank if he lofe you den yousure lofe him too. Den you two so happy in dis place, ma'am. "

He interrupted himself, striking his fist upon his chest, as if tostill a pain in it, and went on again. 

"You haf no idea how prettee place dis is, leetle leddy, in desummertime. A vonderful place to be happy in. De big falls dey makemusic all day and at night dey sings you to sleep, like de modder shesings leetle babies. Und de big birches dey lean ofer, so beautiful, and de birds dey comes all rount, nesting in all de bushes. Oh, such avonderful place for a man and a voman to love, dem falls of datRoaring Rifer! Hugo he cleared such a goot piece, oder side of datleetle hill, vhere de oats vould grow fine. And down by de Rifer, onde north side, he find silver, plenty silver in big veins, like deygot east of us, in Nipissing countree. So I tank one day he ban a richman and haf a prettee little voman and plenty nice kiddies, leetlechildren like one lofes to see, and dey all lif here so happy. "

His voice grew suddenly hoarse. It was with an effort that he spokeagain. 

"An' now he don' know me--or you or Maigan, and--and my goot dearfrient Hugo he look like he ban dyin'!"

Stefan stopped abruptly again, apparently overcome. His face, tannedby frost and sun to a hue of dull brick, also lay in the hollow of hishands. The vastness of his grief seemed to be commensurate with hissize. But when he looked up Madge saw that his eyes were dry, for hewas suffering according to the way of strong men with the agony thatclutches at the breast and twists a cord about the temples. In hishelplessness before the peril he was pitiful to see, since all hisconfidence had gone, his pride in his power, his faith in his abilityto surmount all things by the mere force of his will. And the presentweakness of the man augmented the girl's own sorrow, even though hisbeing there was relief of a sort. 

The Swede looked about him vaguely, and then his eyes became fixed ona point of the log wall, as if through it he had been able to discernthings that lay beyond. 

"Hugo an' me, " he began again, very slowly and softly, "ve vent offnorth from here, a year an' a half it is now, after de ice she ventoff de lakes. And ve trafel long vays, most far as vhere de Albany shecome down in James Bay. Ve vos lookin' for silfer an' copper an' tingslike dat. An' dere come one day vhen ve gets awful rough water on alake and ve get upset. Him Hugo he svim like a otter, he do, but me Isvim like a stone. De shore he ban couple hundret yard off, mebbeleetle more. I hold on to de bow and Hugo he grab de stern. So hebegin push for shore, svimmin' vid his feet, but dat turriple slowgoing, vid de canoe all under vater, yoost holdin' us up a bit, and itvos cold, awful turriple cold in dat vater. He calls to me ve can'tmake it dat vay, ve don't make three-four yards a minute. Den I callsfor him to let go, for I ban tanking he safe his life anyvay, svimmin'ashore vhere ve had our camp close by. Und vhat you tank he do, ma'am?He yell to me not be tam fool, dat vhat he do! He say, 'How I look atyour voman an' de kids in de face, vhen I gets back vidout you?' So helets go and my end sink deep so I let go an' vos fighting to keep upbut he grab me and say to take holt of his shoulter. He swear he trownvid me if I don't. So I done it, ma'am, and he svim, svim turriplehard, draggin' me ashore. I yoost finds my feet on de bottom vhen hekeels ofer, like dead, vid de cold and de playin' out. So I takes himin my arms and runs in. I had matches in my screw-box but my fingersvos dat froze I couldn't get 'em out first. But I manages make a fire, by an' by, and I rubs de life back into him again. And--and you knowvhat is first ting he say vhen he vake up?"

Madge shook her head. 

"Him Hugo yoost say, 'Now I kin look Mis' Olsen in de face, vhen vegets back, eh, old pard?'"

The man kept still again, looking anxiously at the sufferer andwatching the hurried breathing. The feeling of his uselessness wasevidently a torture to him, but his heart was too full for him toremain silent very long. 

"An' now I am here an' can do nodings. I ban no more use dan--dan detog dere. My God, leddy, tell me vhat I can do! He most trown himselfan' freeze to death to safe me dat time an' I got sit still like a bigtam fool an' him goin' under vidout a hand to pull him out. All deblood in my body, every drop, I gif to safe him. Don't you beliefe? Iremember vhen de vaves and de vind pring dot canoe ashore. Ve lose nota ting because eferyting is lashed tight. Py dat time he vos vhistlingand singin' alretty, like nodings efer happen. Ve had de big fireroarin', I tell you, and vhen I say again he safe my life he yoostlaugh like it is a fine yoke an' say: 'Oh, shut up, Stefan, ve're apair big fools to get upset, anyvays. And some tay you do yoost sameting for me, I bet. ' And now--now I can do nodings--nodings at all. "

He seemed to be in an agony of despair. Madge had hardly realized thatthe suffering of men could reach such an intensity. She rose andplaced her little hand on the giant's shoulder. The huge frame wasshaking convulsively, in great sobs that brought no tears with them. Then, all at once, he rose and faced her, shamefacedly. 

"Poor leetle leddy, " he faltered, "I ban makin' you unhappy vid demstory. I ban sorry be such a big tam fool, but I can no help it. It--it is stronger as me. "

For a time he paced up and down the little shack, struggling hard tokeep himself in hand. Once he seized his shaggy head in his great pawsand seemed to be trying to squeeze out of it the unendurable pain thatwas in it. 

"De sun he begin go town, " he said, stopping suddenly. "Vhy don't datPapineau get back? It get dark soon. I tank I take de togs an' go downde road. Mebbe his team break down. His leader ban a young tog. "

For an instant Madge felt like begging him to remain. Ay, she couldhave shrieked out her terror at the idea of being left alone with theman that was dying, as she thought, but she also succeeded incontrolling herself, realizing that if the man was not allowed to dosomething, anything that would require the strength of his thews anddivert the turmoil of his brain, he might go mad. 

"As--as you think best, " she assented, with her head bent low. 

Stefan took his cap and fitted it over his great shock of hair, but atthis moment Maigan rose and went to the door, whining. 

"Some one ban comin', but it ain't Papineau, " said Stefan. 

It proved to be Mrs. Papineau, hurrying down the path and carrying abasket. She explained that the cow had had a calf, hence her delay. Puffing and breathless she scolded them for not lighting the lamp andbustled about the place, declaring that the two watchers should havemade tea and that it took an experienced mother of many to know how tohandle things. 

"I have made strong soup vid moose-meat, " she told them. "Heem doMonsieur Hugo moch good. I put on de stove now an' get hot. "

She spoke confidently, just as usual, as if nothing out of theordinary were going on in the shack, but it was a transparent effortto encourage the others, and she was not able to keep it up long. Shehappened to look at Hugo again, and suddenly her face fell and herhands went up, while she buried her face in her blue apron and sobbedright out. 

"De good Lord Heem bring an' de good Lord Heem take away, " was whatshe said, and it sounded like a knell in the ears of the others. 

Since the light was beginning to fail Madge lit the little lamp. Mrs. Papineau took some of the soup out of the pot and stirred it with aspoon to cool it, and then she lifted the sick man's head. Her voicebecame soft and caressing, as if she had spoken to a child. 

"My leetle Hugo, " she said, "dere's a good fellar. Try an' drink, jus'one bit. H'open mouth, dat way. Now you swallow, dere's good boy. An'now you try heem again, jus' one more spoon. H'it is awful good, fromde big moose what Philippe he get. Jus' one more spoon an' I notbodder you no more. "

Whether Hugo understood or not no one could have told. At any rate, with infinite patience, she was able to feed him a little, until hefinally pushed her hand away from him. 

Stefan, whose back had been resting on the door and whose arms hadbeen hanging dejectedly at his side, took a step towards the girl. 

"Ay go down de road a bit an' meet Papineau if he come back, " heproposed. "If de togs is tired I take de doctor on my toboggan. Getback qvicker dat vay. So long! I comes back soon anyvays, sure. "

He started away at a swift pace, his strong dogs, amply rested, barking and throwing themselves hard upon the breastpieces of theirharness. After he was out of hearing the two women sat very closetogether, for mutual comfort and consolation, and the older one beganto speak in a low whisper. 

"You very lucky, mademoiselle. It ees lucky it ain't you h'own man aslie dere an' you haf to see heem like dat. It is turriple ting to see. One time Papineau heem get h'awful seek, an' I watch him five--no, sixday and de nights. An' it vos back in de Grand Nord, no doctor nornoding at all. An' me wid my little Justine jus' two month ole in myh'arms. An' den come de day ven de good Lord Heem 'ear 'ow I pray allde time an' Papineau heem begin to get vell again. But de time voslike having big knife planted in my 'eart, jus' like dat. "

She made a gesture as if she had stabbed herself, and went on:

"You not know 'ow 'appy you must be you no love a man as goin' for diesoon. You--you go crazy times like dat!"

But Madge made no answer and could only continue to stare at the formthat seemed to grow dimmer as the small oil lamp cast flickeringshadows in the room. In her ears the continued, eternal sound of thegreat falls had taken on an ominous character. It was like some solemndirge that rose and fell, unaccountably, like the breathing of a vastforce that could reck nothing of the piteous tragedy being enacted. Itappeared to be growing ever so much colder again. A few feet away fromthe stove it was freezing. She sought to look out of the little windowbut great massing clouds had hidden the crimson of sunset. A strongwind was arising and caused the great firs and spruces to groandismally. The minutes were again becoming cruel things that torturedone with their maddening slowness. The girl became conscious of thebeats of her heart, unaccountably slow, as she thought. 

And then, for a moment, that heart stopped utterly. A shout had comefrom the little lumber road and Maigan was barking at the doorexcitedly, in spite of the older woman's scolding. The tobogganslithered over the snow and there was a patter of dogs' feet. 

Madge threw the door open and let in a man in a great coonskin coat, who was carrying a bag. In spite of the heaviest fur mitts his handswere chilled and for a moment he held them to the glow of the stove, before turning calmly to his patient, after a curt nod to each of thewomen. 

CHAPTER XIII

A Widening Horizon

"I'm Dr. Starr, " the man introduced himself. "It's turning mighty coldagain. We only hit the high places after I got on Stefan's toboggan, Ican tell you. How the man kept up with his team I can't tell you, buthe ran all the way. "

He threw off his heavy coat and turned to the bunk. 

"Now let's see what we've got here, " he said. 

The two women were scanning his face, holding their breaths, but Mrs. Papineau had the lamp and held it so as to cast some light on Hugo. The doctor's expression, however, was quite inscrutable. 

"Your husband?" he asked the girl, who shook her head. "Well, perhapsit's a good thing he's not. Put a lot of water to boil on the stove, please. Can't you find another lamp here--this one doesn't give muchlight?"

There was no lamp but they found a package of candles which were soonflickering on the table, stuck in the necks of bottles. The doctor waspulling a lot of things out of his bag, coolly. To Madge it seemedqueer that he could be so unaffected by what he saw. Presently he wentto work, after baring the injured shoulder. 

After it was all over it seemed to the girl like some dreadfulnightmare. After just one keen glance the doctor had probably decidedthat her young hands would afford him the better help. And so she hadbeen obliged to remain at his side and look upon the sinewy shoulderand the arm that had been laid bare, and at the angry and inflamedwound which had been flooded with iodine. And then had come thepicking up of shining instruments just taken out of one of the boilingvessels. Her teeth left imprints on her lips and she felt that she wassurely going to stagger and fall as the man made long slashingincisions. From them he took out a piece of cloth and a bullet thathad been flattened against the bone. After this there was a lot moredisinfecting and the placing of red tubes of rubber deep down in thewound, which was finally covered with a large dressing. But it wasonly after this was all finished that Madge dropped on a stool, feeling sick and shaken. 

"Oh, you're not such a very bad soldier, after all, " commented thedoctor, quietly, as he gathered up his instruments to clean and boilthem again. "I can't say that I'm optimistic about this case--butperhaps you don't quite understand such big words. I mean that Ihaven't any great hopes for this lad, but at least he has some littlechance now. There was none whatever before. Of course it depends a loton the nursing he gets. If I thought for a moment that he could standthe trip I'd take him away with me, but that's out of the question. "

Then he turned to Stefan. 

"I'll have to catch the first freight back in the morning, my man. Will you take me to Carcajou in good time? I can't afford to miss it. Too many needing me just now east of here!"

"Ay, I take you--if Hugo he no worse. But if tings is goin' wrong, I'll let Papineau do it. I--I can't leaf no more. Vhen I starts fromhere I tank I can't stand it a moment--but vhen I get off on de road, I gets grazy to come back. I--I don't know vhat I vants!"

The doctor looked at him curiously, appreciating the depth of theman's emotion and gauging the strength of the superb creature he was. 

"I won't let you take me if it isn't safe, " he told him, and turned tohis patient again. 

"Do you expect to stay up all night?" he suddenly asked the girl. 

"I--I am anxious to, if I can be of the slightest help. "

"One can never tell, " he replied. "I might be glad to have you withme. You don't lose your head--and you're efficient. "

Presently Papineau arrived with his dogs and took his wife home. Thegood lady had looked upon the doctor's cutting with profound disfavor. A suggestion of hers about herbs had been treated with scant respect. Before leaving she spoke to Madge. 

"I stay h'all night too--but it ain't no good, because if he lifto-morrow night den you go sleep an' I stay 'ere. Before I go to bed Iprays moch. I--I 'opes he lif through de night--heem no more bad asheem was, anyvays, an' dat someting. "

So they went away sorrowfully, to the little new-born calf and thebabies and the children who needed them, and Stefan sat on the floorwith his back to the wall, while Maigan snuggled up against him. 

Dr. Starr remained all night, sometimes dozing a little on his chair, with the ability of the man often called at night to take littlesnatches of sleep here and there, but Madge was at all times wideawake. Some time after midnight Hugo appeared to be sleeping quietly. The valuable candles had been extinguished, of course, but the littlelamp was burning, shaded on one side by a piece of birch bark. Stefanhad gradually curled up on the floor, under the table, where he wasout of the way, and was snoring lustily. In the morning, doubtless, hewould most honestly insist that he had not slept an instant. Out ofdoors the Swede's dogs had dug holes in the snow and, with sensitivenoses covered by their bushy tails, were awaiting in slumber the nextcall from their master. The great falls kept up their moan and thetrees swayed and cracked. A wind-borne branch, falling on the roof, made a sudden racket that was startling. 

At frequent intervals Madge rose and gave Hugo some water, for whichhe always seemed grateful, or adjusted the pillow beneath his head. Once, when she sat down again, she saw the doctor's eyes fixed uponher, gravely. 

"You have the necessary instinct, " he told her, "and the patience andperseverance. I don't know what your plans may be for the future, butyou would make a good nurse. "

Madge shrugged her shoulders, the tiniest bit. She didn't know. Itdidn't matter what she was fit for. The world so far had been afailure. The only important thing before her now was to do her best tohelp pull the sick man out of the jaws of death, if it could possiblybe done. She sat down again, and after a time that seemed like an agethe utter blackness without began to turn to gray and, in spite of theconstantly replenished stove, the chill of the early morning struckdeep into her. As the doctor looked at his watch she rose and began tomake tea, which comforted them. 

"Do you expect to keep on looking after this man?" the doctor askedher, abruptly, between two mouthfuls. 

"Yes, of course, if I may, " she answered. 

"I should say that you will simply have to, if his life is to besaved, or at least if he's to have a fair chance. I shall be compelledto go pretty soon. As it is I won't get back home before noon andthere are several bad cases I must see to-day. I'll return the dayafter to-morrow; it's the best I can do, for it is absolutelyimpossible for me to remain here. Now just listen to me very carefullywhile I give you the necessary directions. I think I'd better writesome of them out so that you will be sure not to forget them. See ifyou can find me a bit of paper somewhere. "

On one of the shelves there was a small homemade desk in which sherummaged. She found a number of loose bits of paper, some of themscribbled over in pencil and others with ink. They were apparentlyaccounts, notes concerning various supplies and a few letters fromvarious places. Finding a clean sheet she brought it to the doctor whorapidly wrote at length upon it. At this moment Stefan awoke, with aportentous yawn, but a second later he had leaped to his feet and wasscanning their faces anxiously. 

"I tank mebbe I doze for a moment, " he informed them. "How is Hugogettin' long?"

"For the present he looks to me somewhat better, " answered the doctor. "There doesn't seem to be any immediate danger, and I'll have to startback in a few minutes. We've had a cup of tea, but you'd better makesome breakfast ready. "

Stefan bestirred himself and presently a potful of rolled oats wasbeing stirred carefully for fear of burning, and bacon was sputteringin the pan. The kettle was singing again and Madge was cutting slicesfrom a loaf left by Mrs. Papineau. The three sat down to the table andate hungrily, abundantly, as people have to who make stern demandsupon their vitality. 

The doctor made a few more remarks about the treatment of his patient. He had carefully laid on the table the little tablets of medicine, thebottle containing an antiseptic, the cotton and gauze that must beused to renew the dressing. Then he went out, breathing deeply of thesharp and aromatic air, and a moment later he and Stefan were gone, the latter promising to return at once, with a few needed suppliesfrom the store. Madge was alone now with Hugo, who was again sleepingquietly. She read over the doctor's directions carefully while shestood by the little window, as the lamp had been extinguished. 

A few minutes later she decided to place the paper in the little deskagain, for safe-keeping. Without the slightest curiosity her eyes fellagain upon some of the writing on loose sheets. But presently she wasstaring at it hard as a strong conviction made its way into her brain. After this she went to the other shelf where some books had beenplaced and opened one of them, and then another. On the flyleaf waswritten, in bold characters, "Hugo Ennis. " The writing was exactly thesame as that which appeared on the scattered leaves, for she comparedthem carefully. 

"There can be no doubt--he never wrote those letters, " she decided. "But--but I knew very well he couldn't have written them. It--it isn'tlike him. "

The idea came again that he could have obtained some one to write forhim, but it was immediately cast aside. The man would not engage indirty work himself--far less would he get others to do it for him. She--she had abused and insulted him--called him a liar, as far as shecould remember, and again her face felt hot and burning. 

Once more she sat down by the bunk, after she had given Maigan a bigfeed of oats, with a small remnant of the bacon grease. She felthumbled now, as if her accusations constituted some unforgivable, despicable sin. This man had never intended to do her the slightestharm. He really never knew that she was coming. And through her stupidclumsiness his life was now ebbing. The doctor's long words soundeddreadfully in her ears: general sepsis, blood poisoning, a systemoverwhelmed by the toxines of virulent microbes; they reverberated inher ears like so many sentences of death. Was there any hope that thisoutflowing life would ever turn in its course and return like anincoming tide? Would she again see him able to lift up his head, tospeak in words no longer dictated by the vagaries of delirium? Shewould give anything to be able to ask his pardon humbly after his mindcleared again. Oh, it was unthinkable that he should die, that the endmight be coming soon, and that she must go forth with that unspeakableload of misery in her heart. 

Maigan restlessly kept on coming to her and placing his head in herlap, as if seeking comfort. Once she bent over and put her cheekagainst his jaw and furry ear. He was a companion in misery. 

When she lifted up her head again to stare once more at the sufferer, with eyes heavily ringed with black, he slowly opened his own andlooked at her vaguely, for at first there was not the slightest signof recognition in them. Presently, however, the girl saw somethingthat looked like a faint smile. 

"How--how long have I been asleep?" he asked, weakly. "And have--haveyou been here all the time?"

She nodded, conscious that her heart was now beating with excitement, and his eyes closed again. But his hand had sought the one she hadlaid on the blanket and rested on it, for a few moments. It was theever-recurring call of the man for the comfort of a woman's touch, forthe protection his strength gathers from her weakness. 

"You--you're ever so good and kind, " he said again, in a low hoarsevoice, after which he kept still again, for the longest time. 

In spite of the gray pall of clouds over the sky and the complainingof the gale-swept tops of the great trees, in spite of the vast dullroar of the great falls, that had seemed a dirge, a ray of cheer hadentered the little shack. It had seemed to her like such a paltry andmean excuse for a dwelling, when she had first seen it, and had beenso thoroughly in keeping with the sordid nature she had at onceattributed to this man whom she believed to have brought her therewith amazing lies. But now, in some way, it had become a link, and theonly one, that still attached her a little to the world. It appearedto her like the one place where she had been able to obtain a littlerest from her miserable thoughts. Indeed, it had now become infinitelydesirable. If the man could have stood up again and greeted her itwould have become a haven of unspeakable comfort, since she wouldrealize that for once her efforts had not been in vain, and that shehad helped bring him back to life. But of course she knew that shemust leave it soon, that whether he died or recovered, the only trailshe could follow would be one that would lead to the banks of theRoaring River, where the big air holes were. And yet, so strongly ishope implanted in the human heart, this termination of her adventureseemed to have receded into a dimmer future, like the knowledge whichwe have that some day all must die but which we consider pertains onlyto some vague and distant period that we shall not reach for a longtime. 

Hugo was sleeping quietly now and the girl's hand upon his pulsedetected a feeble and swift flowing of the blood-current which, inspite of its weakness, was an improvement. But the great thing wasthat another day had come and he was still living, and his breathingcame quietly. If--if she had loved the man, she never would have beenable to go through all this without a breaking down of her littlestrength. As Stefan had said, and as Mrs. Papineau had also intimated, it was fortunate for her that she did not love him. Indeed, it wasever so much better. She was glad indeed that he had recognized andpraised her, and then his voice had never expressed the slightest signof reproach. She was happy that he had found comfort in her presencebeside his couch and--and had been able to smile at her. 

Madge opened the door to let Maigan out. The air was full of featherymasses of snow blown from treetops. Sheltered as she was from thewind, the cold was no longer so penetrating. In the east the gray wastinted through the agency of long rifts in which dull shades of redbroke through and were reflected even upon the white at her feet. Itwas not a cheery world just then, since the sun did not shine and thegreat fronds of evergreens loomed very dark, but the vastness of thewooded valley sloping down beneath her and stretching beyond thelimits of her vision impressed her with a sense of greatness and ofpower. It was a tremendously big, strong and inexorable world, inwhich was being fought the unending and apparently unjust battle ofthe mighty against the weak, of the wolves and lynxes against the deerand hares, of a myriad furred and sharp-fanged things against thefeebler and defenseless things of the forest. But also it was a worldcapable of bringing forth majestic things; able and willing to rewardtoil; in which, despite all of nature's unceasing cruelty, there couldreign happiness and the accomplishment of a heart's desire. 

All this was not clearly shaped in Madge's mind. She was merelyundergoing a vague and potent influence that penetrated her very soul. She closed the door again very softly, and when she sat again it waswith a strange feeling of contentment, or at any rate a surcease ofbitter thoughts, which affected her gently, like the heat of thelittle stove. 

Maigan soon scratched at the door again, and through the frosted glassMadge saw Mrs. Papineau approaching. She was looking rather tired anddismal. It was evident, from her panting, that she had hurried, butnow she was coming very slowly, as if afraid to hear bad news. Butwhen she finally came in and looked at Hugo, her fat face took on someof its wonted cheerfulness. 

"Heem no look so bad now, " she asserted. "Who know? Mebbe get allright again, eh? What Docteur Starr heem say before he go?"

Madge was compelled to give her a long account of how the night hadpassed and to describe every move and relate every word of thedoctor. 

"Dat's good, " approved Mrs. Papineau. "Now you go to our 'ouse an' getto bed an' 'ave sleep. If de children make noise tell 'em I slap 'emplenty ven I get back, sure. You need bad for to sleep--h'eyes looktired an' red. "

She explained that Papineau had been obliged to go off after sometraps that were not very far away, and would return by midday. Sheinsisted upon the need of Madge to impress the children with thevirtues of silence. They had already been informed that if they didnot keep still when the lady returned they would be given to the_loup-garou_ and other mythical and traditional terrors of _habitant_childhood. 

"Me stay 'ere all day. Den you come back an' stay de night, if youlak'. You tell me vat I do. "

The good lady found her endeavors useless, however. Hadn't the doctorsaid that incessant care might perhaps, with luck, bring about arecovery? And Hugo had been better--he had spoken--he might speakagain and want something she might get him. Moreover, the dressing wasto be changed very soon and the drainage tubes were to be flushed outonce in so often with the solution the doctor had left. To have goneaway then would have been desertion; she never entertained the thoughtfor an instant. 

Hence she attended to these things, in the presence of Mrs. Papineau, who looked quite awed at the proceedings. Generally the man seemedquite unconscious of what she did, and there was little complaint fromhim; just a few moans and perhaps a slight drawing away when she hurthim slightly in spite of her gentle handling. Finally Madge consentedto rest a little, providing she was not forced to leave the shack. Inthe absence of other accommodation Mrs. Papineau had spread a heavyblanket on the floor, with odds and ends of spare clothing. It wasonly after the good woman had solemnly promised to awaken her in casethere was the slightest need that the girl at last lay down, feelingdead tired but without the slightest desire to sleep, as she thought. But it did not take a very long time before her eyes closed and shewas deep in slumber that was heavy and dreamless. Maigan came andcurled up beside her. He thoroughly approved of her. 

It was only after midday that she awoke, startled, as if conscious ofhaving been remiss in her duty, and raised herself quickly to asitting posture. 

"Is--is everything all right?" she asked, anxiously. 

Upon being reassured she tried to lie down again, at Mrs. Papineau'surging, but sleep refused to come. Indeed, she felt greatly rested. And then she began to feel very hungry and had a meal of bread andtea, with a few dried prunes. It was not a very fine repast, but Madgewas amazed to see what a lot she could eat. When she rose from thetable she felt conscious that in some way she had gained strength, inspite of her weariness. After this she renewed the dressings again, taking the greatest pains with them. It was getting dark when Mrs. Papineau left her, utterly indifferent to the howling of wolves on thedistant ridges. She had offered to remain but Madge knew that herpresence was needed at home, owing to the little ones. Moreover, thegirl was getting accustomed to her weird surroundings. 

In the faithful Maigan there was a protector. Besides, she stillcounted among the living; she was engaged in work that called forand brought out all her womanhood. In spite of her fears for theman the longing for his recovery was becoming mingled with a vagueconfidence, with the idea of a possibility that something mighthappen that would gradually develop in some sort of promise for afuture that would not be all sorrow and toil. It was perhaps simplya temporary forgetfulness of self when confronted with what was agreater and stronger interest. The girl Madge had become lessimportant when compared to the dying man. She was merely an instrumentwherewith destiny helped to shape certain indefinite ends. Her ownturn had not yet come, and her personality was submerged in a simpleacquiescence in plans and decrees she could not understand. 

It appeared that the dreariness of the long hours had lessened. Theimminent threat of the day before was no longer so vivid and racking, for the man kept on breathing with fair ease, and his pulse wasperhaps a little stronger. She was wondering why Stefan had notreturned as he had promised, when the now familiar sound of dogs andsled fell again on her ears. To her joy and surprise she found that itwas the doctor, returning with the Swede. 

"Managed to get away after all, " explained the former. "It's thedevil's own thing to think there's a chap somewhere that a fellowmight perhaps help, and then be obliged to let him go because othersare calling for you. Women are desperately fond of asking theirhusbands if they would save them or their mothers first, in case ofneed. It's the deuce and all of a question to answer. But we fellowswho practice on the edge of the wilderness are all the time confrontedby beastly questions of that sort. How is he?"

"I really think he's better, " she hastened to inform him, anddescribed how the sick man had spoken and been quite lucid for somemoments. Dr. Starr went in and stopped at the side of the bunk, looking down with his chin resting on his hand. 

To Madge he had seemed to be a man of few words, rather stern in hismanner and apt, as she thought, to view humanity from a verymaterialistic point of view. His recent speech was the longest she hadheard from him. In a somewhat cynical vein he had referred to somehard problems the lone practitioner has to solve at times. 

"At any rate, he seems to be holding his own, " he finally admitted. "Ican't see that he is a bit worse. It seems to me that you're a prettycapable nurse. Some brains and lots of good strong will. "

He looked away from her as he talked and began to rub his handstogether. 

"Tell you what, " he said, turning again to her. "This night might bethe decisive one, and I think I'll stick it out here again. I'll catchthe freight back in the morning, as I did to-day. We'll have a look atthe wound now, and see how those drains are working. Did you follow myorders? But I think I needn't ask. Put more water on the stove, Stefan. "

Madge had been holding the lamp for him, and when the doctor passedhis hand over Hugo's forehead the eyes opened and the man blinked. Also there seemed to be a relaxing of the tense, hollow-cheeked face. 

"She--she's saving my life, " he whispered, hoarsely. "She's tirelessand--and kindness itself. Don't--don't let her get played out. "

He put out a brown hand that had rapidly become very thin and touchedthe girl's arm, after which he lay back, exhausted by his slighteffort. The doctor went to work again, baring the wound, injectingfluids, adjusting the drains, and as he busied himself he always foundthe girl at his side, with all that he needed ready at his hand. 

"That'll do for a while, " he finally said. "The drainage is good. Heisn't absorbing much poison now, that's sure. If we can keep up hisstrength he's going to pull through, I hope. Get us a bite of supper, Stefan, I'm as hungry as a bear. "

[Illustration: He put out a brown hand and touched the girl's arm]

During the night the doctor dozed off again, at times, like a man wellversed in conserving his energy. But whenever he awoke he found Madgewide awake, intently observing the patient or busy with something forhis comfort. The sky had cleared again and the great trunks were againcracking in the frost of the bright and starlit night. Dr. Starr hadbeen staring for some moments at the girl. He shivered a little anddrew his stool nearer the stove. Stefan was again snoring on thefloor. 

"Come over here, " he told Madge in a low voice, "bring your seat withyou. I want to get something off my mind. "

"You needn't answer if you don't wish to, " he told her, "but--butthere's something rather tragic about that little face of yours. Idon't think it's idle curiosity, but I'd like to know. I might as wellconfess that I've been questioning that fellow Stefan about you, butthe sum of his knowledge is best represented by zero. I can assure youthat I don't want to intrude and that I won't be a bit offended if youtell me it's none of my business. "

"What do you want to know?" asked Madge, rather frightened, althoughshe did not know why. 

"You are aware, of course, that we doctors are used to seeing pain andusually try to get at the cause, so that we may better know how torelieve it. I should judge that you have known a lot of suffering;that sort of thing leaves marks. Fortunately, they can often beeffaced in the young. I have been thinking that you were in need of afriend. No! Don't draw back! I'll say right now that my wife 's thebest woman on earth and I've got four kids. You ought to see thelittle rascals. Now I might as well tell you that I'm grateful to youfor taking such good care of my patient. I'd also be glad of a chanceto help you a little, or give advice if you happen to need any. "

Madge stared at him for a moment during which her eyes became somewhatblurred. The doctor's offer seemed like the first really disinterestedand friendly one that had been proffered to her for some years. Inthat vast New York she had become unused to that sort of thing. Theother people in this place had been ever so kind, of course, but itwas on account of their friend Hugo. At first she hesitated. 

"You look like a man that can be trusted, " she said, very low. 

"I feel that I am, " he answered, simply. 

Then, gradually, moved by that desire to confess and trust in a friendthat is one of the best qualities of human nature, she told of hercoming, in halting, interrupted words. The doctor kept silent, noddingnow and then so that she became impressed with a certainty that heunderstood. At times that deep red color suffused her cheeks, but theywould soon become pale again, all the more so for her dark-ringedeyes. Little by little her story became easier to tell. She hadsketched it out in a few broad lines, but the man to whom she spokehappened to know the world. Her speaking relieved her burdened heartand gave her greater strength. 

"And--and I think that's all, " she faltered at last. "Do--do youreally understand? Do you think I've been a shameless creature toventure into this? Can you realize what it is to be at the very end ofone's tether?"

The doctor looked at her, the tiny wrinkles in the corners of his eyesbecoming more pronounced. He put out his long-fingered, capable handto her, and she stretched out her own, timidly, in response. 

"You and I, from this time on, are a pair of friends, " he told her. "Indeed, I'm acquainted with that huge beehive you came from, with itsdrones and its workers, its squanderers and its makers. I studiedthere for a couple of years, and I know why some of the women have achoice between the river and even fouler waters. But let me tell youwhat I think of this matter. The desperate effort you made to saveyourself may not have been very good judgment. Ninety-nine times outof a hundred such an endeavor would be worse than jumping from thefrying-pan into the fire. But at least it argues something strong andgenuine in you. You came because you felt that you could not give upthe fight without one last supreme trial. Such a thing would take alot of pluck. "

He stopped for a moment, looking into the whites of her eyes. 

"And now you've made up your mind that all your struggle has been invain and that the end is in sight. Now I can't tell where that endlies, Miss Nelson, but it looks to me as if it had retired into thefar distance. You are going to keep on taking care of this man, ofcourse. He needs you badly, in the first place, and the toil andstress of it will be good for your soul. And then saving a life istremendously interesting. There's nothing like it. But your new lifeis only to begin when this job is finished. "

"I--I don't understand, " said the girl, watching him eagerly. 

"When you're through with this case, Stefan will bring you back toCarcajou. There he'll put you on the train and send you to me. I canassure you that my wife will welcome you. She's that sort, strong andfriendly and helpful. My poor little chaps don't see very much oftheir daddy, but they've got a mother who's a wonder, to make up forit. Now our village can't yet afford a trained nurse, though some dayI'm going to have a little hospital and two or three of them. Therailroad will help. But in the meanwhile you're going to work for me, at little more than a servant's wages. You're quick and intelligentand have a pair of gentle and capable hands. There are scores andscores of little houses and shacks where your presence would be simplyinvaluable. My wife tries it, but she can't do it all, with the kidsand the husband to look after. I shall work you like a horse, when youget strong enough, but every bit of the work will help some poordevil. My wife can give you a bed, a seat at our table and plenty ofgood wise friendship. In all this you're going to give away a lot morethan you will receive. How does it strike you?"

But Madge was weeping silently, with her face held in her hands. Thedoctor had certainly not tried to make his proposition veryattractive, and yet she felt as if she were emerging from deep watersin which she had been suffocating. Now there was pure air to breatheand there would always be God's sunlight to cheer one and bringblessed warmth. From the slough of despond she was being drawn intothe glory of hope. 

"I shall try, " she promised. "Oh, how hard I'm going to try! It--itseems just like some wonderful dream. But--but can I really earn allthis--are you sure that it isn't--"

"Charity on my part?" interrupted the doctor. "Not a bit, Miss Nelson. We're scantily provided with women in these new countries. And thereare enough poor fellows who get hurt in the mines, or on the railroad, to give you plenty of employment without counting the regularsettlers. A good woman's face at their side may make the end easierfor some of them and help others get well quicker. "

"If--if you are very sure--"

"I know what I'm talking about. You see, Miss Nelson, there is reallyno need of any one despairing in one of those big cities, so long asthere is enough strength and courage left to get out of them. In thisgreat expanse of wilderness toilers are needed, but we can't usemollycoddles. The men have to hew and dig and plow, and need women towork at their sides, to look after the injured, to teach the littleones, to keep the rough crowd civilized and human. More than all theyare needed to become the mothers of a strong breed engaged in theconquest of a new world, one that is being made first with the axe andthe hoe and in which the victory represents germinating seed and happyusefulness. Countries such as this are not suited to the dross ofhumanity. We cannot find employment for the weak, the lazy, or theshiftless. The first of these are to be pitied, of course, but wecannot help them. To the red-blooded and the clean of heart it offersall that sturdy manhood and womanhood can desire. Surely you can seehow wide our horizons are, how full of promise is this new world thatstretches out its welcoming arms to you!"

"I see--I see it all, " answered the girl. "Oh, what a glorious visionit is! How can I ever thank you?"

"You don't have to, " replied the man, sharply. "If you decide toaccept my offer I will be the one to feel grateful. "

He looked at her keenly, and was doubtless satisfied with what he saw. Then he tilted back the legs of his stool, rested his head on the logwall behind him, and took another good sound nap. 

He went away again just before sunrise, and Madge was left once morealone with the sick man. Soon she noticed that his eyes openedfrequently, and followed her when she happened to move about the room. She could see that her presence strengthened him. In Hugo's mind, however, there was the dim impression that he was returning from along blindfolded journey that had left no impressions of anything butvague pain and deep weariness. And it was utterly wonderful to begreeted by a gentle voice and given care such as had not been hissince childhood. 

CHAPTER XIV

The Hoisting

On the few rests the dogs were compelled to take on their way back toCarcajou, Dr. Starr again questioned Stefan, carefully. The storyMadge had told him was interesting, it sounded a little like some ofthose tales of detectives and plots marvelously unraveled, but thetrouble was that no sleuth was at work and the mystery was as deep asever. He inquired carefully in regard to the enemies Hugo might havemade, but struck an absolute blank. Yes, there was one fellow Hugo hadlicked, but a couple of weeks later the young man had obliged him witha small loan, which had been cheerfully repaid, and the individual inquestion had moved a couple of hundred miles east. Oh, that was wayback last summer!

Having thus easily eliminated the masculine element of Carcajou, ittook no great effort on the doctor's part to turn to the women. Werethere any who had reason to dislike him; had he made love to any ofthem?

"Hugo make lofe to any gals in Carcajou!" exclaimed Stefan, holding aburning match in his fingers and letting it go out. "Hugo don't nefermake lofe to nobotty. Dere's McGurn's gal over to the store as lookedlike she vanted bad to make lofe to him; alvays runnin' after Hugo, she vos. Vhen he go in de post-office she alvays smile awful sveet atHugo, and dere's dem as say she vere pretty mad because he don't neverpay no attention. Vhat he care for de red-headed t'ing?"

"She looks after all the mail, doesn't she?" asked the doctor. 

"Yes, McGurn he too busy vid oder t'ings. De gal tends to all deletters an' papers. "

This seemed an indication worth following. When they reached the depotat Carcajou, Joe Follansbee informed them that the freight would beabout an hour late. Madge had, during the course of her story, toldthe doctor all about the visit of the Carcajou Vigilantes, and fromStefan he had obtained the names of the people who had made up theparty. Most of them were known to him, since he was frequently calledto Carcajou, especially when the mill was running. From the girl hehad obtained the letters she received from Hugo, as she had formerlybelieved. The matter could not be allowed to rest. He must investigatethings further. Meeting old man Prouty, whom he had once cured ofrheumatism, he drew him aside. The old man quite willingly told of hisshare in the event. 

"We only wanted to see that everything was straight and aboveboard, "he told the doctor. "And there wouldn't have been no fuss there at allif Sophy McGurn hadn't come out kinder crazy; the way them excitablewomen-folks does, sometimes. "

"What did she do?" asked Dr. Starr. 

"Oh, she went an' accused that young 'ooman over there of havin' triedto murder Hugo. Said somethin' about the gal wantin' to get square onhim for--for somethin' or other as ain't very clear. But soon as PatKilrea he begins to pin her down to facts she takes it all back an'says she don't really know nothin'. "

"Thanks, Mr. Prouty, I'm very much obliged to you. I'll stroll overthere. "

He walked over to the general store and post-office where he wasgreeted by old McGurn, who at his request produced a box of cigars. 

"Yes, Doc, I can recommend them, " he said. "There was a drummerstopped here last week who said they smelled just like real Havanas. Ibought two barrels of crockery off him. "

The doctor nodded, admiring the drummer's diplomacy, and walked overto the other counter behind which Miss Sophy was standing. 

"How do you do, Miss McGurn?" he said, amiably. 

"How d'ye do? How's Hugo--Hugo Ennis?" she asked, eagerly. 

"He may perhaps pull through, though he's still hanging on to a prettythin chance. I suppose you know that you're soon going to be called asa witness?"

"Me?" she exclaimed. "What for?"

"Well, that story about an accident looks rather fishy to me, youknow. I have an idea that it wouldn't be a bad thing to have thesheriff come over here and investigate things a little. We'rebeginning to get too civilized on this line to stand for gun-play. I've talked over the matter with some of the people who went with youto Roaring River, and I gather that you are the only one who canenlighten us a little. "

"I--I don't know anything!" she stammered. 

"You're probably too modest, Miss McGurn, or you may perhaps be tryingto shield some one. That shows your kind heart, of course, but itwon't quite do for the law. At any rate you will tell us what arousedyour suspicions. It's very important, you know, for the slightest cluemay be of service. And then, of course, there is the matter of theletters. "

"What letters?" cried the girl, biting her lips. 

"Oh, just some letters that passed through this office. Let me see, where did I put them? Always indispensable to secure all documents. Miss Nelson gave them to me. "

Very slowly he pulled the letters out of his pocket, while his keeneyes searched Sophy's face, gravely. She was distinctly ill at ease, he observed. 

"There has been a queer mix-up. These documents can hardly be calledforgery, since there is no attempt to imitate the real handwriting ofthe person who is supposed to have written them. It's simply a clumsyattempt to deceive, as far as I can see. But the strange thing is thatseveral letters came from New York, apparently, and have never beenreceived. It seems that they must have come through this office andthe post-office authorities will be asked to trace them. They arealways glad to hear of any irregularities, of course, and will send anexpert here, naturally, if mere inquiry does not suffice. Those chapsare wonderfully clever, you know. They seem to be able to find outanything they want to know. The letters I am showing you came throughCarcajou, there's your stamp on the envelopes. The detective willcompare this handwriting with that of every man, woman and child inCarcajou and the neighborhood, and while it is certainly disguised, there's so much of it that they will certainly find out who sent them. It--it's going to prove devilish tough for somebody, you may be sure. Of course I'm no lawyer and can't tell what the charge will be, perhaps conspiracy of some sort, or making use of the mails for somefraudulent or--or some prohibited purpose. But that's evidently noconcern of ours and I know you'll help the authorities to the best ofyour ability. You will naturally do all you can because no postmasterlikes to have any irregularity in his office. That sort of thinggenerally means taking it away from the holder and putting it in otherhands. Your father would be pretty angry if anything like thathappened, because while you attend to the mails, he's really theresponsible party. "

Miss Sophy may not have realized how keenly the doctor was looking ather. He was now feeling quite certain that his suspicions had fallenon the guilty party. Here was a jealous woman who evidently knew agood deal. Putting two and two together is the very essence ofscientific thought and Dr. Starr was no beginner. Sophy's foot wasbeating a rapid tattoo on the floor. On her face the color kept goingand coming. 

"Somebody has done a very foolish thing, " continued the doctor. "Perhaps it was not realized that it was also a very wicked one. Atany rate there is a lot of trouble coming. I will bid you good-day. "

He turned on his heels, lighting the cigar he had bought and lookingquite unconcerned. Sophy hastened around the counter and interceptedhim at the door, following him out. She touched his arm. 

"Do--do they suspect any one?" she asked. 

"I think I may have spoken too much, Miss McGurn, " answered thedoctor, with a face that had suddenly become exceedingly stern. "It is not for me to answer your question. Of course, it's in mypower to tell the sheriff that there is no longer any suspicion thatthe shooting was otherwise than accidental, and I could perhapsalso persuade Miss Nelson not to follow this matter of the lettersany further. I think that she would follow my advice in thematter. But I have no intention of interfering until--until I knoweverything--down--to--the--last--word!"

He accentuated this by striking with his fist into an open hand, slowly, as if driving in a rebellious spike. They were alone on thelittle veranda of the store. Within her breast the girl's heart wasthrobbing with fear--with the terror of exposure and unknownpunishments. She felt that this man knew the exact truth and she hadthe sensation of some animal cornered and seeing but a single avenueof escape. 

"But I have found out everything I wanted to know, Miss McGurn, " Dr. Starr told her, suddenly. "Unless I have a written confession in my handsI shall let matters take their course. It--is--for--you--to--choose. "

He looked at his watch. 

"My train should be here in fifteen minutes, " he told her. "After thatit will be too late!"

Then the girl broke down. Wild thoughts had come and gone. If a weaponhad been at hand she might, in obedience to the behest of a wild andfiery nature, have stabbed the man who so calmly faced her. But shefelt utterly helpless and her fear and despair became supreme. 

"I--I'll write whatever you want me to, if--if you promise not totell!" she cried. 

"I'm not quite prepared to accept conditions, " he answered. "I intendto show the paper to Ennis and to Miss Nelson. They have a right toknow the truth. But I can promise that they will carry the matter nofarther, and that I shall see that neither the sheriff nor thepost-office authorities will interfere. There are but a few minutesleft now. "

She rushed into the store again and went to the desk. Her father wasno longer in the room. With feverish speed she wrote while the doctorbent over her, suggesting a word now and then. Finally she signed thepaper and handed it to him. 

"I think you had better give me those answers now, " he suggested. "Those directed to A. B. C. "

From Box 17 she took the letters and handed them over without a word, and the doctor carefully placed them in his pocket with the others. 

"I think you've been very wise in taking my advice, Miss McGurn, " hetold her. "It was the only way out of trouble. Isn't that thefreight's whistle? I'll hurry off. Good-day to you. "

He stepped quickly across the space that separated him from thestation. On the platform Joe Follansbee greeted him pleasantly. 

"A fine clear day, doctor, " said the station agent. 

"Yes, everything is beautifully clear now, " answered Dr. Starramiably. "Shouldn't wonder if this were about the last of the coldweather. "

Then he got on the caboose, where the crew welcomed him. As one of thecompany doctors he had the right to ride on anything that came along, and the men were always glad to see him. They made him comfortable ina corner and offered him hot tea and large soggy buns. But he thankedthem, smilingly, and sat down in a corner. From his bag he took out amedical journal and was soon immersed in an exceedingly interestingarticle on hysteria. 

Strangely enough, at that very moment Miss Sophy had run up to herroom and thrown herself on the bed, face downwards and buried in apillow. She was weeping and uttering incoherent cries. When her mothercame in, alarmed, the old lady was indignantly ordered out again whilethe girl's feet beat against the mattress hurriedly, and she bit theknuckles of her hands. 

CHAPTER XV

The Peace of Roaring River

It is particularly in the great north countries that the seasonchanges from the lion into the lamb, with a swiftness that isperfectly bewildering. The sick man was getting well. Over a weeksince, Dr. Starr had declared that all danger had passed. And as thedays went by the cold that had shackled the land disappeared so thatthe frosted limbs by the great falls wept off their coating of gems, and the earth, in great patches, began to show new verdure. Then hadcome twenty-four hours of a pelting, crashing rain, that had meltedaway more snow and ice. After the rain was over and the sky hadcleared again, Madge had gone out and stood by the brink of the greatfalls, where she watched the thundering turbid flood as it madlyrushed into the great pit below. Incessantly great cakes of ice poisedon the brown-white edge above for an instant, and hurled themselvesfuriously into the chasm as if bent on everlasting devastation. Theriver itself was rising swiftly and from time to time the great logsthat had remained stranded in the upper reaches of the river alsoplunged into the vortex, where they twisted and sank and rose, endlessly. 

There was something fascinating in this vast turmoil of mighty forces, in this leaping forth of a great river now liberated and escapingtowards the great lakes and thence to the ocean. Hitherto Madge hadgazed upon them timidly, with sudden shivers, as if all this hadrepresented part of the great peril of life and actually threatenedher. But now it seemed to have become a part of the immensity of thisworld, a fragment of the wondrous heritage of nations still to beborn. And just as the flood still had a long journey to travel ere itfound rest in the Atlantic's bosom, so now Madge felt that her owncourse represented but the beginning of a new and greater life. 

In spite of many nights spent at that bedside, she looked far betterand more robust than when she had first reached Roaring River. Couragehad returned to her and with it the will to endure, to live, to seizeupon her share of the wondrous glory of this new world that was sofresh and beautiful. And yet her thoughts were very sober; she did notfeel that she had reached utter happiness. Her life would now be oneof usefulness, according to the doctor's promise. She felt that facesmight become cheerier at her coming and that little children--thechildren of other people--would welcome her and crow out their littlejoy. 

Several long nights of quiet rest had built her up into a woman thatwas no longer the factory drudge or the recent inmate of hospitals. One of the Papineau children had come over to remain with Hugo, lesthe should need anything. Madge attended him during the day, concoctingthings on the stove, dressing the fast closing wound and administeringthe drugs left by the doctor, with the greatest punctuality, and theman's eyes followed her every motion, generally in silence. She alsospoke little. It was as if, upon both of them, a timidity had comethat made it hard for them to exchange thoughts. The first time he hadwanted to speak of the problem of her coming she failed to encouragehim. 

"I know all that happened now, " she told him, "and I have long knownthat you were not at fault, in any way. Indeed, I feel grateful foryour forbearance when I first came. But, if you don't mind, we won'tspeak of it again. It--it distresses me. "

He saw plainly that she had blushed, in spite of the fact that sheturned her head swiftly away, and remained silent until she came againwith a teaspoonful of something he must swallow. 

So she sat down again and her mind reverted to the future, which wascertainly immeasurably splendid and promising, as compared to theoutlook of a fortnight before. In her pockets were the letters she hadwritten to this man. Dr. Starr had brought them to her one day, whenHugo was already able to listen and understand. 

"I think they were intended for me, " said the latter, gently. 

"No!" exclaimed Madge, reddening and leaping from her stool. "Pleasegive them to me, Dr. Starr. They were sent to an utterly unknown man. They were replies to letters you never sent and therefore they're notyours. Please--I--I'd rather you didn't see them!"

The young man had nodded, quietly. 

"Of course they're yours, " he acknowledged. "We--we won't mention themagain, if it's your wish. "

"Indeed--indeed it is. They were just a cry for help--for a chance tolive--perhaps for a little happiness. Dr. Starr has now offered me allthese things and I have accepted--ever so gratefully. I--I had taken astep that was utter folly, yes, absolute madness. But now the mostwonderful good fortune has brought me the fulfilment of these desiresand I want to forget all the rest--the burning shame I have felt aswell as the terror with which I approached whatever was in store forme. That part of it will pass away like some bad dream, I hope. It's--it's kind of you not to insist on seeing these letters. "

"That's all right, Miss Nelson, " said the doctor, soothingly. "Hugo, my lad, you owe a good deal to your nurse and I'm glad that you'reproperly grateful and not unduly curious. "

But Hugo called Maigan to him, without answering, and patted theanimal's head, after which he remarked that the days were getting muchlonger. 

Came another day when the patient was able to get up, with the aid ofStefan and his nurse, and manifested the usual surprise of the strongman after illness. It was astonishing that his legs were so weak, andhe couldn't understand the dizzy sensations in his head. 

After a time he became able to use his arm a little, very cautiously, and his joy was great when it served him to handle a fork, for thefirst time since he had been ill. 

And so now she was standing beside these great falls, thinking verydeeply. She was disappointed at herself because she did not feelproperly happy and grateful; indeed, she was dropping in her ownestimation. If any one, a month before, had placed before her theprospect of honest toil among friendly faces, of usefulness that wouldbenefit her while gaining gratitude from others, she would have deemedherself the happiest woman in the world. Yes, the world should havebeen a very beautiful and kindly place, now that hunger and pain wereeliminated, now that the coming of spring would cause sap to surge upthe trees so that the branches would soon clothe themselves in thetender glory of new leafage. Her own existence was on the verge of afresh new growth that might lead to greater things, and yet shereproached herself because she could not become conscious of a realhappiness, of a glorious achievement that had been like an unexpectedmanna coming to starvelings in a desert. She felt nothing but a quietacquiescence in the new conditions and accepted her new destiny with asigh. 

She did not realize yet that in her soul a new longing had come, thatwould not be denied. 

She returned slowly to the shack where Hugo sat in an armchair broughtall the way from Carcajou on Stefan's sled. His arm was still in asling. It was fortunate that it was the left one, for he was verybusily engaged in writing. 

The girl waited for some time, leaning against the doorpost andwatching some chipping sparrows that had recently arrived and werethinking hard about nest-building in the neighboring bushes. 

The weeds and grasses and wild flowers were beginning to peep out ofthe ground, with the haste that is peculiar to northern lands wherelife is strenuous during the few months of warm fair weather. Thetender hues of the burgeoning birches and poplars, streaked with thegleaming silver of their trunks, were casting soft notes upon thestrong greens of the conifers and the indigo of their shadows. In thespray of the falls, to her left, a tiny rainbow seemed to dance, andthe loud song of the rushing waters was like the call of some greatloving voice. She reflected that she would have to go again to a placein which many people lived. It would not be like a city. The sametrees and the same waters and the same flowers would be there, veryclose at hand. Not a single house abutted against another. In thegardens there would be old-fashioned flowers such as she had beenfamiliar with at home, before she had sought the town. Dr. Starr haddescribed it all. Ten minutes' walk would take one beyond thehabitations of men, into woodlands and fields and by a lake thatextended into a far wilderness, upon which one could drive a canoe andfeel as if one owned a great and beautiful world, for men were seldomon it and above the surface it was peopled chiefly by great divingbirds and broods of ducklings. It all sounded, and doubtless was, perfectly ideal. 

But presently Hugo had finished his writing and was leaning back inhis chair. 

"Do you think you would like some of those nice fresh eggs Mrs. Papineau's little girl brought this morning?" she asked him. "Andwould you like me to close the door now?"

"Thanks, Miss Nelson, " he said, "I'm sure I should enjoy them ever somuch. They're a rather scarce commodity with us. Too many weasels andskunks and other chicken-eaters to make it a healthy country for hens. As to the door I'll be glad to have you close it if you feel cold. Butit's delightful for me to be sitting here all wrapped up in blanketsand taking in big lungfuls of our forest air. It--it makes a fellowfeel like a two-year-old. "

She was about to break the eggs into a pan when she noticed the letterlying on the table. 

"Would you like me to get you an envelope, for it?" she asked. 

"If you'll be so kind, " he assented, gravely. 

She would have offered to put the paper in the envelope for him also, but he managed it easily enough and closed the flap. 

"That's done, " he said. "I wonder what will come of it?"

To this she could not reply, so she prepared the eggs and brought themto him, with his tea and toast. 

"They're going to be ever so good, " he said, taking up a fork, afterwhich he stared out of the still-opened door. 

"If you don't eat them now, they'll be cold in a minute, " she warnedhim. 

"Oh, I'd forgotten! I must beg your pardon since you took so muchtrouble about them. "

He ate them slowly, as if performing some hard and solemn task. Whenhe had finished his meal, Madge cleared the table. 

"Is there anything else you would like?" she asked. "One of yourbooks?"

"No, I--I don't think I want to read, just now. I--I am feelingrather--rather disturbed for the moment. "

"What's the matter?" she inquired, solicitously. 

"It's this--this habit I've gotten into, " he said, "of having a--anurse at my side. It seems very strange that she will soon be gone. I've learnt to depend so much on. .. . And Stefan is coming to take youaway to Carcajou--and then over there to Dr. Starr's. Then I believeI'm to go and stay with the Papineaus, till I can handle a frying-panand an axe. The--the prospect is a dismal one. "

She took a little step towards him but he had bent over the letter andwas directing it. When this was done he stared at it for a moment and, unsteadily, handed it to the girl, with the writing down. 

"I--I would like you to deliver this for me, " he told her. "It is everso important and--and our post-office isn't very reliable, I'm afraid. But I know I can trust you. "

She looked at him in surprise and then she looked at the envelope. Toher intense amazement she read:

 Miss Madge Nelson, Roaring River. 

"What does this mean?" she asked, bewildered. 

"I--I'm afraid you will have to read it to find out, " he answered. 

She opened the door and rushed out. One fear was in her heart. Shedreaded to find money in it. How dared he offer to pay for what shehad done? She would lay the envelope on the table, with its contents, and quietly say--well, what could she say?

With the thing in her hand she walked down the path to the edge of thefalls, where she sat down on an old big trunk of birch fallen manyyears ago and partly covered with moss. For one or two long minutesshe held it in her lap, gazing at the rushing waters without seeingthem. A strange fluttering was at her heart, a curious trepidationthat was akin to intense fear caused her neck to throb, but her facewas very pale. Finally, with a swift gesture, she tore the envelopeopen and read:

 MY GOOD LITTLE NURSE:

 Those other letters were not from me but this one is: you saw me write it. It carries a thousand thanks for your kindness and devotion to your helpless patient. During those dreadfully long hours your presence was a blessing; it could soothe away the pain and bring hope and comfort. In a couple of weeks more I shall be as strong as ever, but I know that without you Roaring River will never be the same. You came here bravely, ready to marry a decent man who would help you bear the burdens of this world, which had proved too heavy for you. Of course the man must be honest and worthy of your trust. After all that you underwent from the first moment of your being left alone on the tote-road I cannot wonder at your desire to go away. But I feel that without you I could never have pulled through and that by this time the prospect of a life spent without you is unbearable. 

 I am not begging you humbly for your love. I don't want to owe it to your pity for the man who was so ill, to the deep charity and the kindness of a sweet and unselfish nature. That is why I couldn't speak out my longing for you and the love that fills my heart, lest I might surprise you into a hasty consent. I could not have restrained my emotion and I know I would have begged and implored--and that might have made it very hard and painful for you to refuse. 

 Please return to me after you have read and thought this over. If we are to remain but friends you will extend one hand to me and I shall know what it means. I daresay I shall survive that hurt as I survived the other. Have no fear for me. 

 But if you feel in your heart that you can give me all I long for, that you are willing to become my wife, then stretch both of those little hands to me, since it will take the two to carry such a precious gift. 

 Your hopeful and grateful patient, HUGO. 

After she had finished she tried to read the paper again, but it wastoo hard to see. For a moment she stared at the Roaring Falls throughthe misty veil of their spray. Thrusting the letter into her bosom shefound her feet, suddenly, and ran to the little shack. Hugo had risenand was standing in the doorway, his heart beating fast and his facevery pale. As Madge came near she uplifted both hands, but she couldhardly see him. Once more her eyes were suffused with tears, but itwas as if the glory of a wondrous sunlit world had been too strong forthem. She was smiling happily, however, when he took both little handsinto his right. 

"I--I hurried back, " she panted. "Neither--neither did I feelthat--that I could live without you--without this wonderful peace ofbeautiful Roaring River, and--and the love that it has brought tome!"

A few moments later they heard Big Stefan's familiar shout from thetote-road. The toboggan could no longer be used and he had driven overa shaggy old horse that had pulled a reliable buckboard. 

"Dot's yoost great!" he roared, as he saw Hugo standing outside theshack. "I tank I'm more pleased as if I find a dozen goldmines, youbet! De leetle leddy she safe you all right--all right. But now I takeher avay to Meester Doctor Starr, like he telt me to. De doctor he gifme a bit letter for you, ma'am. I find it soon. "

Two letters on a single day was heavy mail for Roaring River. Madgetore the last one open and read:

 My Dear Miss Nelson:

 Stefan has promised to bring you to us to-morrow. I want you to come, for my wife and the kiddies are awaiting you. From my latest study of conditions at Roaring River I have gathered that you may not stay with us as long as I had first hoped, but at any rate it will be long enough to do a little fixing and arranging of feminine garments. My instinct tells me that your visit to us will be short since our patient, if you tarry too long, may come and steal you away. He will have to come anyway for, just as I'm the nearest doctor to you, so my friend Jamieson is the nearest parson. 

 With every best wish, Very sincerely yours, DAVID STARR. 

Madge handed the letter over to Hugo who quickly looked it over. 

"Wonderful fellow is Starr, " he declared. 

Stefan took his friend Hugo up in his arms, in spite of protests onthe latter's part that he wanted to try to walk. The young man was alight load, indeed, at this time. He was placed on the seat of thebuckboard and, with Stefan carefully leading the horse and Madgewalking alongside, was taken up to Papineau's. 

The woodlands were very different now, thought the girl. When she hadarrived the great land was plunged in slumber under its mantle ofsnow. The few birds there were at the time were voiceless, like thepartridges that only find a peep when fluffy broods follow them, orsome of the larger fowl which only hoot or shriek. The sound-calls ofthe wilderness had been those of struggling waters, of cracking trees, of snow-masses violently displaced. But now birds were in full songeverywhere, carrying trifles of stick and floss and grass wherewith tobuild their nests. Formerly there had been the uneasy groans and sighsof a gigantic restless sleeper. Now there was the chant of aheart-free nature engaged again in vigorous toil, in wresting therecurrent glory of surging life and hope from the powers of darknessand bitter, benumbing cold. It was a resurrection!

The mile separating the shack from the Papineau homestead had been along and fatiguing one on the first occasion of Madge's going to seethe wounded man. Now the distance was trivial; a few sturdy steps, afew fillings of one's lungs with the scent of conifers; and there wasthe little chimney smoking and the cow with her little calf, and thedogs, and the few hens that had survived the attacks of weasels. Bestof all there were her friends, children and babies and the quietFrenchman and the kind-hearted, red-cheeked, cheery mother whoseinfluence had been paramount in creating a little paradise in thewilds. 

She helped Hugo off the buckboard, jealously, deeming herself the onlyone who could properly handle an invalid, and enthroned him in thebest chair, near the open fire. 

"You--you are h'all so velcome as I can't say, " she declared. 

"Miss Nelson is going away with Stefan in a few minutes, " said Hugo, cheerfully. 

At this Mrs. Papineau's face fell. She looked positively unhappy. 

"Some'ow, " she said, sniffing, "I always 'ope she stay 'ere h'all detime now. I--I never tink she go avay for good. De--de dogs and decalf and--an--de baby and chil'ren dey all love 'er. I h'awfulsorry. "

"But--but I'm coming back, Mrs. Papineau, " cried Madge. "I--I can'tlive away from--from Roaring River now!"

"Dey two iss ter be marrit!" roared Stefan. "Hey! What you tank? Itank so all de time, you bet!"

At this they all crowded around Madge, and such hand-shakings, andsuch kisses from the good woman and the children, and such joydepicted on all the faces! She thought that never a bride had receivedsuch heartfelt congratulations and good wishes. 

But in a couple of hours the old horse was quite rested and hadfinished the small bag of oats Stefan had brought and eaten plenty ofthe sweet-scented hay furnished by Papineau, and it was time to go. Strangely enough, at the last moment, the usually crowded house wasdeserted excepting by two, who found themselves in one another'sarms. 

"God bless you, Madge, " said the man. "I will come soon. "

"I shall be waiting, " answered the girl, simply. 

And so she rode away again, in the old buckboard that rolled andpitched and heaved and bucked so that very often she got off andwalked at the side of Stefan. 

Late that night she found herself in the doctor's home, after awonderful welcome from his wife and himself. The kiddies had been putto bed. 

"I--I feel that--that I am deserting you, that you trusted me to helpyou with a splendid work, " she said, with head bent down. 

"That is not so, " the man answered gravely. "Remember what I told youwhen I was trying to enlist you. I say that more than for any otherpurposes, we wanted women, good women, to come and become the mothersof the strong, fine breed that can alone master our wilderness. Hugois one of those fellows of brawn and brain who are working towards thecommon happiness in establishing his own. He needs a helper he canlove and trust and cherish, one who will in herself be the biggestreward he can ever gain, and make him feel that the bigger part of thepurpose of his life has been secured with your promise to marry him. To me the sick and the halt are paramount--but they will have to waita little. In some way or other they will be looked after, I promiseyou, for no man in a responsible position can be anything but aproblem-solver, in these places, and I'll find someone, never fear. "

"Yours will be the more important occupation now, my dear, " said thedoctor's wife; "you'll be in the front ranks of the fighters. "

So the doctor went away and the two women made the sewing-machine hum, and cut and basted and threaded needles. Together they managed to puttogether all that was indispensable and to discard the frivolous, asbecame the wives of pioneers. 

Two or three weeks went by very fast and one day Sophy McGurn, frombehind the shop-window, saw Hugo Ennis standing on the platform of thelittle station at Carcajou. With him was big Stefan, clad in his best, and the entire Papineau family. Most of the children were about totake the very first railway journey of their lives and the excitementwas intense and prolonged. Finally the train came puffing along andwent away again, panting on the upgrade, while Miss Sophy bit hernails hard. 

There is no doubt that Stefan had kept still, since he had beenrequested to. No one else in Carcajou knew anything as to theinwardness of the girl's coming, of Sophy's share in it, or of thediscovery by the doctor of the latter's duplicity. And yet there wasan element in Carcajou that frowned upon the young lady. Heraccusation had been reported far and wide. To the settlers of theplace her suspicions had seemed uncalled-for and bespeaking a mean andvicious disposition. Hugo, after all, had been everybody's friend. Hewas now about to marry this young woman from far-away New York. Thisutterly disproved Sophy's statements, wherefore she became moreunpopular than ever. A couple of hundred men had come over to work atthe sawmill, that was purring and grinding and shrieking again, allday and night. In the course of events they were learning all aboutthe matter, and some of the more ribald asked her jocular questions. It was annoying, to say the least, to have a big logger come in andask what were the news of the day, and if there was any more murderinggoing on. She projected to leave Carcajou as soon as she could, andmade her parents wish she would, as soon as possible. 

The party reached their station and walked over to the church, thatstood in what looked like a pasture, with great stumps of trees stilldotting the ground. About it was the very small beginning of agraveyard. With the years it would grow but always it would be sweptby the winds blowing aromatic scents from the forests beyond the lake. And about the church itself grew simple flowers, some of which werebeginning to twine themselves upon the walls. Madge came up the aisle, attended by Stefan and the doctor. Hugo met them, the emotion of themoment having caused some of the pallor to return to his cheeks. 

It was soon all over. At the doctor's house there was a little repast, followed by some simple words that sounded hopeful and strong. An hourlater the couple left, but not for a honeymoon in the towns. It was ina place reached after many hours of paddling, where the red troutabounded and the swallows darted over the waters. Here in their tentthey could do their own cooking, beginning the life that was to be oneof mutual help, of cheerful toil, of achievement and of happiness. 

When they came back to Carcajou again, Stefan was waiting for themwith a strong team of horses able easily to negotiate the tote-road. This highway, in many places, had been repaired. Fallen trees were cutacross and pulled to one side, swampy bits were corduroyed, big holeshad been filled in. Indeed, the traffic had become important, all of asudden, towards the Roaring Falls. Lumber had been hauled there, andmany tools, and kegs of nails, and a gang of men had walked over. 

Finally they came in sight of the river again, in which were no moreblack-looking, threatening air-holes. Mostly it was placid now, withrapids that could easily be passed over by ably-managed canoes orbateaux, succeeding the deep still waters now and then and frothingand fuming only as if in play. Here a big blue heron rose from it, andthere a couple of kingfishers jabbered and scolded and shrieked. Partridges crossed the road in front of the horses, and the inevitablerabbit scampered away in leisurely fashion. 

But they reached the little path that led to the shack without seeinganything of the tiny home or of the falls beyond, for the bushes andshrubs were in full foliage and seemed to be concealing their Edenfrom passers-by. Madge leaped from the wagon. Her kingdom was overthere, just a few rods away, and she was eager to see it again. 

Yes! The shack was still there, looking tinier than ever. But veryclose to it a foundation had been dug from which rose rough walls ofbroken stone. Upon these strong scantlings had been fastened and menwere clapboarding them over into a bigger and finer home. 

Above the trees some smoke was showing. It marked a place where ahalf-score shacks and little barracks were going up, to shelter themen who were to follow deeper those promising veins in the greatrocks. There would soon be blasting and more drilling and the breakingup of ore, which would be carried down the river to the railroad. Butfrom the edge of the great falls nothing of all this could be seen. Except for the new house everything seemed to be unchanged. It waswith a sentiment of a little awe, of gratefulness, of a surprise whichthe passing of the weeks had not yet been able to dispel, that Madgerealized that this was now her own, the place of her future toil, thespot where she was to found a home and fill it with happiness. 

It was marvelous! It was a thousand times more splendid than anythingshe could have conceived when first she was journeying to thiscountry. And the greatness of it lay in the fact that she understood, that she realized, that she knew that the whole world lay before herand her husband, to make or mar, to convert into a part of the greateffort that is always a joy, the upbuilding of a home, or to allow torevert into the wilderness again if strength were lacking. 

At first she could not step farther than the little spot from whichher dwelling-place first stood revealed. 

"What do you think of it, Madge?" asked her husband. 

"I think that if I had prayed all my life for a wonderful home, beforecoming here, I would never have been able to pray for anything sosplendid. Think of it--you and I--for years and years that will passever so swiftly, together in this glorious place and enjoying perfectpeace--the great peace of Roaring River!"

And the man stood by, his heart very full, his thoughts following herown, and a wave of happiness surged into his being, for all that wasbest in his former dreams was at his hand, since nothing but the womanat his side really counted. 

ZANE GREY'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list

THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS

A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center offrontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she iscaptured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to adelightful close. 

THE RAINBOW TRAIL

The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the greatwestern uplands--until at last love and faith awake. 

DESERT GOLD

The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and endswith the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to thegirl who is the story's heroine. 

RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE

A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormonauthority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme ofthe story. 

THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN

This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizonadesert and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons andgiant pines. "

THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT

A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love ayoung New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that thegirl shall become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that'sthe problem of this great story. 

THE SHORT STOP

The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fameand fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at thestart are followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage andhonesty ought to win. 

BETTY ZANE

This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautifulyoung sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. 

THE LONE STAR RANGER

After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlawalong the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, hefinds a young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth ishunted on one side by honest men, on the other by outlaws. 

THE BORDER LEGION

Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawlessWestern mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that sheloved him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by abandit band, and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--andnurses him to health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an outlaw, observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. Agold strike, a thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry youalong breathlessly. 

THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS, By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey

The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill, " as told byhis sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and hisfirst encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider, then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in themost dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interestingaccount of the travels of "The Wild West Show. " No character in publiclife makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than"Buffalo Bill, " whose daring and bravery made him famous. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. 

MICHAEL O'HALLORAN. Illustrated by Frances Rogers. 

Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in NorthernIndiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumesthe responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward andonward. 

LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. 

This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. Thestory is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the loveaffairs of older members of the family. Chief among them is that ofLaddie and the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in theneighborhood and about whose family there hangs a mystery. 

THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. 

"The Harvester, " is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book hadnothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods, " there begins aromance of the rarest idyllic quality. 

FRECKLES. Illustrated. 

Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in whichhe takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the greatLimberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbsto the charm of his engaging personality; and his love story with "TheAngel" are full of real sentiment. 

A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated. 

The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type ofthe self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindnesstowards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beautyof her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren andunpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage. 

AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors. 

The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. Thestory is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. 

THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL. Profusely illustrated. 

A love ideal of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy andhumor. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

KATHLEEN NORRIS' STORIES

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. 

MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 

This book has a fairy-story touch, counterbalanced by the sturdyreality of struggle, sacrifice, and resulting peace and power of amother's experiences. 

SATURDAY'S CHILD. 

Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes. 

Out on the Pacific coast a normal girl, obscure and lovely, makes aquest for happiness. She passes through three stages--poverty, wealthand service--and works out a creditable salvation. 

THE RICH MRS. BURGOYNE. 

Illustrated by Lucius H. Hitchcock. 

The story of a sensible woman who keeps within her means, refuses tobe swamped by social engagements, lives a normal human life of variedinterests, and has her own romance. 

THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE. 

Frontispiece by Allan Gilbert. 

How Julia Page, reared in rather unpromising surroundings, liftedherself through sheer determination to a higher plane of life. 

THE HEART OF RACHAEL. 

Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers. 

Rachael is called upon to solve many problems, and in working outthese, there is shown the beauty and strength of soul of one offiction's most appealing characters. 

Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap'slist. 

LAVENDER AND OLD LACE. 

A charming story of a quaint corner of New England, where bygoneromance finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming oflove to the young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one ofthe prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories. 

MASTER OF THE VINEYARD. 

A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of thecountry school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know herthrough her desire for books. She is happy in his love till anotherwoman comes into his life. But happiness and emancipation from hermany trials come to Rosemary at last. The book has a touch of humorand pathos that will appeal to every reader. 

OLD ROSE AND SILVER. 

A love story, --sentimental and humorous, --with the plot subordinate tothe character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisitedescriptions of picturesque spots and of lovely, old, rare treasures. 

A WEAVER OF DREAMS. 

This story tells of the love-affairs of three young people, with anold-fashioned romance in the background. A tiny dog plays an importantrole in serving as a foil for the heroine's talking ingeniousness. There is poetry, as well as tenderness and charm, in this tale of aweaver of dreams. 

A SPINNER IN THE SUN. 

An old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitudeand whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mysteryat the heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance. 

THE MASTER'S VIOLIN. 

A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old Germanvirtuoso consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves tohave an aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. Theyouth cannot express the love, the passion and the tragedies of lifeas can the master. But a girl comes into his life, and through hispassionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life has togive--and his soul awakes. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

THE NOVELS OF CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. 

JEWEL: A Chapter in Her Life. 

Illustrated by Maude and Genevieve Cowles. 

A story breathing the doctrine of love and patience as exemplified inthe life of a child. Jewel will never grow old because of theimmortality of her love. 

JEWEL'S STORY BOOK. Illustrated by Albert Schmitt. 

A sequel to "Jewel, " in which the same characteristics of love andcheerfulness touch and uplift the reader. 

THE INNER FLAME. Frontispiece in color. 

A young mining engineer, whose chief ambition is to become an artist, but who has no friends with whom to realize his hopes, has a wayopened to him to try his powers, and, of course, he is successful. 

THE RIGHT PRINCESS. 

At a fashionable Long Island resort, a stately English woman employs aforcible New England housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. Many humorous situations result. A delightful love affair runs throughit all. 

THE OPENED SHUTTERS. 

Illustrated with Scenes from the Photo Play. 

A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought to realize, by hernew friends, that she may open the shutters of her soul to the blessedsunlight of joy by casting aside self love. 

THE RIGHT TRACK. 

Frontispiece in color by Greene Blumenschien. 

A story of a young girl who marries for money so that she can enjoythings intellectual. Neglect of her husband and of her two stepchildren makes an unhappy home till a friend brings a new philosophyof happiness into the household. 

CLEVER BETSY. Illustrated by Rose O'Neill. 

The "Clever Betsy" was a boat--named for the unyielding spinster whomthe captain hoped to marry. Through the two Betsy's a delightful groupof people are introduced. 

Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. 

SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown. 

No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortalyoung people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscentof the time when the reader was Seventeen. 

PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant. 

This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous, tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is afinished, exquisite work. 

PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm. 

Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen, " this book contains some remarkablephases of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenileprankishness that have ever been written. 

THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers. 

Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against hisfather's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of afine girl turns Bibb's life from failure to success. 

THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece. 

A story of love and politics, --more especially a picture of a countryeditor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the loveinterest. 

THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. 

The "Flirt, " the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement, drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads anotherto lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromisingsuitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister. 

Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

JACK LONDON'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. 

JOHN BARLEYCORN. Illustrated by H. T. Dunn. 

This remarkable book is a record of the author's own amazingexperiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquaintedwith alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys anunforgettable idea and makes a typical Jack London book. 

THE VALLEY OF THE MOON. Frontispiece by George Harper. 

The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster andex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love andmarry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in theValley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be theirsalvation. 

BURNING DAYLIGHT. Four illustrations. 

The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundationsof his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunesto the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, andrecovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as amerciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to drinkingand becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls inlove with his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand andthen--but read the story!

A SON OF THE SUN. Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley. 

David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came fromEngland to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a nativeand as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The lifeappealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy. 

THE CALL OF THE WILD. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and CharlesLivingston Bull. Decorations by Charles E. Hooper. 

A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man's exploits could be. Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color totransport the reader to primitive scenes. 

THE SEA WOLF. Illustrated by W. J. Aylward. 

Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life intothe power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel ofadventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader willhail with delight. 

WHITE FANG. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull. 

"White Fang" is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozennorth; he gradually comes under the spell of man's companionship, andsurrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he isman's loving slave. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap'slist. 

CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and DellaWhitman are charmingly and humorously told. 

THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with theadventures of eighteen jovial, big-hearted Montana cowboys. 

HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who exchangea cottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house. 

THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between twofamilies, and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jollystory. 

THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience of anEastern author among the cowboys. 

THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the recollectionof a pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's plans. 

THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the freeoutdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story. 

GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch. 

FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals. 

THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the otherboys opposing a party of school teachers. 

THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hardfight on the uphill road to manliness. 

THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New Mexicoby the "Flying U" boys. 

THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bankrobbery for film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of gold. 

THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in California. 

STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery andadventure. 

THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, excitement and love. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK