presently two figures loomed
out of the shadow of the woods, and paused at the edge of them.

They were Indians in beaded buckskin, and each was laboring under a
burden of pelts which seemed unusually heavy for its size. They were
armed, too, with long rifles of a comparatively modern type.

Some moments passed while they surveyed the figure at the gates. Then,
after the exchange of a few words between themselves, they came
steadily on towards the Fort.

Murray waited. The men approached. Neither spoke until the men halted
in front of the trader and relieved themselves of their burdens. Then
it was that Murray spoke, and he spoke fluently in an Indian tongue.
The men responded in their brief spasmodic fashion. After which the
white man led the way into the store.

The incident was one such as might have occurred any time during these
days of busy trading. There was certainly nothing peculiar about it in
its general outline. And yet there was a subtle suggestion of
something peculiar in it. Perhaps it was in the weight of the bales of
pelts these men carried. Perhaps it was that Murray had addressed them
in a definite Indian tongue first, without waiting to ascertain whence
they hailed, or to what small tribe they belonged. Perhaps it was the
lateness of the hour, and the chance that Murray should be waiting
there after the day's work was completed, when it was his eager custom
to seek his evening meal down at Ailsa Mowbray's home, and spend his
brief leisure in company of Alec's sister.

It was nearly an hour before the two Indians reappeared. When they did
so the last of the splendid sunset had disappeared behind the distant
peaks. They left the Fort relieved of their goods, and bearing in
their hands certain bundles of trade. They hurried away down the slope
and vanished into the woods. And some minutes later the sound of the
dipping paddles came faintly up upon the still evening air.

Murray had not yet reappeared. And it was still some time before his
bulky form was visible hurrying down the short cut to the Mission
clearing.

The evening meal at Ailsa Mowbray's house was more than half over when
Murray appeared. He bustled into the little family circle, radiating
good humor and friendliness. There could be no doubt of his apparent
mood.

The comfort and homeliness of the atmosphere into which he plunged were
beyond words. The large room was well lit with good quality oil lamps,
whose