y natural that now--

"Of course," came his answer. "Come, I'll have you made comfortable in
the cottage." Then, as he started away, "May I see you, Ba'tiste,
sometime to-night?"

"Ah, _oui_." The Canadian was moving toward his wagon and the waiting
dog. "In the cabin."

Three hours later, the last of the men paid off, Agnes installed in the
best of three little cottages in care of the motherly old cook, Barry
Houston approached the door of Ba'tiste's cabin, the wolf-dog, who had
picked him up a hundred yards away, trotting beside him. There was a
light within; in the shadows by the grave, a form moved,--old Lost
Wing. Medaine was there, then. Barry raised his hand to knock,--and
halted. His name had been mentioned angrily; then again,--followed by
the voice of the girl:

"I don't know what it is, Ba'tiste. Fred wouldn't tell me, except that
it was something too horrible for me to know. And I simply can't do
what you say. I can't be pleasant to him when I feel this way."

"But--"

"Oh, I know. I want to be fair, and I try to be. I speak to him when
I meet him; isn't that enough? We're not old friends; we're hardly
even acquaintances. And if there is something in his past to be
ashamed of, isn't it best that we simply remain that way? I--"

Then she ceased. Houston had knocked on the door. A second later, he
entered the cabin, to return Medaine Robinette's cool but polite
greeting in kind, and to look apprehensively toward Ba'tiste Renaud.
But the old man's smile was genuine.

"We have been talk' about you, _oui_, yes!" he said. "Eh, Medaine?"

It was one of his thrusts. The girl colored, then turned toward the
door.

"I'm afraid I've stayed longer than I intended," she apologized. "It's
late. Good night."

Then she was gone. Houston looked at Ba'tiste, but the old
French-Canadian merely waved a big hand.

"Woman," he said airily, "peuff! She is strange. Eet is nothing. Eet
will pass. Now," as though the subject had been dismissed, "what mus'
Ba'teese do?"

"At the mill? I wish, if you don't mind, that you'd guard it for me.
I'm going to Denver on the morning train to hire a new crew. I don't
want Thayer to do anything to the mill in my absence."

"Ah, _oui_. It shall be. You will sleep here?"

"If you don't mind? It's nearer Tabernacle."

"Bon--good! Golemar!" And the dog scratched at the door. "Come, we
shall go to the mill. We are the watchmen, yes?"

"But I d