ankets. I have
the greatest faith in blankets, sir; the greatest faith. I have rolled
myself in wet blankets in mid-winter when suffering from a severe cold,
and have come forth perfectly recovered. You remember the Elk Valley,
Perault?"

"Oui, for sure. I say dat tam ole boss blam-fool. Hees cough! cough!
ver' bad. Nex' mornin', by gar! he's all right."

"And will be again soon, Perault, my boy, by the help of these same
blankets," said the old man confidently. "But how to negotiate the
business is the question now."

"Let me try, sir. I have had some little experience in helping men with
broken bones and the like," said Shock.

"You're at least entitled to confidence, Mr. Macgregor," replied the
Old Prospector. "Faith is the reflection of experience. I resign myself
into your hands."

In half an hour, with Perault's assistance, Shock had the old man
between heated blankets, exhausted with pain, but resting comfortably.

"Mr. Macgregor," said the old man, taking Shock by the hand, "I have
found that life sooner or later brings opportunity to discharge every
obligation. Such an opportunity I shall eagerly await."

"I have done no more than any man should," replied Shock simply. "And I
am only glad to have had the chance."

"Chance!" echoed the Old Prospector. "I have found that we make our
chances, sir. But now you will require lodging. I regret I cannot offer
you hospitality. Perault, go down to the Stopping Place, present my
compliments to Carroll and ask him to give Mr. Macgregor the best
accommodation he has. The best is none too good. And, Perault, we shall
need another pony and a new outfit. In a few days we must be on the
move again. See Carroll about these things and report. Meantime, Mr.
Macgregor, you will remain with us to tea."

"Carroll!" exclaimed Perault in a tone of disgust. "Dat man no good
'tall. I get you one pony cheap. Dat Carroll he's one beeg tief."

The little Frenchman's eyes glittered with hate.

"Perault," replied the Old Prospector quietly, "I quite understand you
have your own quarrel with Carroll, but these are my affairs. Carroll
will not cheat me."

"Ah! Bah!" spat Perault in a vicious undertone of disgust. "De ole boss
he blam-fool. He not see noting." And Perault departed, grumbling and
swearing, to make his deal with Carroll.

Timothy Carroll was a man altogether remarkable, even in that country
of remarkable men. Of his past history little was known. At one time a
Hud