etter than that? You've no right to
marry and have children!"

Somehow they apprehended the compassion that animated his anger, and
were not afraid of him. They lined up before him, mutely bespeaking
his assistance.

Their faith in his power to rescue them was implicit. That was what
made it impossible for him to refuse.

"Here," he said roughly. "You'll have to take my dugout. I'll get
another from Grampierre. You can make Moultrie in six days in that if
you work. That'll give you five pounds of flour a day--enough to keep
you alive."

The word "dugout" galvanized Alexander into action. Without a glance
in Ambrose's direction, he ran to the craft, and running it a little
way into the water rocked it from side to side to satisfy himself there
were no leaks.

Turning to his family he spoke a command in Cree, and forthwith they
began to pitch their bundles in.

Ambrose was accustomed to the thanklessness of the humbler natives.
They are like children, who look to the white man for everything, and
take what they can get as a matter of course. Still he was a little
nonplused by the excessive precipitation of this family.

It occurred to him there was something more in their desperate
eagerness to get away than Alexander's tale explained. But having
given his word, he could not take it back.

From father down to babe their faces expressed such relief and hope he
had not the heart to rebuke them. Alexander came to him for the food,
and he handed over all he had.

"Wait!" he said. "I will give you a letter for Peter Minot. Lord!" he
inwardly added. "Peter won't thank me for dumping this on him!"

On a leaf of his note-book he scribbled a few lines to his partner
explaining the situation.

"You understand," he said to Alexander, "out of your credit for the
black fox, John Gaviller must be paid what you owe him."

Alexander nodded indifferently, mad to get away.

As Alexander's squaw was about to get in the dugout she paused on the
stones and looked at Ambrose, her ugly, dark face working with emotion.
Her eyes were as piteous as a wounded animal's. She flung up her hands
in a gesture expressing her powerlessness to speak.

It seemed there was some gratitude in the family. Moved by a sudden
impulse she caught up Ambrose's hand and pressed it passionately to her
lips. The white man fell back astonished and abashed. Alexander paid
no attention at all.

In less than ten minutes after Ambrose ha