ir own
mysterious way had simply disappeared.

Without them, the half dozen whites could do nothing against Ambrose's
strong party. Colina herself had suffered a moral defeat, and required
time to recoup her losses.

In the back of the store the white men and Gordon Strange held lengthy
consultations without agreeing on any course of action. Strange in his
modest way deferred to Macfarlane and the others.

But John Gaviller's absolute sway at the post had sapped the lesser
men's initiative. He was not able to be present, and they were
helpless.

It was decided to send for help to police headquarters at Caribou Lake.
They could not despatch the big steam-boat which had been dismantled
for the winter, but the launch was available.

Gaviller had it to use at the end of summer when the water ran low in
the river. They managed to collect enough half-breeds for a crew;
Masters ran the engine, and Captain Stinson piloted.

Thus in order to send for help the little force had to rob itself of
two of its best defenders. They got away in the middle of the
afternoon. With luck they could be back with the red-coats in two
weeks or three.

Meanwhile the mill was grinding blithely.

Ambrose, who desired at all costs to keep the Indians in ignorance of
what was happening, for fear they might get out of hand, sent Germain
Grampierre to his father's house to get what little flour they had, and
carry it to Watusk to feed the Kakisas for that day.

As far as he could see there was no other communication from one side
of the river to the other. He observed the departure of the launch,
with a calm brow. He guessed its errand, and was not at all averse to
having the police brought down, and the whole matter thoroughly aired.

All day the wheels revolved, and all during the following night,
Ambrose and young Greer watching the machine by turn.

At breakfast time on the second morning the hopper was empty, and the
last bag of flour tied up. They had enough to satisfy the Kakisas
demands, and something besides.

In the center of the shed Ambrose left the miller's tithe in payment,
with an ironical note affixed to one of the bags. The flour was loaded
in the york boat, and the entire party set off in high feather.

Their arrival with the flour at the Indian camp created something of a
sensation. The children came running down to the water, capering and
shrieking, accompanied by the barking dogs.

Men followed, eager t