o one 'ud ever 'a'
found whar the yeller come from. It 'ud 'a' been a real fine game--a
jo-dandy game. An' it's worked clear out?" he asked again, as though to
make certain that he had heard aright.

"Bottomed right down to the bedrock. Maybe ye'd like to see fer
yourself?"

"Guess I ken take your word, boys; ye ain't the sort to lie to a pal.
I'm real sorry." He paused and shifted his position. Then he went on
with a slightly cunning look. "I 'lows you're like to take a run down to
Edmonton one o' these days. A feller mostly likes to make things hum
when he's got a good wad." Gagnon's tone was purely conversational. But
his object must have been plain to any one else. He was bitterly
resentful at the working out of the placer mine, and his anger always
sent his thoughts into crooked channels. His nature was a curious one;
he was honest enough, although avaricious, while his own ends were
served. It was different when he was balked.

"We don't notion a city any," said Nick, simply.

"Things is confusin' to judge by the yarns folks tell," added Ralph,
with a shake of his shaggy head.

"Them fellers as comes up to your shack, Victor, mostly talks o' drink,
an' shootin', an'--an' women," Nick went on. "Guess the hills'll do us.
Maybe when we've done wi' graft an' feel that it 'ud be good to laze,
likely we'll go down an' buy a homestead on the prairie. Maybe, I sez."

Nick spoke dubiously, like a man who does not convince himself.

"Hah, that's 'cause you've never been to a city," said the Breed
sharply.

"Jest so," observed Ralph quietly, between the puffs at his pipe.

Gagnon laughed silently. His eyes were very bright and he looked from
one brother to the other with appreciation. An idea had occurred to him
and he was mentally probing the possibilities of carrying it out. What
he saw pleased him, for he continued to smile.

"Well, well, maybe you're right," he said indulgently. Then silence
fell.

Each man was rapt in his own thoughts, and talk without a definite
object was foreign to at least two of the three. The brothers were
waiting in their stolid Indian fashion for sleep to come. The trader was
thinking hard behind his lowered eyelids, which were almost hidden by
the thick smoke which rose from his pipe.

The fire burned down and was replenished. Ralph rose and gathered the
pannikins and threw them into a biscuit-box. Then he laid out his
blankets while Nick went over and bolted the door. Still the