noemen bent unceasingly to
their paddles. Reindeer Lake was crossed by moonlight, and a late camp
was made a mile to the westward of the portage. The camp was fireless,
and the men talked in whispers. Later Lapierre joined them, and at the
first grey hint of dawn the outfit was again astir. By noon the
five-mile portage had been negotiated, and the canoes headed down Carp
Lake, which is the northmost reach of the Yellow Knife.

The following two days showed no diminution in the efforts of the
canoemen. The wounded man's condition remained unchanged. Lapierre's
canoe followed at a distance of a mile or two, and a hundred times a
day Chloe found herself listening with strained expectancy for the
sound of the shots that would proclaim that MacNair's Indians had
overtaken them. But no shots were fired, and it was with a feeling of
intense relief that the girl welcomed the sight of her own buildings as
they loomed in the clearing on the evening of the third day.

That night Lapierre visited Chloe in the cottage, where he found her
seated beside MacNair's bed, putting the finishing touches to a
swathing of fresh bandages.

"How is he doing?" he asked, with a nod toward the injured man.

"There is no change," answered the girl, as she indicated a chair close
beside a table, upon which were a tin basin, various bottles, and
porcelain cups containing medicine, and a small pile of antiseptic
tablets. For just an instant the man's glance rested upon the tablets,
and then swiftly swept the room. It was untenanted except for the girl
and the unconscious man on the bed.

"LeFroy, it seems, has improved his time," ventured Lapierre as he
accepted the proffered chair and drew from his pocket a thick packet of
papers. "His complete list of supplies," he smiled. "With these in
your storehouse you may well expect to seriously menace the trade of
both MacNair and the Hudson Bay Company's post at Fort Rae."

Chloe glanced at the list indifferently. "It seems, Mr. Lapierre, that
your mind is always upon trade--when it is not upon the killing of men."

The quarter-breed was quick to note the disapproval of her tone, and
hastened to reply. "Surely, Miss Elliston, you cannot believe that I
regard the killing of men as a pleasure; it is a matter of deep regret
to me that twice during the short period of our acquaintance I have
been called upon to shoot a fellow man."

"Only twice! How about the shot in the night--in the cam