e scene held nothing of repugnance to the girl, who was
conscious only of a feeling of peace and security. She even smiled
into the eyes of her deliverer, who had turned his attention from his
canoemen and stood before her, his soft-brimmed Stetson in his hand.

"Oh! I--I thank you!" exclaimed the girl, at a loss for words.

The man bowed low. "It is nothing. I am glad to have been of some
slight service." Something in the tone of the well-modulated voice,
the correct speech, the courtly manner, thrilled the girl strangely.
It was all so unexpected--so out of place, here in the wild. She felt
the warm colour mount to her face.

"Who are you?" she asked abruptly.

"I am Pierre Lapierre," answered the man in the same low voice.

In spite of herself, Chloe started slightly, and instantly she knew
that the man had noticed. He smiled, with just an appreciable
tightening at the corners of the mouth, and his eyes narrowed almost
imperceptibly. He continued:

"And now, Miss Elliston, if you will retire to your tent for a few
moments, I will have these removed." He indicated the bodies. "You
see, I know your name. The good Chenoine told me. He it was who
warned me of Vermilion's plot in time for me to frustrate it. Of
course, I should have rescued you later. I hold myself responsible for
the safe conduct of all who travel in my scows. But it would have been
at the expense of much time and labour, and, very possibly, of human
life as well--an incident regrettable always, but not always avoidable."

Chloe nodded, and, with her thoughts in a whirl of confusion, turned
and entered her tent, where Harriet Penny lay sobbing hysterically,
with her blankets drawn over her head.

CHAPTER III

PIERRE LAPIERRE

A half-hour later, when Chloe again ventured from the tent, all
evidence of the struggle had disappeared. The bodies of the two dead
men had been removed, and the canoemen were busily engaged in gathering
together and restoring the freight pieces that had been ripped open by
the scowmen.

Lapierre advanced to meet her, his carefully creased Stetson in hand.

"I have sent word for the other scows to come on at once, and in the
meantime, while my men attend to the freight, may we not talk?"

Chloe assented, and the two seated themselves upon a log. It was then,
for the first time that the girl noticed that one side of Lapierre's
face--the side he had managed to keep turned from her--was battered a