nd has the face of a spirit."

From the Fort Fyles watched the two. With a pair of field-glasses he
could follow their actions, could almost read their faces. "There'll
be a lot of sulking about those epaulettes, Mallory," he said at last,
turning to his clerk. "Old Athabasca has a bee in his bonnet."

"Wouldn't it be just as well to give 'em back, sir?" Mallory had been at
Fort Pentecost a long time, and he understood Athabasca and his Indians.
He was a solid, slow-thinking old fellow, but he had that wisdom of the
north which can turn from dove to serpent and from serpent to lion in
the moment.

"Give 'em back, Mallory? I'll see him in Jericho first, unless he goes
on his marrow-bones and kicks Konto out of the camp."

"Very well, sir. But I think we'd better keep an eye open."

"Eye open, be hanged! If he'd been going to riot he'd have done so
before this. Besides, the girl--!" Mallory looked long and earnestly at
his master, whose forehead was glued to the field-glass. His little eyes
moved as if in debate, his slow jaws opened once or twice. At last he
said: "I'd give the girl the go-by, Mr. Fyles, if I was you, unless I
meant to marry her." Fyles suddenly swung round. "Keep your place,
blast you, Mallory, and keep your morals too. One'd think you were a
missionary." Then with a sudden burst of anger: "Damn it all, if my men
don't stand by me against a pack of treacherous Indians, I'd better get
out."

"Your men will stand by you, sir: no fear. I've served three traders
here, and my record is pretty clean, Mr. Fyles. But I'll say it to your
face, whether you like it or not, that you're not as good a judge of the
Injin as me, or even Duc the cook: and that's straight as I can say it,
Mr. Fyles."

Fyles paced up and down in anger--not speaking; but presently threw up
the glass, and looked towards Athabasca's lodge. "They're gone," he said
presently; "I'll go and see them to-morrow. The old fool must do what I
want, or there'll be ructions."

The moon was high over Fort Pentecost when Athabasca entered the silent
yard. The dogs growled, but Indian dogs growl without reason, and no one
heeds them. The old chief stood a moment looking at the windows, upon
which slush-lights were throwing heavy shadows. He went to Fyles'
window: no one was in the room. He went to another: Mallory and Duc
were sitting at a table. Mallory had the epaulettes, looking at them
and fingering the hooks by which Athabasca had fastened t