in the charge of Little One Man years
ago, and with Snake Foot and Charlie, to learn the business of pelt
hunting. Then when I'd learned all she reckoned I need she lay around
and figgered things out further. It was all done without fuss, it was
all done in a small way so my step-father shouldn't guess the meaning.
She just grew me into a pelt hunter who he thought some day would be
useful hunting for him, and he was kind of pleased. Oh, yes, I hunt for
him, but for every dollar I make for him there's five for myself. And
those five are hidden deep so he'll never find them. I've done this five
seasons, and my sick mother reckons this is to be my last. She guesses
she'll never see another spring, and she wants to see me with five
thousand dollars clear when I get back to home. Then, when she's gone,
she wants me to hit the trail quick. She wants me to take Little One Man
and Snake Foot and Charlie with me, and, with my five thousand dollars,
she wants me to look around beyond my step-father's reach, and make good
in the craft I've learned. With that thought in her mind she guesses to
lie easy in the grave she reckons I'll see is made right for her. That's
my 'necessity' and it's big--if you could only see into the notions of
two women."

Marcel listened without a word of comment. And as he listened his eyes
hardened, and the youthful curves about his lips drew tight into fine
lines. For all his inexperience of the lives of others the story set a
fierce anger raging in his hot, impulsive heart. The unthinkable to him
was a man who could so beset a woman.

He nodded.

"And you trade the pelts with Lorson Harris?" he said.

"Sure." Keeko smiled up into his face. It was the shrewd smile of one
who approves her own subtlety. "But I divide the catch before I make
home. Five-sixths are for me. And I set them aside, and Little One Man
helps me cache them. The rest is the catch I hand my step-father. He
makes careful tab of it, and then, after a rest, I set out with the dogs
over the winter trail for Seal Bay to make trade. Oh, it's easy. We pick
up the cache as we go, and trade the whole, and I just hand my
step-father the price of the furs he's tabbed."

The girl's smile was infectious.

"It's bright," Marcel cried. "And--and I'm glad." Then his eyes sobered
at the thought of his own purpose. "It's easy, too," he went on eagerly.
"But it's going to be easier. We'll fool this--cur. We'll fool him as he
doesn't dream. Say,