prodigiously.

"I nefer thought you would be coming home to-night," he said.
"What brought ye at this time?"

"Never mind, Mac," said French. "Get the horses out, and Kalman
and I will unload this stuff."

In what seemed to be an outer shed, they deposited the pork, flour,
and other articles that composed the load. As Kalman seized the
straw-packed case to carry it in, French interfered.

"Here, boy, I'll take that," he said quickly.

"I'll not break them," said Kalman, lifting the case with great care.

"You won't, eh?" replied French in rather a shamed tone. "Do you know
what it is?"

"Why, sure," said Kalman. "Lots of that stuff used to come into our
home in Winnipeg."

"Well, let me have the case," said French. "And you needn't say
anything to Mac about it. Mac is all right, but a case of liquor
in the house makes him unhappy."

"Unhappy? Doesn't he drink any?"

"That's just it, my boy. He is unhappy while it's outside of him.
He's got Indian blood in him, you see, and he'd die for whiskey."
So saying, French took up the case and carried it to the inner
room and stowed it away under his bed.

But as he rose up from making this disposition of the dangerous stuff
Mac himself appeared in the room.

"What are you standing there looking at?" said French with unusual
impatience.

"Oh, nothing at all," said Mackenzie, whose strong Highland accent
went strangely with his soft Indian voice and his dark Indian face.
"It iss a good place for it, whatefer."

French stood for a moment in disgusted silence, and then breaking into
a laugh he said: "All right, Mac. There's no use trying to keep it
from you. But, mind you, it's fair play in this thing. Last time, you
remember, you got into trouble. I won't stand that sort of thing again."

"Oh, well, well," said Mackenzie cheerfully, "it will not be for long
anyway, more's the peety."

"Now then, get us a bite of supper, Mackenzie," said French sharply,
"and let us to bed."

Some wild duck and some bannock with black molasses, together with
strong black tea, made a palatable supper after a long day on the
breezy prairie. After supper the men sat smoking.

"The oats in, Mac?"

"They are sowed, but not harrowed yet. I will be doing that to-morrow
in the morning."

"Potato ground ready?"

"Yes, the ground is ready, and the seed is over at Garneau's."

"What in thunder were you waiting for? Those potatoes should have been
in ten days ago. It's hardly worth