lum, man," began Mackenzie in pleasant salutation.

"My name is Kalman," snapped the boy.

"Never mind, it iss a good name, whatefer. But I am saying we will
be getting into the pitaties after breakfast. Can ye drop pitaties?"

"Show me how," said Kalman shortly.

"And that I will," said Mackenzie affably, helping himself to the bottle.

"How many bottles of that stuff are there left?" asked Kalman
disgustedly.

"And why would you be wanting to know?" enquired Mackenzie
cautiously. "You would not be taking any of the whiskey yourself?"
he added in grave reproof.

"Oh, go on! you old fool!" replied the boy angrily. "You will never
be any good till it is all done, I know."

Kalman spoke out of full and varied experience of the ways of men
with the lust of drink in them.

"Well, well, maybe so. But the more there iss for me, the less
there iss for him," said Mackenzie, jerking his head toward the
inner door.

"Why not empty it out?" said Kalman in an eager undertone.

"Hoot! toot! man, and would you be guilty of sinful waste like yon?
No, no, never with Malcolm Mackenzie's consent. And you would not
be doing such a deed yourself?" Mackenzie enquired somewhat anxiously.

Kalman shook his head.

"No," he said, "he might be angry. But," continued the boy, "those
potatoes must be finished to-day. I heard him speaking about them
yesterday."

"And that iss true enough. They are two weeks late now."

"Come on, then," cried Kalman, as Mackenzie reached for the bottle.
"Come and show me how."

"There iss no hurry," said the deliberate Mackenzie, drinking his
glass with slow relish. "But first the pitaties are to be got over
from Garneau's."

Again and again, and with increasing rage, Kalman sought to drag
Mackenzie away from his bottle and to his work. By the time the
bottle was done Mackenzie was once more helpless.

Three days later French came forth from his room, haggard and
trembling, to find every bottle empty, Mackenzie making ineffective
attempts to prepare a meal, and Kalman nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the boy?" he enquired of Mackenzie in an uncertain voice.

"I know not," said Mackenzie.

"Go and look for him, then, you idiot!"

In a short time French was summoned by Mackenzie's voice.

"Come here, will you?" he was crying. "Come here and see this thing."

With a dread of some nameless horror in his heart, French hurried
toward the little knoll upon which Mackenzie stood. From this
vant