ld never again follow him to the Crossing, or interfere when he
was not master of himself. It was a hard promise to give, but once
given, that settled the matter for both. With Brown he never
discussed Jack French's weakness, but every Sunday afternoon, when
in his own home Brown prayed for friends near and dear, committing
them into the Heavenly Father's keeping, in their minds, chiefly
and before all others was the man whom they had all come to love as
an elder brother, and for whose redemption they were ready to lay
down their lives. And this was the strongest strand in the bond
that bound Kalman and his friend together. So to Brown Kalman went
with his plans for the coming summer, and with most happy results.
For through the spring and summer, following Brown's advice and
under Kalman's immediate directions, a strong force of Galicians
with horse teams and ox teams were kept hard at work, breaking
and back-setting, in anticipation of an early sowing in the
following spring. In the meantime Brown himself was full of work.
The addition to his hospital was almost always full of patients;
his school had begun to come back to him again, for the gratitude
of his warm-hearted Galician people, in return for his many services
to their sick and suffering, sufficed to overcome their fear of the
Polish priest, whose unpriestly habits and whose mercenary spirit
were fast turning against him even the most loyal of his people.
In the expressive words of old Portnoff, who, it is to be feared,
had little religion in his soul, was summed up the general opinion:
"Dat Klazowski bad man. He drink, drink all time, take money,
money for everyting. He damn school, send doctor man hell fire,"
the meaning of which was abundantly obvious to both Brown and his wife.

So full of work were they all, both at the ranch and at Wakota, that
almost without their knowing it the summer had gone, and autumn, with
its golden glorious days, nippy evenings, and brilliant starry nights,
Canada's most delightful season, was upon them. Throughout the summer
the construction gangs had steadily worked their way north and west,
and had crossed the Saskatchewan, and were approaching the Eagle Hill
country. Preceding the construction army, and following it, were camp
followers and attendants of various kinds. On the one hand the
unlicensed trader and whiskey pedlar, the bane of the contractor
and engineer; on the other hand the tourist, the capitalist, and
the sp