ince o' Wales says 'nyther.'"

Danvers, disdaining to notice the cheap wit, watched the brilliant
sunshine struggling through the lessening rain as it danced from eddy to
sand-bar, from rapids to half-submerged snags. The boiling river
whitened as the steamboat labored to deeper water above the rapids. The
islands, flushed with the fresh growth of a Northern spring, and the
newly formed shore-line where the capricious Missouri had recently
undermined a stretch of bank, gave character to the scene, as did the
delicately virent leaves of swirling willow, quaking aspens and
cottonwoods loosened from their place on shore to float in midstream.

A party of yelling Crees attracted their attention, and the stranger's
indifference gave a combative twist to Burroughs' remark:

"Them's Canadian Injuns."

Something in his tone made the men draw nearer. Was it a sneer? A slur
on all things English? A challenge to resent the statement, and
resenting, to show one's mettle? Frontiersmen on the upper Missouri
fought at a word in the early seventies. No need for cause. Men had been
shot for less animus than Burroughs displayed.

"A fight?" asked Scar Faced Charlie, drawn from the cabin.

"No; a prayer-meeting," Toe String Joe gave facetious answer.

"Run back to our stateroom, Winnie," said Charlie, as he glanced at
Burroughs' face. "What's the matter?" he inquired as she obeyed.

"Search me." Joe still acted as fourth dimension. "Bob and Danvers seem
to hate each other on sight."

Burroughs moved nearer the quiet trooper.

"The Mounted Police think they're goin' to stop whiskey sellin' to the
Injuns," he began. "But they can't. I know----" A meaning wink at his
friends implied disloyalty even in the Force.

The baited youth faced the trader, his countenance darkening. But his
hand unclasped as he started for the cabin with Latimer. Why notice this
loud talk? Why debase himself by fighting this unknown bully? His
bearing voiced his thoughts. The expectant crowd looked noncommittally
at the tall smokestacks, at the snags. Burroughs laughed noisily.

"'The widdy at Windsor' 's got another pretty!" he taunted. Hate flared
suddenly from his deep-set eyes; he could not have analyzed its cause.
"Jes' cut loose from home an' mammy," he continued, intemperately.
"Perhaps he's the queen's latest favorite, boys. We all know what women
are!"

What was it? A crash of thunder? A living bolt of fire? Something threw
the intervening men