child, held by a man with a scarred face. His
involuntary look of amazement changed the pensiveness of her delicate
face to animation, and she returned his smile. This unexpected exchange
of friendship restored his self-respect and his anger evaporated. He
recalled the childhood spent in English lanes with his only sister. He
beckoned enticingly, and soon she came near, shy and lovely.

"What's your name, little girl?"

"Winifred."

"That's a pretty name," said the young trooper. "Are you going to Fort
Benton with your papa?"

"No. Papa's dead--and--mamma. That's my brother," indicating the man who
had held her. "He came to get me. His name is Charlie."

"Dear little girl!" thought Philip Danvers, as the child ran to
brotherly arms.

"Howdy!" Charlie gave unconventional greeting as he took a bench near
by.

"I've been getting acquainted with your sister," explained the
Englishman.

"Glad of it. Winnie's afraid of most o' the men, an' there aren't more'n
three white women up the river. I've had to bring her back with me, and
I don't know much about children. But there's one good old lady at
Benton," the frontiersman proceeded, cheerfully. "She'll look after her.
You see, I'm away most of the time. I'm a freighter between the head of
navigation and the Whoop Up Country--Fort Macleod."

"Oh!"

"I got the contract to haul the supplies for the North West Mounted
Police this spring. I'll be in Fort Macleod 'most as soon as you, I
reckon. What is it, Winnie?" he questioned, as the child drew shrinking
closer to him.

"I don't like that man," asserted Winifred, as Robert Burroughs passed.

"You mustn't say that, Winnie," reproved Charlie.
"Burroughs"--addressing Philip--"Sweet Oil Bob, we call him, is goin' to
start a new tradin' post at Macleod. He's clerked at Fort Benton till he
knows more about the profits of an Injun tradin' post than any man on
the river! Yeh'll likely see quite a little o' him. Most of the Canadian
traders 'd rather he stayed this side o' the line."

"Surely there are other American traders in this Whoop Up Country, as
you call it."

"Not so many--no. But Sweet Oil Bob is shrewd, an' the Canadians are
afraid he'll get the biggest share o' the Injun trade. You know how it
is."

Before Danvers could answer, his attention was caught by:

"The ambition of my life is to sit on the supreme bench of some State,"
spoken by a fair-haired young man as he passed with a taller, older one.
"Mon