others. "Cameron sent word
he'd have McDonell dead or alive. If he doesn't give himself up, this
fort'll go and the whole settlement be massacred."

"Been altogether too high-handed anyway," answered another. "I'm loyal
to my company; but Lord Selkirk can't set up a military despotism here.
Been altogether better if we'd left the Nor'-Westers alone."

"It's all the fault of that cocky little martinet," declared a third.

"I say," exclaimed a man joining the group, "d' y' hear the news? All
the chiefs in there--" jerking his thumb towards a side door--"are
advising Captain McDonell to give himself up and save the fort."

"Good thing. Who'll miss him? He'll only get a free trip to Montreal,"
remarked one of the aggressives in this group. "I tell you, men, both
companies have gone a deal too far in this little slap-back game to be
keen for legal investigation. Why, at Souris, everybody knows----"

He lowered his voice and I unconsciously moved from my dark corner to
hear the rest.

"Hoo are ye, gillie?" said the burly Scot in my ear.

Turning, I found the canny swain had followed me on an investigating
tour. Again I gave him an inarticulate reply and lost myself among other
coteries. Was the man spying on me? I reflected that if "the chiefs"--as
the Hudson's Bay man had called them--were in the side room, Eric
Hamilton would be among these conferring with the governor. As I
approached the door, I noticed my Scotch friend had taken some one into
his confidence and two men were now on my tracks. Lifting the latch, I
gave a gentle, cautious push and the hinges swung so quietly I had
slipped into the room before those inside or out could prevent me. I
found myself in the middle of a long apartment with low, sloping
ceiling, and deep window recesses. It had evidently been partitioned off
from the main hall; for the wall, ceiling and floor made an exact
triangle. At one end of the place was a table. Round this was a group of
men deeply engrossed in some sort of conference. Sitting on the window
sills and lounging round the box stove behind the table were others of
our rival's service. I saw at once it would be difficult to have access
to Hamilton. He was lying on a stretcher within talking range of the
table and had one arm in a sling. Now, I hold it is harder for the
unpractised man to play the spy with everything in his favor, than for
the adept to act that role against the impossible. One is without the
art that foils