our store and all we possessed has been burnt
by your precious countrymen."

La Certe knew this, and professed himself profoundly grieved as well as
indignant with his countrymen. No, he did not come to buy or to borrow,
but to hire. The McKays had still some horses left, and carts. Could
they not spare a horse and cart to him on hire?

"No, we can do nothing of the sort," said Duncan shortly, resuming his
axe and work. "You can go to the Company. Perhaps they will trust
you--though they are fools if they do."

La Certe was regretful, but not cast down. He changed the subject,
commented on the building that was going on, the prospects of a good
harvest, and finally took refuge in that stale old subject, the weather.
Then he said in a casual way--as if it had just occurred to him--

"By the way--that knife that my wife got from Marie Blanc--"

Young McKay stopped, and looked quickly up for a moment, with a slight
flush, but instantly resumed work.

"Well," he said, quietly, "what about the knife?"

"Would you like to have it--my wife bade me inquire?"

"Why should _I_ like to have it?" he asked carelessly.

"Oh! I thought it was yours," said La Certe.

"You are mistaken. I said it was very like mine. But it is _not_
mine--and I have no wish for what does not belong to me."

"Of course not. Well, I must be going," said the half-breed, preparing
to leave. "I wished much to have your horse and cart, for they are both
good, and I would offer you 4 pounds for the trip, which, you know, is
double the usual charge, for I never grudge a good price for a good
thing."

"Yes, all the more when you hev no intention to pay it," said McKay with
a laugh. "However, since you seem so anxious, and offer so good a
price, I am willing to oblige you this time, in the hope that you are
really becoming an honest man!"

The half-breed was profuse in his thanks, and in his assurance that
Cloudbrow's hopes would certainly not be disappointed.

Having thus attained his chief object, our arch-beggar went off to
obtain provisions. Those which had been supplied him the previous
autumn by young McKay had been quite consumed by himself and his
friends--for the man, you see, had a liberal heart and hand.

But his first attempts were unsuccessful. He wanted ammunition. To go
to the plains without ammunition was obviously useless. He wanted
food--sugar, tea, flour, pork. To go to the plains without these would
be dreary