net, and some fish-hooks.

"It iss a regular outfit you will be wanting," remarked the
store-keeper, as he handed over the various articles.

O no--not a regular one--only a very little one, considering the length
of time he should be away, and the wealth with which he would return.
But again he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten something else.

"Well, what iss it?"

Some glover's needles and sinews for making leather coats and moccasins.
Needles and thread and scissors, for it was quite clear that people
could not live without suitable clothing. A new capote, also, and--
and--a yard or two of scarlet cloth with a few beads.

As he made the last request, La Certe attempted to speak insinuatingly,
and to look humble.

"Come, that iss pure extravagance," said McKay, remonstrating.

La Certe could not, dare not, face his wife without these articles. He
pleaded earnestly. "Slowfoot is so clever wi' the needle," he said.
"See! she send you a pair of moccasins."

The wily man here drew from the breast of his capote a pair of
beautifully made moccasins, soft as chamois leather, and richly
ornamented with dyed quills of the porcupine.

McKay laughed; nevertheless he swallowed the bait and was pleased. He
finally handed the goods to La Certe, who, when he had obtained all that
he could possibly squeeze out of the store-keeper, bundled up the whole,
made many solemn protestations of gratitude and honest intentions, and
went off to cheer Slowfoot with the news of his success.

It chanced that Antoine Dechamp, the very man about whom he had been
talking to Duncan McKay, had dropped in to see him and his spouse, and
was sitting beside the fire smoking when he entered. Displaying his
possessions with much pride, he assured Dechamp that he had paid for the
whole outfit, and meant to return in the spring a rich man with means
enough to buy a horse and cart, and start with the buffalo-hunters for
the plains.

"You have a horse to sell--they say?" he remarked to his friend in a
careless way.

"Yes--and a good one too," answered Dechamp.

"Well, if you will loan him to me in the spring, I will pay for him when
I come back. It takes all I have to fit me out to start, you see."

Dechamp did not quite see his way to that--but there was plenty of time
to think over it!

"Have you heard," said Dechamp, willing to change the subject, "there is
some talk that Perrin has been killed? George McDermid was out, like