with an assumed
air of indifference. I was satisfied that no Sioux were present. They
were all wood Indians--as distinguished from the fiercer tribe of the
plains--but they were in stronger numbers than was customary at this
time of the year.

What I was seeking I did not find here. I scanned each face in turn, but
all present in the outer room were unmistakably redskins.

"You are doing a lively business this morning," I remarked to the
factor.

"Yes; I am having quite a run," he replied. "I can't exactly account for
it." In a lower tone he added: "Every man of them is purchasing powder
and shot, Denzil."

This seemed a partial confirmation of my suspicions.

"It's queer, to say the least," I answered. "I wouldn't sell them much.
Tell them you're running short."

"They won't believe that," said Griffith Hawke.

"Stay and lend me a hand, Denzil, if you've nothing else to do."

"I'll come back in a moment," I replied. "I've got a little matter to
attend to. I may want you to help me. If I shout for you, close the
grating and run out."

Griffith Hawke's eyes dilated, and in a tone of astonishment he demanded
to know what I meant. But I did not wait to answer him. I slipped
unheeding out of the trading house, turned the corner and almost ran
into a big savage who was coming from the rear of the inclosure--a place
in which he had no business to be.

He was apparently an Assiniboin brave, decked out in cariboo robe and
blanket, fringed leggings, and beaded moccasins. But his cheek bones
were not prominent enough for an Indian, and when he saw me a ruddy
color flashed through the sickly copper of his skin and a menacing look
shone in his eyes.

And I, at the first glimpse, knew that the fellow was no more of a
redskin than myself. I had rightly interpreted the bit of birch bark,
which meant that a white man--a spy of the Northwest Company--would be
found within the fort disguised as an Indian. I was convinced that the
object of my search stood before me, and I even had a lurking suspicion
that the rogue was none other than Cuthbert. Mackenzie, though he was
too cleverly disguised for me to feel certain of that fact.

All this passed through my mind in much less time than it takes to tell.
I was on the alert, and let slip no sign that might betray my quest. And
no sooner had our eyes met than the Indian's agitation vanished, and he
looked at me with a proud and stolid expression.

"What are you doing here?" I