sequences. To his
astonishment the bomb did not explode.

"What is that?" she asked, simply.

The man's jaw dropped and his eyes opened in astonishment. Here was a
density of ignorance in regard to the ordinary affairs of the Post
which could by no stretch of the imagination be ascribed to chance. If
Virginia Albret did not know the meaning of the term, and all the
tragic consequences it entailed, there could be but one conclusion:
Galen Albret had not intended that she should know. She had purposely
been left in ignorance, and a politic man would hesitate long before
daring to enlighten her. The Reverend Crane, in sheer terror, became
sullen.

"A Free Trader is a man who trades in opposition to the Company," said
he, cautiously.

"What great danger is he in?" the girl persisted with her catechism.

"None that I am aware of," replied Crane, suavely. "He is a very
ill-balanced and excitable young man."

Virginia's quick instincts recognized again the same barrier which,
with the people, with Wishkobun, with her father, had shut her so
effectively from the truth. Her power of femininity and position had
to give way before the man's fear for himself and of Galen Albret's
unexpressed wish. She asked a few more questions, received a few more
evasive replies, and left the little clergyman to recover as best he
might from a very trying evening.

Out in the night the girl hesitated in two minds as to what to do
next. She was excited, and resolved to finish the affair, but she
could not bring her courage to the point of questioning her father.
That the stranger was in antagonism to the Company, that he believed
himself to be in danger on that account, that he wanted succor, she
saw clearly enough. But the whole affair was vague, disquieting. She
wanted to see it plainly, know its reasons. And beneath her excitement
she recognized, with a catch of the breath, that she was afraid for
him. She had not time now to ask herself what it might mean; she only
realized the presence of the fact.

She turned instinctively in the direction of Doctor Cockburn's house.
Mrs. Cockburn was a plain little middle-aged woman with parted gray
hair and sweet, faded eyes. In the life of the place she was a
nonentity, and her tastes were homely and commonplace, but Virginia
liked her.

She proved to be at home, the Doctor still at his dispensary, which
was well. Virginia entered a small log room, passed through it
immediately to a larger pa