must be
another reason for his thoughtfulness this morning.

He remembered what hints Owen had let fall concerning the old factor
connected with the Hudson Bay post, and that there had been trouble
between them; many things gave Cuthbert the opinion that the other had
been fleeing from the region at that time they made his acquaintance so
strangely, not in terror, but rather in anger, and he felt sure strange
happenings had been taking place at the post on the day preceding the
storm.

If so, then it was the fact that he must evidently soon face the stern
factor again that disquieted Owen so; the way in which he tried hard to
throw off his morose mood, and answer the sallies of his comrades in a
spirit of frolic proved that he was fighting against his nature, and had
laid out a course which he was determined to tread, no matter what pain
or distress it brought in its train.

At any rate, it would soon appear what ailed the lad, and Cuthbert,
greatly as he wished to know Owen's story, had too much delicacy to
influence him in the telling; he had promised to open his heart to this
new and sympathetic chum, and all would come when the spirit moved.

About an hour after leaving camp they suddenly came upon two bullboats
that were descending the river swiftly, in each of which a trio of Cree
Indians sat or knelt, wielding the paddles after the deft manner of
those with whom the art has become second nature.

Cuthbert did not anticipate any trouble from these fellows, who were
evidently in the employ of the fur company; but he was keen to notice
how they took the presence of the young Canadian in the company of
strangers, realizing that they must in all probability know him, and be
acquainted with whatever of trouble had hovered around him of late.

Just as he expected, they seemed surprised at sight of Owen, and hasty
words were passed among them; but they made no motion to interfere with
the forward progress of the two boats, and answered the civil salutation
of Cuthbert with a series of "how-hows" until the current had swept them
past; but it might have been noticed that not once did their shrewd
black eyes leave the figure of the young Canadian squatted in his old
boat, and sweeping his spruce blade back and forth methodically, as he
urged his craft against the stream.

"They know him all right, and are more than surprised to see him with a
party of strangers, heading upstream. Now, I wonder if they were sent
out