from the
current of the river; Owen had already told them that a code of honor
existed at the post, and whatever they left in the boat would be
perfectly safe, for should so much as a trap be stolen, the vigilant
factor would visit the thief with punishment of a drastic nature--his
Scotch blood would not stand for such a breach of hospitality.

They knew that it was their duty to seek an audience with the commander
of the post immediately, explain their mission to these wilds, and, if
it could be done in a diplomatic manner, ingratiate themselves in his
favor by making him some sort of a present--Owen had hinted that the
factor's one weakness was a love for tea, which he used at every meal
with quite as much pleasure as the veriest old maid gossip at a sewing
circle; and as luck would have it this happened to coincide with a
leaning of his own, for he had made sure to fetch considerable of the
very finest that money could purchase in New York--Ceylon, Young Hyson
and Orange Pekoe.

Hence, when he told Eli that it was up to them to make a bee-line for
the headquarters of the factor, and announce their arrival, his first
act was to gather up a package he had prepared, consisting of a pound
each of the several kinds of tea carried by the expedition.

Thus armed and equipped, he sallied forth, under the belief that he was
able to propitiate the powers that be, without a single carnal weapon,
and loaded only with a gentle persuader.

Owen had pointed out the position of the lodge where the factor had his
office as well as his habitation; and indeed, even had they not a friend
at court, it would have been easy to determine the location of this,
since it turned out to be the largest building within the stockade, and
in front of which arose the tall pole that had evidently held the Union
Jack up to sunset.

No one followed them, but various were the curious glances cast in that
direction by the many personages who had a connection with the busy
post.

At the door stood a man, who appeared to be a guard, for he carried a
rifle, and stirred at their approach, as though it might be his business
to make inquiries of those who asked for an audience with the "little
czar" within.

"Is the factor, Mr. Gregory, in?" asked Cuthbert, pleasantly.

"He is--walk right inside," came the reply, and they obeyed.

The office of the trading post was a sight to Cuthbert, who had often
read of such a place, but never as yet, set eyes on