ours marrying ribbons. Hold on
a minute, let me think. By gad, I've got a scheme!"

He continued to pace up and down the length of the room, puffing
shortly upon his cigar and emitting emphatic grunts of satisfaction.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed. "If you're bound to marry Ethel off we
will give her the chance to marry a _man_. Go ahead and make up the
party, but leave ribbons out of it. We will let Ethel rest up for a few
days and then we will start--straight for the new camp. There is a
_man_ there."

"But," objected his wife, "you know nothing about him. You don't know
even his name."

"What difference does that make? I know a good man when I see one. I
know enough about him to know that he is good enough for Ethel or any
other woman. And, if he hasn't got a name now, by gad, he is making
one--up there in the big country!"

"But he has no money."

"No money! How much did we have when we were married? Why, little girl,
you just got through saying that the happiest days we ever spent were
up there in the woods when money was so scarce that we knew the date on
every dollar we owned--and every scratch and nick on them--and the
dimes and pennies too."

The little woman smiled. "That is true, Hubert, but somehow----"

"Somehow nothing! If we did it, these two can do it. They've got a
better chance than we had. I'm not going to live forever. I need a
partner. I'm getting old enough to begin to take things easier--to step
aside and let a younger man shoulder the burden."

He threw his arm lovingly about his wife's shoulders, and drew her
close. "We never had a son, sweetheart," he said gravely, "but if we
had I'd want him to be just like that boy. He is making good."

Margaret Appleton looked up into her husband's eyes.

"You haven't made many mistakes, dear," she whispered. "I hope he will
make good--for your sake and--maybe for Ethel's."

CHAPTER XXXVI

TOLD ON THE TRAIL

It was a merry party that clambered into the big tote-wagon in the
little town of Creighton one morning in early November. Upon request of
Appleton and Sheridan, two of the road's heaviest lumber shippers, a
private car had been coupled to the rear of the Imperial Limited at
Winnipeg.

Later the big train hesitated at Hilarity long enough to permit a
half-breed guide in full hunting regalia to step proudly aboard, to the
envy of the dead little town's assembled inhabitants. And later still
the Limited stopped at Creighton and s