er."

"What?" cried Appleton in surprise. "Who is this Jeanne? And why should
he return to her?"

"She is my sister," Jacques replied simply. "Her skin is white like the
skin of my father. She is beautiful, and she loves him. She helped
Wa-ha-ta-na-ta to draw him from the river, and through all the long
days and nights of his sickness she took care of him. When he went out
of the woods she accompanied him for three days and three nights upon
the trail to the land of the white man, and he promised her that he
would come again into the woods and protect her from harm."

At a hurried glance from his wife Appleton changed the subject
abruptly. "I wish to thunder it would snow!" he exclaimed. "Hunting
deer without snow is like fishing without bait. You might accidentally
hook one, but it's a long chance."

Blood River Jack sniffed the air and shrugged, glancing upward.

"Plenty of snow in a few days," he said. "Maybe too much."

CHAPTER XXXVII

IN THE OFFICE

The setting sun shone weak and coppery above the pines as the big
four-horse tote-team dashed with a flourish into the wide clearing of
the new camp on upper Blood River. The men had not yet "knocked off,"
and from the impenetrable depths of the forest came the ring of axes
and the roar of crashing trees.

In the little blacksmith-shop a grimy-faced, leather-aproned man bent
over a piece of glowing iron which he held in long tongs, and the red
sparks radiated in showers as the hammer thumped dully on the soft
metal--thumps sharply punctuated by the clean ring of steel as the
polished face of the tool bounced merrily upon the chilled surface of
the anvil.

The feel of snow was in the air and over by the cook-shack men were
hauling fire-wood on a pole-drag. The team brought up sharply before
the door of the office which was located at one end of a long, low
building of logs, the two other rooms of which contained stoves,
chairs, and a few rough deal-tables.

Appleton leaped from the wagon and swung the ladies lightly to the
ground, while the teamster and Blood River Jack, assisted by Charlie,
proceeded to unload the outfit. The lumberman pushed open the door of
the office and glanced within. It was empty. He called one of the men
from the cook-shack and bade him build a fire in the little air-tight.

"Well, H. D., your man ain't an office foreman, anyhow," grinned
Sheridan, with a nod of approval toward the cold stove.

Sheridan was a bluff man wi