st son of Simon, the French half-breed farmer up the
river. Tole came of good, self-respecting native stock, and was in his
own person a comely, sensible youngster a few years younger than the
trooper. Tole was the nearest thing to a young friend that Stonor
possessed in the post. They were both young enough to have some
illusions left. They talked of things they would have blushed to expose
to the cynicism of the older men.

Stonor sat in his barrel chair that he had made himself, and Tole sat on
the floor nursing his knees. Both were smoking Dominion mixture.

Said Tole: "Stonor, what you make of this Swan River mystery?"

"Oh, anything can be a mystery until you learn the answer. I don't see
why a man shouldn't settle out on Swan River if he has a mind to."

"Why do all the white men talk against him?"

"Don't ask me. I doubt if they could tell you themselves. When men talk
in a crowd they get started on a certain line and go on from bad to
worse without thinking what they mean by it."

"Our people just the same that way, I guess," said Tole.

"I'm no better," said Stonor. "I don't know how it is, but fellows in a
crowd seem to be obliged to talk more foolishly than they think in
private."

"You don't talk against him, Stonor."

The policeman laughed. "No, I stick up for him. It gets the others
going. As a matter of fact, I'd like to know this Imbrie. For one thing,
he's young like ourselves, Tole. And he must be a decent sort, to cure
the Indians, and all that. They're a filthy lot, what we've seen of
them."

"Gaviller says he's going to send an outfit next spring to rout him out
of his hole. Gaviller says he's a cash trader."

Stonor chuckled. "Gaviller hates a cash trader worse than a devil with
horns. It's nonsense anyway. What would the Kakisas do with cash? This
talk of sending in an expedition will all blow over before spring."

"Stonor, what for do you think he lives like that by himself?"

"I don't know. Some yarn behind it, I suppose. Very likely a woman at
the bottom of it. He's young. Young men do foolish things. Perhaps he'd
be thankful for a friend now."

"White men got funny ideas about women, I think."

"I suppose it seems so. But where did you get that idea?"

"Not from the talk at the store. I have read books. Love-stories.
Pringle the missionary lend me a book call _Family Herald_ with many
love-stories in it. From that I see that white men always go crazy about
women."

Stonor